#king x sorcerer

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

"You tempt fate Sorcerer."

"Oh do I? How so my King?"

"Touching yourself without my permission."

"Mm, maybe you should punish me." – Court Sorcerer Merlin and King Arthur

[Merlin loves testing Arthur's self-restraint, wondering and anticipating how long before Arthur snaps and disciplines him. He can't wait to be spanked.]

[escespace]

Merlin: I'm not ignoring you, I'm exercising my right

Arthur: I am the king! I say what your rights are

Merlin: Yes, and you have declared that I am free

Arthur: Free to be yourself!

Merlin: Exactly and myself's attention is freely directed to another part that is not you at this moment.

[91939art]

🌟patreon | commission us🌟🌟

We'll give ourselves — and you — what "Wish" has failed to grant us! Marriage between Strictness and Magnificence.

We're sooo doing them pillow talking, folks...

[chronicowboy]

merlin in 2009: haha silly, fun family-friendly retelling of arthurian leg-

merlin in 2012: you will choose the one you love over fate and destiny and life itself, you will condemn him by trying to save him, and though you have given your life for his time and time again without seeking any credit, he owes you more life debts than he can count and these debts will be repaid with a thousand lifetimes of grief and loneliness as you wait for the one life you get to share with him again

[skywalkerrtno]

NOT THE KFC BUCKET

[georgies-ftts]

I love the CourtSorcerer!Merlin depictions where he’s wearing deep blue regal robes that fit him perfectly with dark trousers and leather boots that aren’t falling apart and his hair is longer and bushy and crowns his head perfectly

and Arthur believes he’s is a god sent to him by some omnipotent power and looks at him like he’s his entire world but still treats him as if he is the lanky manservant that he met all those years ago but the moment they are alone together he worships the ground that Merlin walks on and let’s his emotions fall from his face like a rain because he knows that Merlin, no matter what, can always tell what’s going through his mind

And Arthur gives Merlin a crown of silver that matches his robes perfectly, and the crown is a laurel that circles his hair and doesn’t meet in the front so his hair protrudes out and Arthur wants to play with the strands but he holds himself back and only stares because that’s all he can do without reaching his hand out to do something that the court would definitely shun him for later on

and Arthur watches as Merlin’s eyes glow molten gold and he declares it as his favourite colour and Arthur allows himself to see Merlin as he truly his, the other half of the same coin, half of his soul, his sorcerer. The man that waltz into camelot all those years ago and challenged him with gusto, the one that stood by his side through every challenge, every battle, that saved his life countless times without ever seeking any form of appraisal and Arthur stands in awe as Merlin’s power throttles onwards and Arthur let’s it happen with a smile ghosting his face because his Merlin, despite everything he was taught to believe, would never ever hurt him and now i’m just writing my own fanfiction from everything that i love but i devour it every. single. time.

[emotionalmessss]

Me again hehe ok so what if Sukuna had a frail s/o that bruises really easily like he could flick her arm and an hour later boom purple spot

A/N: ahhh. I know sukuna is like the opposite of nice/gentle, but I'm going to be taking a different approach with this. I tried to answer the best I could, I swear my brain likes to run with things and spew out random shit.

Warnings: slight violence, teasing, unhealthy relationships, soft-ish sukuna?

it was hard for sukuna to come to terms that he actually liked you. he noticed he was paying a little too much attention to you. nothing particularly peaked his interest much like you did. the thought of having feelings for something other than himself bothered him immensely. fruitlessly, he tried to suppress these emotions.

in his mind, he thought that if he ignored them, they'd eventually go away. so he resorted to his usual tactics; teasing, taunting, and humiliating you.

this succeeded in very little. he found himself even more enamoured by you. he loved watching you and never seemed to leave your side.

you'd grown accustom to his little games and stopped feeding into it. you knew he enjoyed your reactions and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

this annoyed him. although, he thoroughly enjoyed watching you unconsciously fight with your inner self. your face twisting up in a grimace, blush creeping in on your cheeks, and fists clenching at your sides.

his advancements were becoming intense. you couldn’t have more than a few hours to yourself without him intruding. it was strange. you couldn’t place why he was so interested in you and you tried to ignore it. it wasn’t an easy task. besides his taunting words and sadistic humour, he started being physical. he would stand closer to you than normal, hovering over you in a manner that screamed dominance.

sukuna found himself watching you more and more - his interest peaking to a borderline obsession. if he couldn’t ignore these feelings, he’d just have to embrace them. no one was allowed to harm you, except him, of course. you were his. his to torment. his to enjoy.

he noticed you were fragile, like a fucking child. If he grabbed with even just an ounce of his normal strength, your skin reddened. normally he'd feed off this new finding, but something else dwelled in his stomach. he wanted you all to himself. the desire to hurt you shifted into the need to have you.

a thick hand caught your wrist, instinctively causing your body to react and jerk backwards. your mask slipped from your face as you felt his grip tighten. the desire to flee was overwhelming, so much so that you'd combust if you stood still.

sukuna merely glanced down his nose at you, tightening his hold as you moved to step back. oh, no. you're not going anywhere. the need to have you close amplified and he tugged you closer, earning a hiss of response.

his eyes flicked to your wrist, noticing your pale skin darkening to a purple bruise. he couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face. his brows twitching as his eyes narrowed.

"such a fragile thing, aren't you?" his expression hardened again, but the softness of his voice couldn't be hidden.

he knew humans were fragile - there was no doubt in his mind about that. but he didn't expect this. he usually felt pleasure in causing pain towards others, but you were different. seeing all the cuts and bruises that littered your arms and legs made him unsettled.

he did his best to hide it, but you were smart. the way his expression shifted into slight concern before reverting to boredom, never went unnoticed.

his approach shifted, and you noticed it. sukuna refrained from using excessive force on you and instead, opted to softer gestures.

"hurt yourself again, brat?" you looked up at him, crossed legged at the bottom of his shrine.

"no." you stubbornly answered, flicking at your nails.

"hm." he shifted on his makeshift throne, glaring down at you with a bored expression.

he was crouching in front of you now, taking you by surprise and making you flinch back. his hand enveloped yours as he studied the fading bruise on your wrist.

"doesn't look that way to me." he muttered, focusing his attention on your arm.

sukuna’s usual lack of interest in anything changed. in your first meeting, he barely gave you a second glance. you weren’t important to him. he could care less about you. but now, his eyes lingered over you. he’d quickly check over your body when he thought you wouldn’t notice. at first, you couldn’t place why he was doing this. was it to make you uncomfortable? no. he was checking for any indications that you might be hurt.

[kyitsya]

guys, what if they got a bit f r e a k y ? 🫣

[dee-writes-anime]

Chapter 6: The Queen Rises

FEATURING Ryomen Sukuna x Witch!Reader

SUMMARY As Sukuna’s court gathers under the watchful skies of his domain, you find yourself thrust into a stage where loyalty is tested, strength is questioned, and whispers of rebellion threaten to crack the fragile balance of power. Facing scorn from lords and a direct challenge from a menacing curse user, you must prove your place at Sukuna’s side is not a weakness but a declaration of your unyielding will. 

CONTENT WARNINGS Includes depictions of magical combat with explosive energy clashes and descriptions of physical harm such as scars and burns, verbal and physical threats are made against the reader by a rival curse user, descriptions of severe scarring, missing body parts, and unsettling imagery of injuries, intense, charged interactions between Sukuna and the reader with suggestive language, physical proximity, and implied power dynamics, references to impending war, including the threat of large-scale conflict and the manipulation of alliances for power. 

PLAYLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

The morning light filtered through the shoji screens of my chambers, soft and muted, casting long, lattice-like patterns across the polished wood floors. The room was quieter than it had been the night before, but the stillness wasn’t comforting—it was heavy, expectant, as though the very air braced itself for what was to come. 

I pushed back the silk coverlet, the fabric slipping soundlessly to the lacquered floor as I sat up. My body ached faintly, the echoes of the trials I’d endured still pulsing through my limbs like the lingering memory of fire. There were bruises along my arms and shoulders, faint impressions left by the jagged tendrils of cursed energy I’d faced in the labyrinth, and a faint, dull burn in my chest where my own power had coiled too tightly. 

I let out a slow breath, the exhale curling faintly in the cool morning air, and shifted my gaze to the choker resting on its lacquered stand across the room. Its crimson gemstone pulsed faintly, a heartbeat that was not mine but echoed through the space nonetheless. Today, its light was sharper, brighter, casting restless patterns on the walls like the flicker of distant flames. 

It was a constant presence now, no longer just a symbol but a tether, an unspoken reminder of the position I had earned and the power I had yet to wield fully. I hadn’t touched it since removing it the night before, yet its energy threaded through the room like a whisper I couldn’t ignore. 

The faint murmur of voices from beyond the door drew my attention. They were hushed, urgent, carrying the clipped tones of commands and responses exchanged in rapid succession. The estate had been alive with tension since the feast, its usual stillness replaced by a bristling energy that rippled through the halls like the first tremors of an approaching storm. 

Below my window, the courtyard was a flurry of movement. Messengers in muted crimson robes darted between the gates and the grand hall, their figures blurred by the faint haze of morning mist. Guards stood at the perimeter, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons, their gazes sharp and unyielding. 

Something had shifted, though I couldn’t yet name what. 

A faint pressure brushed the edge of my awareness, sharp and deliberate. The weight of it coiled around me like smoke, heavy and inescapable, a presence I recognized instantly. 

The door opened without ceremony, the polished wood groaning faintly on its hinges as Sukuna entered. 

His robes whispered against the floor, the crimson and gold catching the morning light as his cursed energy swept into the room ahead of him. It was quieter than it had been the night before, more controlled, yet no less overwhelming. It clung to the air like the embers of a dying fire, deceptively calm but ready to ignite at a moment’s notice. 

I rose to my feet, my movements slow and deliberate, as his gaze swept over the room. His four eyes gleamed with sharp intensity, two half-lidded with amusement while the others tracked my movements with a deliberate precision that made the space between us feel smaller. 

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and cutting as he surveyed the room. 

“Comfort isn’t something I’ve had much of lately,” I replied, keeping my tone even as I met his gaze. 

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, as he stepped further into the room. “Good. You’ll find it’s overrated.” 

I folded my arms, the weight of his presence pressed against me, heavy but not suffocating. It was different now, less like the prowling of a predator testing its prey and more like the steady hum of power acknowledging an equal—or at least someone worthy of notice, “I assume this isn’t a social call.” 

“No,” he replied, stepping closer, his cursed energy brushing faintly against my senses. “They’re weaker.” 

“And more dangerous because of it,” I said, my tone firmer. 

His grin widened, the faint glint of his teeth catching the light. “Dangerous, yes. But not to you.” 

The certainty in his voice was sharp, cutting through the faint tension that lingered in the air. I held his gaze, searching for the mockery I was used to, but found none. Instead, there was something steadier, something unspoken that tightened the space between us. 

“Stand beside me,” he said suddenly, his voice dropping lower, softer, but no less commanding. 

The words sent a ripple of heat through my chest, the memory of his proposition the night before curling at the edges of my thoughts. He didn’t push the question now, but it lingered between us nonetheless—a presence that neither of us acknowledged but couldn’t ignore. 

“And if I don’t?” I asked, my voice quieter now, but still steady. 

His grin softened into something sharper, more deliberate. “You will,” he said simply, his tone carrying the weight of certainty. 

I clenched my hands at my sides, the pulse of the choker quickening faintly as the tension between us thickened. “The court doesn’t see me as you do,” I said, the edge of defiance creeping into my tone. 

“No,” he said, his gaze narrowing slightly. “But they will.” 

The weight of his cursed energy pressed against me again, heavier now, but it wasn’t meant to intimidate—it was meant to anchor, to steady. “They’ll see what I see,” he continued, his voice low but deliberate. “Someone who doesn’t bow. Someone who survives when others would fall.” 

The air between us crackled faintly, charged with something I couldn’t quite name. There was no question in his tone, no room for doubt. 

“You think it’s that simple?” I asked, my voice softer now, though the tension in my chest refused to ease. 

“Nothing is simple,” he said, his grin widening faintly. “But you don’t need simplicity. You need to show them that you’re not just here to survive—you’re here to rule.” 

The words struck like a blade, sharp and precise, settling into the quiet between us. I exhaled slowly, the pulse of the choker steadying as I held his gaze. 

“And if they challenge that?” I asked. 

His grin sharpened, his eyes gleaming with something darker, more dangerous. “Then you remind them who they’re dealing with.” 

His cursed energy flared briefly, brushing against me like the edge of a blade before settling into the charged silence that lingered between us. 

He stepped back toward the door, his movements slow but deliberate, the weight of his presence retreating but not disappearing entirely. 

“Don’t disappoint me,” he said, his voice quieter now, though it carried the sharp edge of a command. “You’ve earned your place, little witch. Now take it.” 

The faint click of the door closing behind Sukuna echoed in the quiet room, the weight of his presence still lingering in the charged air. I exhaled slowly, running a hand along the edge of the lacquered table where the choker rested, its faint pulse a constant reminder of the role I had been thrust into. 

Before I could gather my thoughts, the door opened again—not with the commanding weight of Sukuna’s entry but with a brisk, efficient movement that made me turn sharply. 

Uraume stepped inside, their pale eyes sharper than usual, darting around the room as though expecting someone—or something—to follow them. Their normally composed expression was faintly unsettled, the edges of their movements carrying a tension I hadn’t seen before. 

“Good morning to you too,” I said, folding my arms as I watched them close the door behind them with deliberate care. 

They didn’t reply immediately. Instead, they crossed the room in a few swift strides, their gaze scanning the walls as if ensuring no unseen ears lingered within the shadows. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice firmer now, the unease radiating from them beginning to seep into me. 

When they finally looked at me, their expression had settled into something closer to their usual calm, though their movements remained brisk, deliberate. “The court gathering,” they said, their tone low but carrying a faint edge of urgency. “It’s not just a formality.” 

“Clearly,” I replied, leaning back slightly. “Sukuna didn’t exactly leave me under the impression it would be a casual affair.” 

Uraume’s gaze narrowed slightly, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing their features before they continued. “You should understand what you’re walking into,” they said, their voice sharper now, though it wasn’t directed at me. “The lords are restless.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “Restless how?” 

“There are factions among them,” Uraume said, their words deliberate, chosen with care. “Some are loyal—those who understand the weight of Lord Sukuna’s power and what it means to stand under his rule. But there are others who... waver.” 

“Waver,” I repeated, the word settling heavily in the air. 

“They question him,” Uraume said, their pale eyes meeting mine directly. “Not openly, of course. But in whispers, in careful movements. They see his favor toward you as a sign of weakness.” 

My chest tightened, though I kept my expression neutral. “So I’m a liability.” 

“To some,” Uraume replied. “To others, you’re a threat. It depends on their ambitions.” 

I moved to the window, staring down at the bustling courtyard below. The lords’ discontent wasn’t entirely surprising, but the weight of their perceptions pressed against me nonetheless. “And the gathering today?” 

“It’s more than an announcement,” Uraume said, stepping closer. “It’s a stage. Some will use it to affirm their loyalty. Others will use it to test yours.” 

I turned to face them, my jaw tightening. “Why warn me now?” 

“Because Lord Sukuna expects you to succeed,” Uraume said simply, their voice steady. “But more importantly, because if you fail, you won’t just lose his favor—you’ll lose everything.” 

Their words sank in like a blade, cutting through the lingering haze of confidence I’d carried from the feast. “You think I’m unprepared?” 

“I think you’ve proven your strength,” they said, their tone softening slightly. “But this isn’t about strength alone. It’s about survival. About knowing where to place your power—and where to withhold it.” 

Hints of something unspoken lingered in their gaze, a quiet warning that carried the weight of experience. 

“Who are my enemies?” I asked finally, my voice quieter now. 

Uraume’s lips quirked faintly, almost a smile, though it lacked warmth. “It’s not that simple. In Sukuna’s court, allies and enemies shift as easily as the wind changes direction. Today, someone may test you with hostility. Tomorrow, they may bow to you in feigned loyalty.” 

I folded my arms, the weight of their words pressing heavier against my chest. “And you?” 

They tilted their head slightly, their pale eyes narrowing faintly. “I’m not your enemy,” they said, their voice carrying a faint edge of amusement. “If I were, you’d already know.” 

The faintest flicker of a smile tugged at my lips, though it didn’t last. “What do you suggest, then?” 

“Be careful,” they said simply, stepping closer. “Watch their words. Watch their movements. Power is only half the battle in a place like this. How you wield it—and when you withhold it—will determine how long you survive.” 

Their gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, their expression unreadable. “They’ll test you. They’ll provoke you. And when they do, remember this: nothing they say matters if they’re kneeling before you by the end of it.” 

The words hung between us, sharp and deliberate, before they stepped back toward the door. 

“Thank you,” I said, my voice quieter now, though the weight of the conversation pressed heavily against me. 

They paused, their hand resting lightly on the doorframe as they glanced back at me. “Don’t thank me yet,” they said, their tone soft but edged with something faintly like concern. “The hardest part is still to come.” 

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the room in a tense silence. 

I turned back to the choker, its faint pulse steady and insistent, as though echoing the weight of Uraume’s warning. 

The courtyard stretched wide before us, its jagged stone columns reaching toward the overcast sky like fingers clawing at the heavens. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and the faint metallic tang of cursed energy, a reminder of the immense power that suffused Sukuna’s domain. Ancient trees bordered the space, their gnarled branches casting shifting shadows over the smooth stone paths that wove through the gardens. 

At the center of it all was a raised platform, its edges carved from dark, jagged stone that gleamed faintly in the muted light. Surrounding it, Sukuna’s lords and emissaries had gathered in loose clusters, their silks and armor a riot of colors that clashed against the stark elegance of the courtyard. 

Their conversations were hushed, their glances sharp as they exchanged words too quiet to carry. Unlike the feast, this was no place for celebration. This was a gathering steeped in unease, its purpose clear in the tension that crackled through the air like the promise of a storm. 

I walked at Sukuna’s side, my hand resting lightly on his arm. His cursed energy coiled around him like smoke, brushing against my senses with every deliberate step. The pulse of the choker at my throat quickened faintly, its rhythm steady and insistent as I matched his stride. 

The lords fell silent as we entered the clearing, their voices dying as their gazes turned to us. The weight of their attention was sharp, assessing, but not unfamiliar. They had seen me before—at the feast, at the labyrinth’s end—and their unease now was not born of ignorance but of something deeper: doubt, suspicion, and the simmering undercurrent of jealousy. 

We ascended the dais, Sukuna’s pace unhurried, his presence commanding without the need for words. He didn’t need to take the jagged throne at the platform’s center to assert his authority. The air itself seemed to bend under the weight of his power, pressing against the gathered court with an unrelenting hand. 

I straightened as we reached the platform’s edge, the faint hum of the choker grounding me as I met the lords’ gazes. Some held my stare, their expressions carefully neutral but their eyes sharp with calculation. Others glanced away, unwilling to meet the force of Sukuna’s silent challenge. 

“You know why you’re here,” Sukuna said, his voice cutting through the silence like the edge of a blade. “You’ve all seen what she’s capable of. You’ve witnessed her strength.” 

The words weren’t an introduction—they were a reminder, delivered with the precision of a hammer striking iron. 

“Yet some of you still question,” he continued, his tone colder now, carrying the faintest edge of mockery. “You whisper in the shadows, cling to the hope that she is a momentary indulgence. That her strength is a flicker that will fade.” 

The tension in the courtyard sharpened, the silence thick with the weight of his words. The lords shifted uneasily, their discomfort rippling through the gathered court like a wave. 

Sukuna’s grin widened, razor-sharp, as his crimson eyes swept over them. “Let me make this clear,” he said, his tone dropping lower. “She stands under my protection. Not because she asks for it, but because she has earned it.” 

A murmur ran through the crowd, faint but unmistakable. The lords’ unease wasn’t born of ignorance—it was the result of their own ambitions being stifled, their doubts clashing against the undeniable reality of Sukuna’s decree. 

I held my chin high, the weight of their stares pressing against me but failing to crack the composure I had built. These were no strangers to me—they had seen me before, judged me before—and I wasn’t about to shrink under their scrutiny now. 

One of the lords, his robes deep red and lined with gold, stepped forward slightly. His expression was calm, but the sharpness in his eyes betrayed the calculation behind his every move. “We do not doubt her strength, my lord,” he said, his voice measured. “But strength alone is not enough to hold a place in your court.” 

Sukuna chuckled, the sound low and sharp, resonating through the courtyard like distant thunder. “Do you think I’ve chosen her lightly?” he asked, his gaze narrowing as he turned to the lord. 

“Of course not,” the lord replied smoothly, though there was a faint edge to his tone. “But loyalty is not given freely. It is earned.” 

The challenge hung in the air, subtle but deliberate, and the lords around him exchanged wary glances. 

Sukuna didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze to me, his grin sharpening into something colder, more deliberate. 

“Do you doubt her loyalty?” he asked, his voice soft but carrying a weight that pressed against the court like an iron hand. 

The lord hesitated, his composure faltering for the briefest of moments before he answered. “I do not doubt her loyalty to you,” he said carefully. “But loyalty to this court is another matter.” 

Sukuna’s laugh was sharper this time, cutting through the tension like the crack of a whip. “And who here dares to claim that their loyalty to this court outweighs their loyalty to me?” 

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of his words pressing down on the gathered lords until none dared to answer. 

“You’ll see soon enough,” Sukuna said, his tone softening into something more dangerous. “Her loyalty, her strength—they are not yours to question.” 

His cursed energy flared briefly, brushing against the gathered court like the edge of a blade. The lords bowed their heads, their unease spilling into reluctant submission. 

I stood beside him, the pulse of the choker steady against my throat as the weight of Sukuna’s declaration settled over the courtyard. Whatever doubts they held, whatever whispers they exchanged in the shadows, one thing was clear: 

They feared him. And now, they feared me too. 

The air shifted as a figure stepped forward from the edge of the gathering, their presence drawing every eye like the first roll of thunder before a storm. They moved with deliberate slowness, the heavy thud of their boots against the stone courtyard sending faint echoes through the unnerving silence. 

The curse user’s appearance was nothing short of grotesque—a study in violence rendered in flesh and bone. Their dark robes hung in jagged layers, stitched together with thick black thread that seemed barely able to contain the raw power radiating from their form. The fabric was frayed at the edges, as though scorched by fire, and lined with deep crimson patterns that twisted and curled like veins of molten lava. 

Their staff was a monstrous thing, carved from blackened wood that gleamed like obsidian under the flickering light of the braziers. Jagged shards of stone jutted from its surface, their edges sharp enough to draw blood with a touch. At its top, a misshapen crystal pulsed faintly, its glow erratic and wild, casting flickering shadows across the curse user’s face. 

And what a face it was. 

The left side of their head was marred by a jagged scar that stretched from their temple to the corner of their mouth, the flesh puckered and twisted as though melted by acid. Their skin was a patchwork of scars, some thin and pale, others thick and angry red, standing out starkly against their sallow complexion. A piece of their ear was missing, the jagged edges of the wound long since healed into a grotesque reminder of violence endured and survived. 

Their right eye was a pale, clouded white, its sightless gaze unyielding as it fixed on me with an intensity that made my chest tighten. The other eye, gleaming a sickly gold, burned with malice, its unrelenting glare heavy with judgment. Beneath it, their mouth twisted into a cruel grin, their teeth jagged and yellowed, bared in an expression that promised pain. 

The curse user’s body was no less unsettling. Their hands, skeletal and gnarled, clutched the staff tightly, their knuckles scarred and bruised as though they’d spent a lifetime breaking them against unyielding surfaces. Long, uneven nails curved like claws from their fingertips, blackened at the edges and faintly cracked. Their exposed forearms were corded with sinew, the muscles wiry and taut beneath skin that bore countless overlapping scars. 

As they moved further into the courtyard, their dark energy coiled outward, brushing against the gathered lords like the icy breath of a predator. It wasn’t the overwhelming, controlled power of Sukuna—it was raw, jagged, untamed. 

The murmurs that had filled the air moments before faded into a tense silence as the curse user stopped at the edge of the dais. They tilted their head slightly, their gaze sweeping over me with the slow, deliberate precision of someone cataloging a weakness. 

“Well,” they said, their voice low and rough, like gravel grinding beneath a boot. The sound carried effortlessly, slicing through the quiet like a blade. “I wondered if the whispers were true.” 

Their grin widened as they turned their golden eye to Sukuna, a mockery of deference in the slight dip of their head. “The great King of Curses, reduced to parading around a pet.” 

The tension in the courtyard thickened, the weight of their words pressing against the gathered lords like a vice. No one spoke, no one moved, their collective discomfort a silent acknowledgment of the curse user’s audacity. 

Sukuna didn’t react immediately. He stood motionless beside me, his crimson eyes half-lidded, his expression unreadable. But the faint ripple of his cursed energy told a different story—a subtle, ominous shift that made the air feel sharper, colder. 

The curse user’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened, their yellowed teeth catching the dim light as they gestured toward me with a sharp jerk of their chin. “This is what you’ve chosen to represent your court? A witch playing at strength? Tell me, Sukuna, has she bewitched you so thoroughly that you’ve forgotten who you are?” 

The words struck with deliberate force, their mockery a weapon wielded with calculated intent. The other lords shifted uneasily, their gazes darting between Sukuna and the curse user, the weight of the brewing storm pressing against them like the tide pulling back before a wave. 

“You’ve grown soft,” the curse user continued, their voice rising, laced with disdain. “Indulging a creature like this. She weakens you, Sukuna. She diminishes your reputation. Your enemies will see this for what it is: a crack in your throne.” 

They slammed the base of their staff against the ground, the sound reverberating through the courtyard like the toll of a bell. “And when that crack widens, it will shatter you.” 

The silence that followed was suffocating, the weight of their challenge pressing against my chest like an iron hand. But I didn’t flinch. 

My grip on Sukuna’s arm tightened slightly, the pulse of the choker at my throat quickening as I met the curse user’s golden gaze. There was no fear in my expression, only a sharp, simmering defiance that burned against the malice they aimed in my direction. 

Sukuna’s grin widened slowly, his crimson eyes gleaming with dangerous amusement. But he didn’t speak, didn’t move. 

Not yet. 

The hall stood frozen, the air sharp with anticipation as the curse user’s mocking words settled over the gathered lords like a veil of smoke. Whispers stirred faintly at the edges of the crowd—uneasy murmurs exchanged between wary glances, though a few lords allowed smirks to curl their lips, relishing the unfolding spectacle. 

Others were less amused. Shifting uncomfortably, they avoided looking directly at Sukuna, as if fearing that their silent observations might invoke his wrath. The air itself seemed to hum with tension, the braziers’ flames flickering erratically as cursed energy rippled faintly at the edges of the dais. 

I felt the weight of every gaze, the sting of every sharp glance, but I didn’t shrink beneath it. Instead, I stepped forward, the hem of my crimson gown whispering against the smooth stone as I placed myself between Sukuna and the curse user. 

The shift in the air was immediate. 

The lords’ murmurs grew louder, their voices rippling with a mix of surprise and curiosity. Some leaned forward slightly, their expressions sharp with intrigue, while others sat back, their eyes narrowing as they waited for me to falter. 

“You have a lot to say,” I said, my voice cutting through the quiet with a calm precision that carried far more weight than the venomous mockery that had preceded it. 

The curse user’s golden eye flicked to me, their scarred lips curling into a grin that was equal parts amusement and malice. “And the witch speaks,” they said, their tone laced with mockery. “Have you come to defend your master’s honor, little pet?” 

A faint ripple of laughter echoed from one corner of the hall, quickly silenced by a sharp glance from Sukuna’s crimson eyes. 

I tilted my head slightly, the faintest smile tugging at my lips as I met the curse user’s glare head-on. “You’re bold to stand here, speaking of honor,” I said, my tone smooth but edged with steel. “Bold, or desperate. Perhaps both.” 

The curse user’s grin faltered for the briefest moment, their expression hardening as a faint murmur ran through the lords. 

“I see no desperation in my standing,” they said, their voice colder now. “But I see plenty in yours. A witch clinging to the coattails of power, pretending to be more than what you are.” 

I took another step forward, the choker’s pulse steady against my throat as I allowed the faintest ripple of my own cursed energy to thread through the air. It wasn’t overwhelming—not yet—but it was enough to make the lords shift in their seats, their discomfort rippling outward like the widening circles of a disturbed pond. 

“Pretending?” I echoed, my voice soft but sharp. “Pretending is what you do when you stand here, trying to convince yourself that your words carry weight in his court.” I gestured faintly to Sukuna, whose expression remained unreadable, though his four eyes gleamed faintly with a dangerous amusement. “But they don’t. You’re nothing more than a whisper in the wind—a hollow threat wrapped in a tattered robe.” 

A murmur swept through the lords again, louder this time, tinged with approval from some and disbelief from others. 

The curse user’s grin vanished entirely, replaced by a sneer as their fingers tightened around the jagged staff they carried. “You think you can intimidate me?” they growled, their voice low and rough. “You think your borrowed strength makes you untouchable?” 

I held their gaze, the faint glow of the choker’s crimson gemstone flickering like firelight against the polished stone of the dais. “I don’t need to intimidate you,” I said, my voice calm. “Your fear is already written across your face.” 

The words struck like a blade, and the curse user’s cursed energy surged in response. The air grew colder, heavier, as their jagged power coiled outward in sharp, chaotic tendrils that rippled through the hall like the crack of a thunderstorm. 

Lords flinched, some recoiling from the raw energy as it lashed against the edges of the gathering, stirring the braziers’ flames into frenzied flickers. 

The curse user took a step forward, their staff slamming against the stone with a resonant crack that sent shards of light splintering outward. “You hide behind him,” they said, their voice rising with a cold, biting fury. “But let’s see what you are without Sukuna’s shadow to shield you.” 

Their cursed energy surged again, twisting into a jagged arc that lashed toward me with a force that made the ground beneath my feet shudder. The air burned sharp and cold, the raw power snapping like the strike of a whip as it tore toward me. 

I didn’t flinch. 

Instead, I raised a hand, the pulse of the choker igniting as my magic flared to life. The air around me shifted, the sharp, deliberate tendrils of my own energy coiling outward to meet the attack head-on. 

The collision was explosive. 

A burst of light filled the room as the two forces clashed, the resulting shockwave rattling the columns and shattering several of the delicate ornaments that lined the hall’s edges. Lords recoiled, some shielding their faces as the force rippled outward, sending faint vibrations through the polished stone floor. 

The curse user pushed harder, their jagged energy clawing at mine with wild ferocity. But where their power was raw and chaotic, mine was deliberate—shaped by precision, guided by intent. 

I took a step forward, my magic coiling tighter, sharper, cutting through the chaotic tendrils like a blade through fabric. The curse user’s sneer faltered, the golden glint of their eye narrowing as the balance shifted. 

“You think this display makes you strong?” they growled, their voice laced with fury as they pushed harder. 

“No,” I said, my voice steady as I took another step forward. “But it makes you weak.” 

The final surge of my power lashed forward, cutting through their energy entirely. The jagged tendrils shattered, dissolving into the air like smoke, as the force of the blow sent them stumbling back, their boots scraping against the polished stone. 

The room fell silent. 

Every gaze in the court was fixed on me, some wide with disbelief, others narrowing with grudging respect. The air was still heavy with tension, but it was no longer oppressive—it was charged with the undeniable reality of what had just unfolded. 

The curse user straightened, their staff trembling faintly in their scarred hand as they glared at me with unrestrained fury. “You’ll regret that,” they snarled, their voice low and venomous. 

It was then that Sukuna moved. 

He stepped forward, his pace unhurried, his crimson robes whispering against the stone as his cursed energy surged with a ferocity that sent chills racing down my spine. 

The curse user froze, their golden eye widening as Sukuna’s presence swallowed the space between us like a wave overtaking the shore. 

“You’ve made your point,” Sukuna said, his voice low and resonant, carrying the weight of a blade drawn slowly from its sheath. “And now you will leave.” 

The curse user’s jaw tightened, their grip on their staff tightening as though they were contemplating another strike. But Sukuna’s grin widened, slow and deliberate, and the faint ripple of his cursed energy grew heavier, pressing against the room like the weight of an oncoming storm. 

“Unless,” he continued, his tone softening into something colder, more dangerous, “you’d prefer to stay and entertain me.” 

The words weren’t a threat—they were a promise, and the curse user knew it. 

They straightened, their sneer returning as they took a step back. “Enjoy your moment, Sukuna,” they said, their voice dripping with disdain. “It won’t last.” 

They turned toward the gathered lords, their golden eye sweeping over the court with calculated malice. “This is what your king has become—a fool blinded by indulgence.” 

The curse user’s voice rose, echoing through the hall with a chilling finality. “War is coming to your domain, Sukuna. And when it does, I’ll tear down this court and everything you hold dear.” 

The silence that followed was sharp, cutting through the room like the aftermath of a blade’s strike. 

Sukuna’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened, his amusement gleaming faintly in the sharp light of his crimson eyes. “Then you’d better bring everything you have,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “Because the last thing you’ll see is my shadow swallowing yours.” 

The curse user didn’t reply. With a sharp crack of their staff against the stone, they turned and strode toward the hall’s entrance, their energy trailing behind them like the ghost of a storm.  

The sound of the curse user’s footsteps faded into the distance, but their words lingered like a poison seeping into the air. For a moment, the hall was silent, the oppressive tension hanging heavy as the gathered lords processed what had just transpired. 

And then, chaos. 

Whispers rose first, sharp and urgent, like the rustling of dry leaves in a rising storm. Lords turned to one another, their voices rising with each passing moment, their fear and unease spilling over into frantic exchanges. Some gestured wildly, their silk sleeves fluttering like banners, while others kept their words low, their gazes darting nervously toward Sukuna as though afraid he might catch wind of their panic. 

“What does this mean?” one lord whispered harshly, his face pale and tight with tension. 

“They’ll attack!” another hissed, his voice trembling. “If war comes, none of us will—” 

“Silence!” a woman snapped, her fan snapping shut in her hand with a sharp crack. “Do you want him to hear you?” 

But the murmurs continued to build, rippling through the court like waves crashing against the jagged rocks of Sukuna’s presence. A few shouted outright, their voices laced with accusations and fear. 

“He’s made us vulnerable!” 

“This witch has brought ruin to our doorstep!” 

“She’s a liability!” 

The words cut through the air like blades, sharp and unforgiving, each one carrying the weight of the court’s mounting anxiety. 

I stood beside Sukuna, my chest tight as I processed the magnitude of what had just transpired. The curse user’s retreat wasn’t a surrender—it was a declaration of war, a promise that blood would be spilled, and that Sukuna’s dominion would be tested in ways even his lords feared to imagine. 

The pulse of the choker at my throat quickened, its energy threading through me like an anchor, grounding me as the storm of voices grew louder. I refused to look away, refused to let the weight of their stares and accusations crush me. 

Sukuna remained seated, his towering presence unshaken as he watched the chaos unfold. His expression was calm, almost amused, as though the shouting and whispering were nothing more than a distant echo of a storm that couldn’t reach him. 

And then he moved. 

Rising from his seat with a deliberate, unhurried motion, he stepped forward, his crimson robes pooling around him like molten fire. His cursed energy surged, coiling outward in a wave that pressed against the gathered lords like an iron hand. 

The room fell silent in an instant. 

Every voice stilled, every head turned, the weight of Sukuna’s presence swallowing the chaos as though it had never existed. The lords froze where they stood, their gazes fixed on him with a mixture of fear and reverence. 

Sukuna’s crimson eyes swept over them, two half-lidded with faint amusement, while the others gleamed with a sharp, predatory focus. His grin widened slowly, deliberate and menacing, as though savoring the weight of their collective fear. 

“Are you done?” he asked, his voice low and resonant, cutting through the silence like the crack of a whip. 

The lords flinched, their discomfort palpable as they bowed their heads, some murmuring faint apologies under their breath. 

Sukuna stepped forward, his movements slow but deliberate, his cursed energy rippling through the air like the distant rumble of thunder. He stopped at the edge of the dais, his gaze turning to me briefly before sweeping back to the gathered court. 

“Let them come,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of absolute certainty. “I’ll enjoy this.” 

The words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike, their finality pressing against the lords with a force that left no room for argument. 

His grin sharpened, the faint gleam of his teeth catching the light as his crimson eyes burned with anticipation. “War is not a threat to me,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, almost a purr. “It is an opportunity. And I suggest you remember that.” 

The lords exchanged uneasy glances, their fear barely concealed as they bowed their heads again, their voices stilled by the suffocating weight of his presence. 

Beside him, I straightened, the pulse of the choker steadying me as I met his gaze. His expression didn’t soften—not for me, not for anyone—but the faintest flicker of approval glinted in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of my place at his side. 

The storm had come. 

And Sukuna stood at its center, unshaken, unrelenting, and utterly unafraid. 

The room was dimly lit, the warm glow of braziers casting shifting shadows across the lacquered walls. The faint hum of cursed energy lingered in the air, sharp and steady, as though the estate itself was bracing for what was to come. 

I stood near the low lacquered table at the center of the room, my fingers brushing against its polished surface. Uraume sat cross-legged at the opposite end, their pale eyes sharp and focused, their usual composure carrying a subtle edge of tension. 

Sukuna leaned against the far wall, his crimson robes pooling around him like molten fire. His four eyes gleamed faintly in the flickering light, their sharp intensity fixed on the map spread across the table. 

The silence stretched, heavy and expectant, until Sukuna finally spoke. 

“They’ve been planning this for some time,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. His tone wasn’t angry—if anything, it carried a faint edge of amusement, as though the idea of an impending war was more of an inconvenience than a threat. “They wouldn’t dare move against me without reason. Or desperation.” 

Uraume nodded, their fingers tracing the edge of the map. “The curse user who appeared today,” they began, their tone measured, “is Kaito of the Obsidian Claw. A known figure in the western regions. He’s ruthless and ambitious, but until now, he hasn’t had the power to challenge you directly.” 

“And now he thinks he does,” I said, my voice calm but edged with defiance. 

Uraume’s gaze flicked to me, their expression unreadable. “He wouldn’t have issued a challenge without allies. This isn’t just his doing. There are others—likely curse users and lesser lords dissatisfied with Sukuna’s rule. Their rebellion isn’t born of strength, but of collective arrogance.” 

Sukuna chuckled, the sound low and sharp, reverberating through the room like the tolling of a distant bell. “Arrogance is easy to crush,” he said, his grin widening. “But collective arrogance? That could be entertaining.” 

I glanced at him, my brow furrowing slightly. “You’re treating this like a game,” I said, my tone sharper than intended. “But they aren’t bluffing. Kaito isn’t the type to back down, not after a declaration like that.” 

Sukuna’s gaze shifted to me, his grin softening into something colder, more deliberate. “And why should I be worried?” he asked, his voice laced with mockery. “Do you doubt my ability to handle this?” 

“No,” I replied evenly, holding his gaze. “But dismissing them entirely would be a mistake. They’re betting on that arrogance.” 

The air between us crackled faintly, the weight of his cursed energy brushing against my senses. But I didn’t falter. 

“She’s right,” Uraume said suddenly, breaking the tension. “Kaito knows he can’t match your power alone. He’ll rely on numbers, on alliances that give the illusion of strength. He’ll strike where he believes you’re vulnerable—through your court, your lords, even your borders.” 

Sukuna’s grin widened, his eyes narrowing with sharp amusement. “And let him try. It’s been far too quiet around here. A little chaos might do everyone some good.” 

Uraume’s expression didn’t change, but their tone shifted, carrying a faint edge of urgency. “This isn’t just about the court, my lord. Kaito’s challenge today wasn’t just aimed at you. It was aimed at her.” 

The words hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. 

I straightened, the pulse of the choker at my throat quickening as Sukuna’s gaze flicked back to me. 

“Of course it was,” Sukuna said, his voice dropping lower, almost a purr. “They see her as the crack in my foundation. The weakness they can exploit.” 

“They’re wrong,” I said sharply, my voice cutting through the tension. 

Sukuna’s grin widened further, his expression gleaming with dangerous satisfaction. “Prove it, little witch,” he said softly, his tone both a challenge and a command. 

Uraume’s gaze shifted between us, their pale eyes narrowing slightly. “If Kaito believes she’s the weak link, he’ll target her directly. He’ll aim to discredit her, to drive a wedge between her and the court. And if he succeeds, it won’t just weaken her—it’ll reflect on you.” 

The weight of their words pressed against the room, the charged silence stretching taut. 

I exhaled slowly, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “Then I’ll face him,” I said, my tone steady despite the tightness in my chest. 

Sukuna chuckled, his voice low and resonant. “Oh, you’ll face him, little witch,” he said, his crimson eyes gleaming with sharp intent. “And when you do, you’ll remind him why he never should have dared to stand against me.” 

Uraume’s lips pressed into a thin line, their expression unreadable as they inclined their head. “If we’re to prepare, we’ll need to gather intelligence—confirm his alliances, his movements, and the full extent of his plans. That will take time.” 

“Time I’ll give you,” Sukuna said, his tone soft but carrying the weight of command. He turned to me, his grin softening into something sharper, more calculating. “But when the time comes, you’ll be ready. Won’t you?” 

I met his gaze, the pulse of the choker steadying me as I straightened. “I’ll be ready.” 

Sukuna’s grin widened, his satisfaction gleaming faintly in the flickering light. “Good,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Because war is coming. And I intend to enjoy every moment of it.” 

Uraume inclined their head, their sharp, pale eyes lingering on Sukuna for a moment before flicking to me. There was something unsaid in their gaze—a quiet warning, perhaps, or an acknowledgment of the tension that crackled faintly in the air between us. 

“Then I’ll see to the preparations,” Uraume said, their tone even but carrying an edge of finality. 

Sukuna dismissed them with a wave of his hand, his focus already shifting. The door clicked shut behind Uraume, the faint sound swallowed by the thick, charged air of the room. The glow of the braziers cast flickering shadows across the lacquered walls, the firelight catching on Sukuna’s robes as he shifted. His cursed energy pressed outward in slow, deliberate waves, brushing against my senses like smoke curling around a flame. 

I stood still, my heart thrumming steadily against the pulse of the choker at my throat. Sukuna didn’t speak immediately. He turned instead, his movements slow and deliberate, his crimson robes pooling around him like molten fire as he leaned against the low table. 

When he finally looked at me, his four eyes held a dangerous gleam, their sharp intensity leaving no room for misinterpretation. 

“You’re holding your own well, little witch,” he said, his tone carrying the faintest edge of amusement. “But tell me—are you truly as fearless as you pretend to be?” 

I lifted my chin slightly, refusing to shrink under the weight of his gaze. “I don’t need to pretend,” I said evenly. “I’ve stood before you, haven’t I?” 

His grin widened, slow and predatory, as he pushed off the table and began to move toward me. The air seemed to thrum with his presence, his cursed energy coiling tighter, sharper, as though testing the limits of my composure. 

“Brave words,” he murmured, his voice low, a velvet rasp that sent a shiver racing down my spine. “But bravery and foolishness often walk hand in hand.” 

“And which do you think I am?” I countered, forcing my voice steady despite the tension tightening my chest. 

He stopped just a pace away, towering over me, his gaze burning with unspoken intent. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” he said softly, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin. “You’re still standing, which is more than most can say. But standing and enduring are two different things.” 

I didn’t flinch, even as his cursed energy brushed against me, warm and suffocating, its weight settling against my skin like a second heartbeat. 

“Maybe you’re testing the wrong person,” I said, my voice sharp despite the heat building between us. 

His grin deepened, his teeth catching the light like the gleam of a blade. “Oh, I know exactly who I’m testing,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. 

Before I could respond, he moved closer, his hand bracing against the wall beside my head with a sharp crack that sent a jolt through the air. His other hand found my waist, his grip firm but not painful, pulling me flush against the cool surface of the wall. 

The heat of him was overwhelming, his cursed energy pressing against me with a force that left no space for air, no room for doubt. His crimson eyes burned into mine, their sharp intensity leaving my chest tight, my breath shallow. 

“You’re different,” he said, his tone softening into something more deliberate, more dangerous. “You don’t tremble. You don’t break. And I can’t decide if that makes you clever—or reckless.” 

“Maybe it makes me neither,” I said, my voice quieter now but edged with defiance. 

His grin shifted, softening into something darker as his nose brushed lightly against my temple, his breath warm against my skin. “No,” he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous rasp. “It makes you mine.” 

The words sent a rush of heat through me, the weight of their implication leaving me momentarily breathless. My hands twitched at my sides, caught between the instinct to push him away and the maddening pull that drew me closer. 

“You assume too much,” I said finally, my voice steady despite the storm building between us. 

His laughter was soft, a low rumble that vibrated against my senses. “Do I?” he asked, his tone dripping with mockery. “Or are you simply afraid to admit that you feel it too?” 

I turned my head slightly, my gaze locking onto his with a sharp defiance I barely felt. “Feel what?” 

His lower hand shifted, his thumb brushing lightly against the curve of my waist. “This pull,” he said softly. “This fire between us. You’re not blind to it—you’re just afraid of what it might burn.” 

The air between us crackled like lightning, the pulse of the choker quickening against my throat as his cursed energy coiled tighter, pressing against me like a vice. His gaze dropped briefly to my lips, the motion deliberate, maddening, before returning to meet mine. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, my voice sharp but quiet, each word deliberate. 

“No,” he said, his voice low, a quiet growl. “You’re afraid of yourself.” 

The words hit harder than I expected, a blade that carved through the tension with unsettling precision. His upper left hand moved to tilt my chin upward, his claws brushing lightly against my jaw as he brought my face closer to his. 

“I see it in you,” he murmured, his tone carrying a dark satisfaction. “The power you keep caged. The fire you’re too scared to let consume you. But it will, little witch. One way or another, it will.” 

My breath hitched, the weight of his cursed energy suffocating, the heat of him leaving no space for thought, only sensation. His lips hovered just a breath away from mine, his gaze unrelenting, as though daring me to close the distance. 

“Stop playing games,” I said, my voice trembling between defiance and something far more dangerous. 

He chuckled softly, the sound low and resonant as his teeth grazed the edge of my jaw, the motion deliberate and maddeningly slow. “This isn’t a game,” he said, his voice a velvet rasp against my skin. “This is inevitability.” 

The words hung heavily between us, the tension suffocating as the pull between us became unbearable. And then, just as suddenly, he pulled back, his cursed energy retreating like a tide, leaving the air cold and empty. 

“Think on it,” he said, his grin sharp and triumphant as he stepped away. “You won’t resist forever.” 

He disappeared into the shadows, his presence lingering in the faint hum of the choker and the wild thrum of my heartbeat. I leaned against the wall, my chest heaving as I fought to steady myself, the storm he left in his wake raging long after he was gone. 

dividers by @strangergraphics

AUTHORS NOTE I'm trying my hardest to keep up a schedule of putting a new chapter out everyday, but my college classes have started up again, so be forewarned that I may not be able to have a new chapter out as consistently. I'll try my best to keep up, but know you have my sincerest apologies if I fail to make it.

TAGLIST @slutlight2ndver @surielstea @duhhitzstarr @arcanefeelings @numbuh666 @tejan-sunny @lavenderandoranges @after-laughter-comes-tears @maomimii @theplacetoputfics

[starchaser45]

This is the most judgement look I've ever seen in my life 😭

I'm sorry but Arthur created the word brat 😭

[rogueshadow1124]

LOST AND FOUND

[Ryomen Sukuna x reader]

Summary: back in the heiran era Y/N and Sukuna found each other but Y/N disappeared just as quickly. Now it's far in the future, a new era, but what was to come.

Word count: 1595

Warnings: none.

In the ancient era of the Heian Period, Ryomen Sukuna ruled over all with an iron fist. He was the undisputed King of Curses, feared by all who dared to cross his path. His power was legendary, his cruelty unmatched. The very mention of his name caused shudders of terror to ripple through the land. But there was one person who had not feared him—one person whose presence softened the jagged edges of his monstrous soul. Y/N Y/L/N.

Y/N was a mystery, a wanderer who had appeared one fateful day in Sukuna’s life, completely oblivious to the terror he commanded. She had stumbled into his domain, her life fragile and flickering, yet her spirit unyielding. For reasons even Sukuna couldn’t explain, he had spared her, kept her by his side instead of obliterating her as he had done to so many before. Over time, their bond deepened, and for the first time, the King of Curses felt something strange, something foreign—a tenderness that gnawed at the darkness in his heart.

But just as quickly as she had appeared, Y/N vanished, slipping from his grasp without a trace. The years that followed were filled with rage, frustration, and a hollowness that Sukuna could never fill. His wrath grew more terrifying, his cruelty more sadistic, all because the one person who had brought him any semblance of peace was gone. Eventually, Sukuna was defeated, executed by the combined forces of Japan’s most powerful sorcerers, but even as his body was sealed, his mind lingered on Y/N.

He never forgot her.

Centuries later, Sukuna awoke in the body of a boy named Yuji Itadori. The world had changed—its people, its culture, and its technology—but the dark, brooding anger that swirled within Sukuna remained the same. Itadori was nothing more than a vessel, a container for Sukuna's immense power. In this new world, Sukuna sought nothing but the restoration of his former strength, eager to reign over the weak and claim his place as the King of Curses once again.

But something unexpected happened.

As Sukuna adapted to this unfamiliar time, bound to the whims of the young and surprisingly resilient Yuji, he began to notice an eerie familiarity. A presence, almost imperceptible at first, haunted his senses like a whisper from a past he had long tried to bury. For weeks, it was nothing more than a feeling—a fleeting sensation of déjà vu. But one day, while Itadori was on a mission with his comrades, Sukuna sensed it clearly, an unmistakable tug in the pit of his soul.

It was Y/N.

The air was heavy with the scent of rain as Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro, and Nobara Kugisaki approached an abandoned shrine in the heart of Tokyo. The sky was dark, thick clouds rumbling with the threat of a storm. The mission had been simple enough—exorcise a low-level curse that had been terrorizing the area. But the closer they got to the shrine, the more uneasy Itadori felt.

Suddenly, Sukuna stirred within him, more forceful than ever before.

"Itadori," Sukuna’s voice dripped with an uncharacteristic urgency, “stop.”

"What? Why?" Itadori muttered, confused by the sudden demand.

"Stop moving. There’s something here… something I need to see."

Despite his better judgment, Itadori hesitated, coming to a halt as the others glanced back at him, perplexed.

“Is something wrong?” Fushiguro asked, his brows furrowed in suspicion.

But Itadori’s focus was inward, grappling with the sudden shift in Sukuna’s demeanor. The curse had never been like this—never this intense, this… frantic.

Before he could respond, the air in front of them shimmered. The faint outline of a figure emerged from the shadows, bathed in the dim light of the setting sun. A woman, her silhouette familiar in ways that sent chills down Itadori’s spine.

She stepped into the light, her form becoming clearer, and Sukuna—locked deep within the confines of his vessel—felt the earth shatter beneath him.

It was her. It was Y/N.

Sukuna’s heart, if such a thing still existed in that hollow chest of his, slammed against his ribs. He had convinced himself that Y/N was gone, lost to time like the rest of his ancient past. Yet here she stood, in the same flesh, the same soft features that had once haunted his dreams. Her eyes, wide and confused, scanned the group before landing on Itadori.

On him.

On Sukuna.

"Who are you?" Nobara asked, her voice steady, though tinged with wariness.

The woman’s gaze never left Itadori, and Sukuna knew she recognized him—or rather, what was inside of him. It was as if she could see through the boy, beyond the surface, and into the dark pit where Sukuna's soul resided.

Y/N’s voice trembled when she finally spoke, “Ryomen... Sukuna?”

The sound of her voice—it was like a knife twisting in his chest. How many years had passed? How was she still here? How could she still be alive?

Itadori could feel Sukuna’s overwhelming surge of emotions, emotions that he had never associated with the malevolent curse. For once, the King of Curses wasn’t angry, wasn’t vengeful—he was something else. Shocked? Unsettled?

Sukuna forced himself to the surface, taking control of Itadori’s body with a wave of energy that made the boy's companions stumble back.

"Sukuna!" Fushiguro growled, his fists clenching in preparation for a fight.

But Sukuna wasn’t interested in them. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, his gaze sharp and disbelieving as he towered over her, standing in a body that wasn’t truly his.

“How are you here?” Sukuna’s voice was low, dangerous, yet laced with something akin to wonder. “You should be dead. Long dead.”

Y/N’s eyes were wide, brimming with the weight of centuries of memories. She stepped forward, her face pale but resolute, as if searching for some remnant of the man she had once known within the demon now inhabiting a stranger’s body.

“I—I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice fragile, trembling. “I don’t know how I’m here. One day I was in your time, and the next… everything was different. I’ve been searching for answers, for you… ever since.”

Sukuna’s expression hardened, though his emotions swirled chaotically beneath the surface. His memories of Y/N—of the years they had spent together—came rushing back, vivid and raw. She had been the only person to ever see him as something other than a monster, and it had driven him mad when she disappeared.

He had scoured the earth, razed villages, and destroyed kingdoms, all in a vain attempt to find her, to reclaim what had been taken from him. Yet, even in his most vicious moments, he had never imagined she would be here—in this time, in this world.

"You left," Sukuna growled, the bitterness in his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You vanished without a trace. Why?"

Y/N’s face twisted in pain as she tried to piece together the fragmented memories of her past. “I didn’t mean to. I don’t even remember what happened. One moment I was with you, and the next… everything was gone. I was alone. I’ve been alone for centuries.”

Her words hit Sukuna harder than he expected. Centuries. She had been alive all this time, wandering a world that had forgotten her. The thought of her suffering, of her searching for him while he had been sealed away, ignited something deep within him—a fury that had nothing to do with curses or power.

"Why didn’t you come for me sooner?" Sukuna’s voice was dangerously low, but there was an undercurrent of desperation in it.

Y/N shook her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I didn’t know where to look. I didn’t know if you were even alive. I’ve been trying—trying to find you, to understand why I’m still here, why I haven’t aged or died.”

For the first time in his long, violent existence, Sukuna found himself at a loss for words. The King of Curses, the monster that had terrorized the Heian era, stood frozen in the face of something he had never known how to confront—vulnerability. Y/N was the only person who had ever made him feel anything beyond the lust for power and destruction, and now, centuries later, she stood before him, just as broken as he was.

In a rare moment of clarity, Sukuna released his grip on Itadori’s body, allowing the boy to regain control. Itadori stumbled, gasping for air, his eyes wide in confusion as he tried to process what had just happened.

But Y/N’s gaze never left Sukuna, even as Itadori looked at her with bewilderment. She knew who she was speaking to, even if the body was not his own.

“Ryomen,” she whispered, her voice soft and aching. “I never stopped searching for you.”

Itadori, still recovering from the sudden loss of control, glanced between Y/N and his comrades, unsure of what to do. But before he could say anything, Y/N stepped closer, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch Itadori’s chest—Sukuna’s chest.

“I don’t know why fate has brought us here,” she murmured, her fingers ghosting over Itadori’s shirt as if she were trying to reach the man buried beneath. “But I’ve been waiting for this moment for longer than I can remember.”

And for the first time in centuries, Sukuna—the King of Curses, the most feared being to have ever walked the earth—felt something other than rage. It was the faintest glimmer of hope, a small flicker in the endless darkness that consumed him.

It was Y/N. And she was here.

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

"Gods look at you, it's like you were made for this."

"Uh yeah, am made for you only, yes, yes—"

"Gorgeous, so good for me, keep your eyes open love—yes, that's it—perfect."

"Arthurr, uh, please—more, more!"

"As you wish sweetheart." – King Arthur and Court Sorcerer Merlin

[Destiny has gifted him the one who completes his soul, how lucky of a King he is to have a powerful lover ruling at his side; Merlin his lovely warlock, spread wide open and needy, reaching out for him, Arthur Pendragon the High King of Albion.

It's hard to hold back his desires in public when all he wants to do is lay Merlin bare, explore all the places he's conquered and repeatedly fill the space inside his warlock with his love.]

[escespace]

Merlin: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

Arthur: Not all problems can be solved with magic

Merlin: ...

Arthur: I will stick to what I said

Merlin: ...

Arthur: Okok but you can do this *proceeds to do sword tricks* and I could do it with two!

[almaadst]

This year has already brought me more commissions to complete, for which I am grateful! But who cares about that when Sukuna's tatas are on screen? 🥵 Commission info

[cxvii666]

part 2 🫡

"so i take it you two have met before?"

"yes!"

"no."

ino takuma turns to you, with a irritatingly cute half smirk on his face as you pointedly focus on ignoring him.

"no? really?"

you resist the urge to roll your eyes and give nanami kento, your superior a tight smile.

"we uh, we were at the academy at the same time."

in a room full of your seniors and underclassmen you so hoped he wouldn't be here but, as always, luck was on your side.

you had left tokyo and moved to kyoto to begin training under utahime iori immediately after graduating, trying to obtain a grade one rank as a sorcerer. it had been a gruelling two years as utahime, while a mostly a sweetheart, was not an laidback teacher. which, of course was to be expected, i mean as semi grade one sorcerer she could be insanely harsh and uncompromising. this was great for your development for your cursed technique and overall control of cursed energy but not so great for, what had been, something of a blossoming relationship between you and ino.

you had gotten over him, mostly (not at all), but seeing him again, after he had grown out his hair and had a growth spurt and was smiling at you in that cute boyish way that he did back in the day-

MEANT NOTHING! ahem. didn't matter as you weren't here to see him. you were in tokyo on business.

utahime had been called in by some of tokyo's higher ups to deal with a the influx of high grade cursed spirits due to the presence of sukuna's vessel and had had you tag along with her as support.

'not that she needed it,' you thought to yourself looking around at those in the room.

you didn't doubt the current tokyo first and second years would out rank you had they enough field experience. paired with the presence of nanami kento and his 'apprentice', you were sure the tokyo sorcerers could have had this handled but the fact that utahime had chosen to bring you here amongst such high level sorcerers meant you had an opportunity to prove yourself. and you would not let a childhood relationship ruin that.

but ino, on the other hand was absolutely kicking his feet at the chance to see you again. as soon as he heard that utahime was going to be there with 'one of her younger associates' he'd asked (begged) nanami to let him 'assist him'. nanami had been skeptical at the time but he had just assumed that ino had wanted to show off to his underclassmen. but now looking at the two of you together he began to connect the dots.

......

"oh my god, takuma you gotta stop."

"you smell so good."

"fucking creep."

"you love it."

you stiffle a giggle as he works his nose up your neck, behind your ear and takes a deep inhale. fuck he missed you so much you have no idea. you sigh contentedly as his hands snake up the inside of your shirt and he starts leaving light kisses on the skin behind your ear.

ino has you pressed up against, you're not even sure, some wall of some corridor in one of the many halls of the tokyo's jujutsu high school, both of you buzzing with adrenaline after a job well done.

"you gotta stop before one of the students see us."

he closes his eyes as your hand snakes it's way up his back and grips his hair tightly making him whine quietly.

"fuck babe, i don't care, let them."

his kisses grow teeth and he grazes them across the lobe of your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck to hide a groan as you yank on his hair.

"yeah, what if your precious nanami comes by?"

ino lets out a sigh of dissatisfaction before retracting his hands from shirt and taking your hands in his.

"how long are you in town?" he asks you, biting his lip gently, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

you drop his hands, "i'm supposed to go head back after this-"

he starts to pout but before he can say anything else you cup his face with your hands and smile softly at him.

"but for you, i suppose i could stay the night."

big up to myself for always adding unnecessary detail, we love to see it 🙏🏾‼️

lol my first official tumblr drabble dedicated to my underrated king 😏😈

[cutseys0ulxx]

HI I CAN NEVER FIND KASHIMO WRITERS 😿😿

can you write a sfw alphabet of him pls 😿🙏

i’m begging 😿😿🙏🙏

why hello there 🌝

ignore typos if any 🚶🏽‍♀️

Ty for requesting 🤗🤗!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Kashimo is type of person who is affectionate only around you but hates to show that side of him. Once he found out that you really didn’t care, he is all over you. Hajime doesn’t open up to any and everyone. But you, he feels the complete opposite. So he’s miserable every-time you held him in your arms or vice versa. He loves you so much, it just took him awhile of how to properly show it. Truly and deep down- he’s all yours. Whether it’s to cuddles or play-fighting. Kashimo can’t ever get enough of you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

The friendship was weird with him since he wasn’t really the type of person to have friends. Hajime believed that friendships were only a something to get in his way, but when he met you he felt so different. Therefore he became attached to you. Kashimo loved your presence, and his heart only grew bigger for you overtime. As a friend, he’s a really interesting and entertaining person to have around. He can easily make your entire day just like you make his. (Is the listener to your yapper, or moon to your sun 🥹.)

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He doesn’t do it too often, but when he does, thats it. You never even see them coming. He’ll just wrap your arms around you and do whatever he wants from there. Although it’s so sudden, he is so precious. Kashimo will praise any little thing about you while his arms are wrapped around your waist. Inhaling your scent as his head lays comfortably on your chest. Always expect it when he is tired, or moody. All he would want is just to melt in your touch. Oh and talk to him. Tell him stories, anything. Your voice is angelic. He could listen to it all day.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Best believe Hajime would help you out if he knew how to. It doesn’t help that he’s constantly on his feet as a sorcerer. Kashimo isn’t used to doing all the stuff since he wasn’t too much of the expectation back in his day besides being one of the strongest sorcerers and yata yata. That definitely won’t prevent him from giving you a hand. He’s not the best cook, and you have to teach him how to sweep. (😭) You just have to held his hand a little bit, and Kashimo gets the hang of it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Hajime would be shattered. It feels impossible to have to make it without you. In the over a hundred years of his life you were his first and his best partner. You gave him a great experience and he hates to let it go. Kashimo always tells himself that he’ll never find anyone like you. Thats why he was single for so long, so he never forgets you. He can’t even if he tried. No matter how hard he tries he just can’t. It’s almost like you’re still there when he misses you most.. And it won’t be anytime soon he’ll be moving on.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

It won’t be immediately that he will ask. Honestly it’s not the first thing on his mind, possibly the last, but he for sure thinks of it. He has to be absolutely positive that you’re both willing to be engaged before he proposes. The same goes for him. Just a heads up it will take awhile. As long as you’re fine with it and he is certain he wants to do it, then he might just consider it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

The last thing Kashimo will ever do is hurt you. He will take the pain himself and endure it for you every-time you are hurt if he be able to. He’s protective with you enough for even the minority of things, how could he hurt you himself? Besides that point, he is extremely careful with you. As if you’re something fragile or delicate. (you are in his eyes) Every-time he gets mad at something or even you he always makes sure to distance himself to keep him from doing anything stupid. If he had ever come to hurt you he would hate himself for the rest of his life.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Tight hugger and strong one. He doesn’t do it on purpose, sometimes. Any other time it’ll just be something simple. For example, In public Hajime will wrap his arm around your shoulders. When you two are somewhere more private he’ll pick you up and forces your legs around his waist. Hugging you like you’re going somewhere. In simple words Kashimo is a great hugger. Whether he’s gentle or aggressive.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

If i’m completely honest here you most likely said it first. But it didn’t take him long to realize that he Did love you. He just terrified to tell you with his own words. You could reject him- or anything. Poor baby was constantly in his own head. Questioning why you made him feel this way. Kashimo, after a very long while would tell you… Very long while. He didn’t even know that you figured, there were too many signs not to see for yourself. That’s probably another reason why you would have to speak on it first, unless you’re really patient.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Ohhh boyy.. He can get pretty possessive. Will give you the nastiest side eye when you speak to other people. Totally denies it when you bring it up. Plays along like he’s slick or plays stupid. “What are you talking about?” or “Pfft. Why would I be jealous.” He says proudly knowing damn well he’s trying with all his might not to punch the closest thing to him. (Excluding you 🙁) Will admit to it after like a week?? Claims he didn’t like how a guy talked to you all buddy-buddy. You just shake your head and laugh at him, only making him pout even more. (You owe him.)

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kashimo’s kisses are like a box of chocolate. Loves to kiss you wherever his eyes can guide him to first. Is like major with little smooches and will do it constantly. Until you give him one back. That makes him stop in a heartbeat. You found out his cheek is his weak-spot, one time you left a lipgloss stain and it drove him crazy. He loves loves loovvess your kisses and always craves them after a long day. They are like some type of reward. Every-time your soft lips find a way to his skin, ugh his heart aches. Will also give the sweetest and most passionate kisses ever. To a smooch, to colliding his tongue with yours.

L = Little ones (How are they around children? He pretends kids are annoying. Little does he know, you see the way he is with children himself. Hajime is a big kid at heart himself, you just have to push him to that limit. Though he will never ever admit it unless you bring it up first. Overtime he is no longer ashamed of it, he couldn’t hide it even if he attempted. End of discussion- Kashimo is such a sweet-pea with kids. To babies, toddlers, pre teens or even teenagers. (Off topic like extremely… but will ask for one sooner or later.)

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Not a morning person. Will sleep all day and stay up all night. You got him go change his schedule and ever since then he loves waking up to your beautiful face. If you’re not up by the time he is, which is usual because he wakes up early, he’ll rest you in his embrace and fall back to sleep. Once he learns how to cook he’ll serve you every like two times a week with breakfast. Will eat andd do your morning routine with you. (Skin care with him is so awesome :3) Loves nothing more than to spend nice and sunny mornings with you, It’s one of the best ways to start his day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Night owll!! Will always think of something to do with you before bed. Movie nights, make dinner or even just cuddle with you. Whatever you want to do. Due to having to battle constantly, he doesn’t get to spend too much time with his love. When he comes home late at night Kashimo uses time very wisely the moment he steps through your door. Sometimes you’re asleep by the time he arrives, so he just lays next to you comfortably. Would probably scare you in the morning but would also love to see how your face would light up.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It took him awhile to express whatever he would feel with you. It’s very rare to know how he feels, Hajime has to really trust you. When he gets to venting it’s like he’ll never stop. Like I said, you’re one of many people he’ll ever open up to. Hell you might be the only person that only ever hears what Kashimo truly feels. You can tell when Hajime is feeling down.. So when you mention it Kashimo just gives in and squirms like a big baby. He can get real emotional, you’ll see him cry once in a very blue bright neon moon. You (hopefully 👁️👁️.) reassure him it’s okay to feel that kind of way. Thats what he loves about you, knowing that you’ll always be there for him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Is inpatient. I’m not even gonna lie to you he can’t be patient if it saved his own life. With you though, thats a different story. He could be all day with you. You push the hell out his buttons sometimes, but he could never hate you so he just deals with it. He loves you so you can take your sweet time with him and he doesn’t care all that much. Hajime knows that you’re patient with him 24/7 so thats a way he could pay you back. It can even be a little challenging for him , due to having very little patience. At the end of the day he doesn’t mind. You’re lucky he loves you so much.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He will notice the smallest things about you. It’s almost everyday you catch him studying you like something special and sacred, you don’t even have to ask him to memorize numerous of things about you. Your appearance or things you like, you just in general are like an image he can’t get out of his head. Any thing about you is like a puzzle he can solve easily without even trying too hard. It is almost weird how well his memory can be. Not that you complain. Kashimo forgets nothing about you and will always please you when you’re bored with things you like to do. Or notice that you changed your hair or makeup. Will question it but doesn’t mind. Likes anything you like, and loves when you try something new.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Speaking of pleasing you when you’re bored. Sharing moments with you are so magical to him. Especially when doing something you enjoy, Hajime can’t get enough of how much fun you have when he takes you out. He doesn’t have a specific favorite scenario with you. Kashimo can’t choose which was his favorite. He does like watching the stars with you, the both of you do it quite often. Your eye sparkle like they are stars themselves. You’re such a beautiful view late a night. You are always glowing even in the darkest of times throughout the day.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Doesn’t care about himself. That has never been his concern. You come first, every single time. Would die for you, would kill for you. He can’t stand to see you hurt. With him around, you probably never have to worry about ever having the tiniest of scratches ever. Kashimo will go Limits beyond limits just to make sure you’re safe. Will drop everything he is doing just for you. He won’t keep you in a cage or anything, but is just cautious and afraid to lose you. It’s a dangerous world out there. Maybe will let you go out, all he asks is to not go alone and make sure it’s with someone he can trust. (Hajime is not trying to bother you. He just would hate to lose you or see you injured and would blame himself for eternity.)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Is so cute. Like the cutest. It’s the thought that counts with him. Hajime puts his heart into his efforts and you know he does. “I know it’s not perfect” Type guy. Really, you adore his little attempts on satisfying you. You can always just ask too, if you wanna be left alone the entire day, no problem. You want to stay with him all day and enjoy quality time together? No need to even ask twice. Is hard working already in general, he just doesn’t know when to quit when it comes to you. The outcome won’t always be the biggest or greatest but he tried. Kashimo appreciates you and will show you it even if it’s a little crappy. Gives you hand-made gifts. Thinks they’re cuter. In which, his paper flowers are always better than real ones in your eyes. Dates or anniversaries? Will take you both to your favorite spot, or wherever you want to go. If you want to lay on bed all day, go ahead. Won’t do a so great job on tidying up.. But again, it’s the thought that counts.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Hajime is stubborn, too stubborn for his own good and loves to fight. He has this thing with fighting and being victorious. You scold him about it constantly. Always searching for people stronger than him. It gets him hurt in the process, you don’t understand how he could be so addicted to it? Kashimo plays with fire constantly and its dangerous, life threatening. You know that he is strong. That means nothing less from him being a Mortal. You hate how he plays with his own life, it was just something regular for him? You get concerned sometimes and tell him to just stop. Knocking sense into his thick skull. It died down overtime, he only did it for you. But he’s so use to it he can’t even help himself. It never fully left and won’t be going anywhere but will try.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Between you two, he hates his hair. It gets in the way of battle. And how soft his face can look. It makes him look less intimidating. Thats pretty much it, he claims he doesn’t really care but you know it bothers him. You talk to him about it and you made him feel confident. (like vro you’re a pretty boy?) He doesn’t like talking about it because he thinks being insecure is just foolish, especially over ‘stupid’ things. But you also helped that you tell him how handsome he is and now he looks at himself with pride. You made him a lot more comfortable in his own skin. He smiles every-time he looks in his reflection, knowing you would praise his looks. Kashimo still asks himself how he got so lucky with someone like you.. But thats beside the point. He thanks you for making him feel better about his features.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Is miserable and hates being departed from you. He is still not used from being separated from you even when he is constantly away. Dealing with curses and who knows what. All he thinks of is you, if you’re okay, if you miss him like he misses you, the list goes on. Or even when you two get into arguments, he apologizes the very next day. All it takes him is a little less than twenty-four hours to see how vulnerable he truly is when you’re not with him. You’re his other half and it physically and mentally hurts him when you’re not there. Hajime cannot stand it, that feeling he gets when your company isn’t invading him. He knew it was dangerous but he would invite you to missions, missing you that much. It was always your decision. You never had to come if you didn’t want to.. Kashimo would just enjoy your support.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Is a total brat- like imagine him pouting when something doesn’t go his way. Acts all high mighty and stuff when all it took you was to snap your fingers and force him to behave. Putting him in his place, telling him that he acted like a child. Puts his head down in shame. (walk him like a dog sis) For sure has a little bratty attitude too, but just think of playing his little games with him. Fumbling him with no second thought as his pitifully goes silent. Kashimo doesn’t know if he hates it or likes it. The fact that you know how to work him when he starts acting all moody, it’s.. Interesting. He swears he can’t stand you sometimes. Hajime loves it. Or hates it.. He still doesn’t know. Knows for a fact he finds it quite pleasing. Thats for sure.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I can totally see Kashimo despising a cheater. Hajime hates when you talk to other people for a reason, that exact reason in-fact. You would break his heart and he would never forgive you. And I mean never. Thats what a relationship is for, he trusted you and you’re willing to do that like it’s nothing..? No thanks. Will not tolerate that one bit. It would break his heart but refuses to deal with that. If you’re willing to do it once what makes him look stupid enough to think you won’t do it twice. Or several times? Loses the trust right then and there. Nope- just absolutely not.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Needs to hold something, anything. Tosses and turns if something is not in his touch. As soon as you scotch to him and allow him to wrap his arm around you, he’s a rock. Still drools and snores or whatever but is stiff. You would think he is dead if you didn’t pay that much attention. You love snuggling with him, but the worse part about it is you’re stuck. Every movement you make he pulls you in closer and tighter. Not allowing you to go anywhere even when he is unconscious. You sadly have to punch him awake or something like that to wake him up. That would be your only escape. Groans and looks at you cluelessly with an eyebrow raised. Falls asleep not even thirty seconds later. You just sigh, he wakes up early so you just have to suffer a little bit longer.

idk if a sfw alphabet for our glorious princess exists. Glad to be the first person to it 🫦

i haven’t done kashimo in awhile lordie 😫. Anywayss im back and im alive luvs