- Synopsis: Gojo Misses You :D

thanks for tag cinny <33

current fave songs

— yes or no - jungkook

— attention - newjeans

— akari - soushi sakiyama

— smitten - leanna firestone

— would that i - hozier

no pressure tags <3 : @saelestia @cheriiyaya @ladyth @yunymphs @tinkerbelle05 @littlekidsteve

thank you for the tag @sweetl4mb <3

current fav songs.

1. if you think im pretty - artemas 2. work - iggy azalea 3. kryptonite - 3 doors down 4. two of hearts - stacey q 5. high by the beach - lana del rey

no pressure tags: @dizzyntrr @lacysturniolo @gwenlore @mattscokewhore @solutopia @sturnioloshacker @stvrlighttgabss @ihrtchris @sadfury @coqvttes @renqiisnce @ghostywispe @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @intriq @bearrbug @niyizh @mattsnymphette @rootbeerworshiper @lovings4turn

i will become insufferable once arcane season 2 gets released

to love you the best I can || miles morales

warning/s: arguing, descriptions of injury, use of unprofessional medical tools.

a/n: there is one sentence in spanish here, I used a lot of posts people made on here about adding spanish to write it. it's literally just four words but it could still be wrong so please let me know so I can change it if ever. ( ˘ ³˘)♥

"You know, if you think about it I'm kind of helping you further your education," Miles joked through a grimace as you cleaned the gash on his chest with nothing more but a freshly laundered shirt and  warm soapy water.

He was laying on his bed with the top of his suit removed, and you were kneeling on the floor at his side. The look you gave him was enough to make him wince more.

"You're not funny Morales," you hissed, your tone juxtaposing the way you wiped the blood off him. The wounds weren't even that deep, there were just so many of them.

And that's what made you almost shake as you worked.

"I'm sorry," is all he can say as he looks at you, dead focused on his chest, your lip between your teeth, and tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

Your worry only became more clear to him as your head snapped up at him.

"Well you should be sorry," you almost growled, dipping the shirt in the now pink water.

"I thought you called me to hangout," you said, shaking the shirt before ringing it out.

'"Not play doctor," you glared at him, resuming your cleaning for emphasis.

"You could have at least told me that you were hurt so I could've brought the right things to help you!" You said, a little too loud this time, gesturing  to the other shirt on his bedside table. 

Beside it was a pair of scissors that you were gonna use to cut it up into makeshift bandages.

"Hey tone it down a bit," he whispered, trying to get up only to be stopped by a sudden jolt of pain before he continued.

"My parents are still asleep."

"Maybe I want them to hear," you tell him, placing your hand on his chest to push him back on the bed gently. 

"At least your mom would actually know what she's doing," you sighed, moving on to the smaller gashes on his stomach that he didn't even know was there.

"Seriously Miles, just because I help at the clinic does not mean I'm medically trained."

"I'm sorry," he said again, hands moving to grasp at the bedsheets. His chest was on fire, for more reasons than one.

"I didn't know who else to call."

"Well if you were gonna call you should've at least told me the real reason why you did," you said through clenched teeth.

"Don't give me that I miss you bullshit."

"I didn't want you to come here worried," he explained, his hand moving to stop your wiping, and inevitably your shaking. That's when you finally looked back up at him.

"Miles," you breathed.

"It's my job to worry about you."

This is when the dam broke. Choked sobs began to escape your lips, and the shaking of your hands moved up to your shoulders.

Miles' eyes began to glaze over at the sight.

"No matter what," you said in between breaths.

"I will always worry, because I love you," your lips quivered as you placed the shirt in the bowl so you could hold Miles's hands in yours completely.

This made his chest tighten.

"So please, if you're hurt like this. Or if anything else happens and you need me, just tell me right away, tell me the truth right away," you practically begged, moving up on your knees so your eyes locked with his honey brown hues.

 "So I can help the best I can," you explained, bringing his hands to your lips, kissing them despite your constant shakes.

His throat began to burn at your actions.

"So I can love you the best I can," you ended, a new round of tears trailing down your cheeks.

"Okay, Miles?"

The room stood silent for a second, and you searched him for confirmation. But all he gave you was a look you've never seen before, and that scared you.

"Miles?" You repeated, the shake in your voice becoming worse.

And he nods, closing his eyes as tears begin to trickle down his cheeks and under his chin. 

Your gaze instantly softened.

"Oh, ligaya," your voice rasped as you gently moved to straddle his waist, avoiding his wounds as you did despite your shaking.

You had dropped his hands and brought yours to his cheeks, wiping away his tears gently with the pads of your thumbs. You tried so desperately to calm yourself down so you could comfort him. 

And he knew that. It only made his cries worse as he tried to look away from you. But you held him firmly, the best you could, placing your forehead on his.

"I'm sorry" you cooed, bringing your fingers to his ears, pinching them gently and rubbing smooth circles behind them. 

"I'm not mad," you whispered.

"I was just scared."

"No, I know," he finally responded, a slight crack to his voice. He moved up to your level, despite your efforts to stop the strain. 

He needed to do this.

"It's okay, I was too," he explained, opening his eyes and now wiping your tears that still spilled down your cheeks despite yourself.

He hated himself for causing them.

"Thank you so much for this," he tells you, even though he knew it wasn't enough. It would never be, but he'd try to make it for you.

"Thank you for being here for me," he took a deep breath, moving back to place a kiss on your nose before placing his forehead back on yours.

"I promise to be more honest with you about the spider stuff," he swore, moving away so he could look you in the eyes.

"I love you, so much," he said, making his voice crack again. 

You gave him a smile that told him it was okay. You were okay. 

You both would be okay.

"Te necesito, mi tesoro," he whispered, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, and he smiled as you placed a gentle kiss on it.

"I don't know what that means," you chuckled, voice still raspy, but now better as you stopped shaking.

"But thank you."

He echoed your chuckle, now placing his cheek on your shoulder, turning to kiss below your ear before he translated his words.

"I need you, my treasure," he whispered, beginning to trail his fingers up and down your spine.

And you hugged him back while still keeping a safe distance between you.

You both stayed there in silence for a while, basking in each other's presence. You breathed in each other's scent and memorised the way your bodies felt curved into one another.

You would have stayed there forever if you didn't still have a job to do.

"Let me finish cleaning you up," you said, pulling away from him.

"I just need to do one final wipe and I'll wrap them up. And I guess I have to stay the night to monitor you," you began to ramble as you transversed through all the medical knowledge you knew.

"You might run a fever and I wanna be here if you do. But hopefully you don't because things can only go downhill from there," your voice has suddenly become panicky, and Miles was quick to calm you down this time. 

"Staying the night," he said with a teasing tone, hand moving down to your waist, squeezing the curve softly.

"Are you flirting with me doctor?" He quirked a playful brow.

"I heard it's wrong to mess around with patients."

"Shut up," you smiled, making his efforts not for naught.

"Don't tell me you don't like my bedside manner," you played along.

"Well actually you could be doing better if I'm being honest."

"Oh please," you rolled your, moving to get off of him, and his hands chased you to pull you back, but you gave him a scalding look as you picked the shirt from the bowl.

"Let me finish this up okay, so you can finally get some rest," you bargained as he began to pout.

"I'll lay next to you of course," you added, making him smile once more.

"Alright babe," he sighed, watching you ring the shirt out for the final time.

"I'm all yours."

And he was, and always will be. 

As he watched you wipe him down with the utmost care, sweat dripping on your brow, and tear streaks on your cheeks, he silently promised you that he'd be better. That he'd treat you the way you deserve. That he'd love you the best he can.

let me know what you think hehe

my writing masterlist ✧ requests are currently: open

jujutsu kaisen

itadori yuuji: ❀ lost little dreamer | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | final ❀ cutting ties ❀ new romantics [actor au]

sukuna ryomen: ✄ dead to me [actor au]

gojo satoru: ✧ attention [actor au]

nanami kento: ☏ dad!nanami [headcanons]

blue beetle 2023

jaime reyes: ✭ new girl on the block | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | final

avatar: the way of water

neteyam sully: ✿ by eywa's will ✿ arranged | part 2

↳ pairing : miles morales x reader

↳ synopsis : shenanigans with your favorite classmate :) (maybe even a secret crush)

↳ authors note : i'm rlly trying to expand through fandoms, plzzz don't leave i promise i still write hsrr ;o; !!!!! i'm gonna be on a LONG atsv brainrot plz <\3 wuts a proof-read idk what that iz (/j)

MILES MORALES was the new student two years ago, some people thought he was an oddball since the first day encounter with his dad.. but you didn't really mind it honestly. You had much more important matters to attend to, like not listening to gossip.

After learning he was in some of your classes, you decided to try and get to know the guy. He seemed pretty cool, and you never passed an opportunity to know someone new.

"Morales, right?" Miles hears from behind him, it's currently lunch and so he turns his head to see you standing there with a tray in hand. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Since that day, you two hit it off like crazy, with sharing interests and hobbies it wasn't hard to talk every single day and run out of things to talk about.

"So, my Uncle Aaron took me to this crazy place like 2 years ago maybe? But yeah, it's where I did one of my first graffiti art." He explained, leading you through the dark traintracks while holding your wrist so you don't lose him in the darkness. "Sounds cool! Is it the same one that you used in your essay?"

You listen to the echo of his laughter. "Yeah, it is.. He was a great man, made me who I am today."

The way he talks fondly about his Uncle makes your heart sting a little. Though you were never able to meet him yourself, the way Miles talked about him to you made it clear he was a man who loved his nephew like he was his own son, and it was like you could emphasize with his pain of losing him.

However your thoughts are interrupted at the loud sound of a light switch turning on, illuminating the room and different graffiti art draw on the walls. Miles laughs at your breathless expression, admiring the way your eyes seemed to glow at the art all around you.

"Heeey, look at that!" You chuckled, pointing at the 'Expectations' graffiti you brought up earlier. "You were so much shorter back then.." And Miles rolled his eyes at that comment, knowing that you were referring to the silhouette on the wall. "Very funny."

Then you realize theres a section of the wall thats covered with cloth, and he notices how you take notice of it. Miles immediately clears his throat, puts a hand behind his neck and looks at the ground. "Oh, uh.. that's a work in progress. I wouldn't want you to see i-"

Suddenly his spidey-senses go off, the second he looks up he already sees you right infront of the wall and about to touch the cover. "(name)!"

Pulling it off, it reveals a wall full of.. you? You were surprised that the details were down almost perfectly, your nose shape, your eyes and your smile. It was all so perfectly done that in a way it could either be flattering or a tiny bit creepy.

Of course, Miles being your best friend, you may or may not sketch or write about him every now and then (or rather all the time) depending on which one you felt like doing, but he didn't have to know that.

"I'm.. honored?" You laugh, looking back at your poor friend whos pulled his hoodie over his head and his hands covering his face. "Oh, come on! It's not that embarassing- And it looks good I promise!" You tried to reassure him, but the boy has no intentions on budging.

"I forgot I had that." Miles mumbled to himself, ignoring how you pull on his arm to try and get him to show himself.

At some point you've given up, and let the guy wallow in his own embarassment for a while. Your attention shifts back onto the art wall, seeing the several doodles and actual art pieces that you can only assume Miles was working on for the past 2 years you two were friends.

The much smaller doodles were your favorites, ones where he made you a tiny little creature were the cutest ones, and at some point you noticed how so many of them involved.. him. He drew tiny moments of you and him holding hands, going on walks, sharing earphones and little cliche date stuff.

You were about to say something, but are stopped at the realization Miles was right next to you while his eyes never seemed to break contact from yours. "Miles?" You say in almost a whisper, seeing how focused his gaze was on you.

"I mean, we're both smart enough to realize it.. right?"

The urge to play dumb was strong, it really was, but Miles could see through you like he was staring at glass. That's how well he knew you, and how transparent you were with him.

"And maybe I'm stupid enough to make up delusions in my head but.. do you.. feel the same?"

The question leaves you stunned, stammering to find an answer, but the serious facade Miles kept up melts at your nervous reaction. He begins to laugh, digging through his pockets and pulls out a paper you recognize all too well, it had to be either a drawing or a poem you had written for Miles and considering one of your recent ones going missing.. if what he had in his hands was that one, it gave him more than an answer.

That realization makes you gasp, and Miles' laughter only grows stronger as you've now realized what's happening in its full extent. Miles liked you, and he knew you liked him too.

"You cheeky-" You try to grab the paper from his hands, but the tall piece of shit tip-toe's just to make sure you couldn't grab it. "Whaat? What am I, hm?" He'll playfully taunt at you, still unable to control his smile as he knows that deep down you enjoyed this banter just as much as he did.

You two continue to playfully argue for a while, laughter echoing throughout the abandoned area as hours passed on and on. The talk about either ones feelings never came to light, but you two were content with the moment, and in another time you'd talk about the confusing thing that is the feelings you both mutually share.

You had all the time in the world, right? Miles Morales wasn't going anywhere.

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 - 𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢 𝐲𝐮𝐮𝐣𝐢 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

"after they leave, it's just the voices and i."

masterlist | previous , next !

–pairings: itadori yuuji x oc

– warning: mentions of death, fluff, canon divergent, pre-shibuya arc

– author’s note: more lore!! i swear ill be getting into the action soon but uh,,, this series might end up longer than expected

disclaimer: i’m not of japanese descent and am unfamiliar with japanese honorifics, etc. feel free to correct me!

“Well, we should be off.”

My gaze snapped up to meet honey-brown eyes once more, those two little marks underneath Itadori’s eyes, as if they were another set of eyes, stared back at me. His pout was evident, expressions freely displayed in contrast to Fushiguro’s poker face. Yet even with his judgemental gaze, I plastered on a smile.

“Ah, is it that late already?” Nobara sighed, and I lightly shoved her shoulder.

“It’s late enough,” Fushiguro, grabbed Itadori’s sleeve. “We should leave you to unpack.”

“I almost forgot about that, but thanks for the reminder.”

I walked the two to the door, Nobara getting a headstart on cleaning up the mess – considering that she did make the most of it – while Itadori continued to pout at the lack of time spent together.

“Dang, I was hoping to get to know you better,” He huffed, before letting out a radiant smile once more. “I’m sure we’ll meet tomorrow though! When will you be free?”

I glance behind the door, seeing a big thumbs up from Nobara, and I turn back to Itadori, sucking in wince.

“I mean, I’m still pretty busy unpacking, so uh… no, I’m not free. Sorry.”

“Oh, uh, that’s alright. What about the day after– OW!”

A fist was lowered on Itadori’s head, and I couldn’t help but let out a genuine wince, seeing how hard he was hit on the head.

“Leave it at that, Yuuji,” Fushiguro sighed. “She’s busy, so leave her be.”

“Alright, alright, no need to get violent,” He huffed before turning to me, letting out a little hopeful smile. “Well uh, hope to see you around then?”

“Yeah,” The twinkle in his eye set off a little feeling of nausea in me. “Around. Sure.”

“Great! See you around!” 

“You said that twice, idiot,” Fushiguro sighed, pulling Itadori away by the back of the collar of his shirt.

“Thanks for lunch, by the way!” I called out before turning to close my dorm door, but not without Itadori gleefully yelling back ‘You’re welcome!’

“Busy, huh?” Nobara chimed. “I was hoping you weren’t too busy for me.”

“You’re always welcome, Nobara,” I sigh, walking over to help her clean up.

“So you don’t like them?”

“It’s not that I don’t like Itadori and Fushiguro. I just didn’t come here to make friends. I came here to become stronger, to fight for myself and others.”

“Sheesh, straight to the point,” She shrugs. “Can’t blame you for that. But hey, here’s to hoping we’ll be in the same class. I need another gal in my class, not sure how much longer I can tolerate those guys.”

“Hah! You handle them perfectly fine, Nobara, don’t take yourself for granted,” I pat her on the back as I take the two small plastic bags of trash, chucking them into my bin.

“Hey, you handled them well too, although it was in a silent, deadly-stare kinda way,” She muttered the last bit, before sighing and walking towards my dorm door.

“Heading out?”

“Yeah, unless you want me to stay on and help,” She then pointed at my eyes. “Though I can tell your social battery is practically dead.”

I let a smile slip onto my features, and that’s enough for her to know. She lowers her hand, reaching for the door as I hear it click open.

“You know me too well, Nobara. I’ll see you around?”

“Just text or call me, dork,” She calls out, the door closing behind her.

A soft laugh escapes me, and I’m left alone in the silence again. I look over to my suitcase, before getting up to lock my door. Once that was done, I seat myself back by my barely unpacked suitcase. 

I didn’t pack many clothes. It wasn’t like I needed anything more than my uniform and maybe a few casual outing clothes. I was here to learn, maybe hang with Nobara, but nothing more, nothing less.

As soon as my clothes were kept away in the cupboard, the photo in my bag caught my eye. It was enough to capture my full attention, and I closed my wardrobe shut, walking over to my case to take the paper image instead.

“Mama.”

Her eyes, shining like stars in the dark vast of space, were filled with such warmth, her arms wrapped around a much smaller version of me and my baby brother. My father stood behind her, a wide smile stretched across his cheeks.

We looked happy.

Never did I ever think I would see my father’s smile again. But it would always be there in my memories, in my pictures, reminding me of my wrongs – my mistakes; my actions.

My thumb rubs across the surface of the once-fond memory, swiping off the tears that landed on it. Couldn’t afford to lose more of what once was. I sit on my bed, feeling the mattress sink under me. The picture sits on my bedside table, but a feeling of longing and irritation nags me.

I suck my teeth in annoyance, and all that’s left is to face whatever’s eating at me.

I find myself standing in the middle of the room, taking one last look at us, smiling without care. I pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my notes before landing on a specific one. I’ve never cast this technique for a single reason, but I needed advice now more than ever.

Taking one last glance at the little text on my screen, I turned my phone off, returning all my focus to my newest technique.

“Beyond the grave and from the dead.”

It started with flickering lights. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t afford distractions, I couldn’t afford to mess up again.

“I beseech the knowledge within your head.”

The windows rattled and the rapid flickering of the lightbulbs worsened.

“I seek your guidance, oh passing spirit. Until my time has reached its limit.”

Silence. It surrounded me, everything deathly still. My eyes opened, and I was in darkness. A dim light glowed from the lights above, though I doubted that the lights were this purple before.

My back straightened, and I let out a sigh of relief, a weight lifting off my chest. I slipped a card out of my pocket, my thumb rubbing against the sigil of the Eight of Wands. I held it straight before me, upright, as I forced the next words out of my mouth.

“I now reveal Yamomoto Chizuru, wife of Shu Daichi, and former user of the Spiritual Technique.”

And there she stood, eyes warm as ever, despite the coldness they held in her dying moments. A smile rested on her lips, arms outstretched in welcome.

“Tsubame,” Her voice filled my ears, and my vision watered with newly unshed tears. “How good it is to finally speak to you.”

“Okaa-san.”

gif by @heycaz

taglist: @mooncleaver @underwateredwrld @mcmisbehaving @neteyamrealgf @khany2026 @tinkerbelle05 @iheartamajiki < comment/dm me if you’d like to be on the taglist! >

more blue beetle thoughts

tw: spoilers for blue beetle (2023), not rlly proofread, my brain is that of a goldfish

Another group of scenes I really noticed in the movie was how Victoria Kord treated “Dr. Sanchez” throughout the movie, until his death. In multiple scenes with “Dr. Sanchez”, Victoria calls him Sanchez, and he always corrects her, with his correction falling onto deaf ears. It seems from this, that Victoria didn’t care for “Dr. Sanchez”, from ignoring what he said, to just wanting him to do what she wants. 

It isn’t until the scene on the island, where “Dr. Sanchez” looks at Victoria Kord, and defies her, when she says to go after Jaime, who escaped. He says (from what I remember)  “Mira pendeja, my name is (I forgot most of his name 😭) De La Cruz! 

I found this interesting, for two reasons:

We see the Dr. actually stand up and correct Victoria, for his name. That alone was powerful to me, because as someone who has a Latin name, non-Latinos (especially yt people) butcher it, just because they can't say it. It made me take more courage in not letting this happen to me in mainly white, or non-latin spaces.

Also, we see the Dr. defy Victoria in his actions. He would always follow Victoria, whether it be in the scene where they unearthed the Scarab, and following her orders, in the island scene, where they transferred Jaime’s power into Carapax. In his final moments before he died, he did what he believed was right. He let Jaime go, and locks himself in with Carapax and Victoria.

tldr: the Dr. is my favorite character, and he didn't deserve to die.

Heavys latest post was really bothering me so i fixed it. Left is original and right is mine

simon petrikov

sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.

wc. 2.2k-ish

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that

“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”

and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.

you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.

your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.

it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.

though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.

“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.

she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.

you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.

“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.

the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.

“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”

it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.

the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.

the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.

you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”

audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.

“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.

your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.

you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.

“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”

you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.

you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.

by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.

“enough.”

the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.

the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.

“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.

sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.

“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”

he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.

you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.

you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.

sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.

he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”

sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.

the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.

“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.

he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.

it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.

sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.

“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”

you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”

sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.

your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.

“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”

you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”

it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.

if only you could stand up for yourself.

“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.

he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”

you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.

almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.

“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.

“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.

sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.

he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.

sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”

he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.

his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.

he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;

“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”