#with liver failure complications

[jmflowers]

watching Carla Connor 2021 scenes and live texting about it to @lesbiangabriellle even though I’m 100% certain she’s asleep

good luck with all the messages of my completely unhinged thoughts when you wake up 🫡

[majorasnightmare]

halsin converting part of the camp into a drug lab to make hospital quality pain relievers like normally i wouldnt advise you to take these daily because it can cause liver inflammation and failure but tbh i think youve got bigger things going wrong in ur life

and dirges tadpole finally gets a 20 minute break from trying and failling to repress the nonstop high intensity pain signal and pulls dirge aside like you should kiss that elf sloppy style for this. being so fr with you

[mikewanders]

[mcntsee]

— ★ tomorrow

↳ summary: “I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for her face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

↳ warnings: hospitals, mentions of gunshot wounds, pain, regret, not proof-read. No use of “y/n”

↳ author’s note: This is fluff, I promise the end is really sweet! This is also inspired by different, random, pinterest quotes my friends sent me. Enjoy!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

No one enjoyed hospitals. The colors lacked vibrancy, the sounds became repetitive after a few minutes, the antiseptic smell was overpowering, the food tasted bland, and the anxious wait for news about a loved one was excruciating.

Unfortunately, the team was all too familiar with hospital waiting rooms, and even more unfortunate was their familiarity with being patients themselves.

Thankfully, the Federal Employees' Compensation Act provided some relief. Without it, they couldn't even begin to fathom the astronomical medical bills they'd be facing.

Tonight, however, finding themselves stuck in the uncomfortable chairs of the hospital waiting room had not been part of their plans.

The young genius's head throbbed relentlessly, a sensation he'd endured for weeks. The unimaginable pressure around his entire head, compounded with the bright light reflecting off the hospital's shiny white walls, the incessant beeping and the sounds of loved ones crying doing nothing other than intensify his discomfort.

The nurse they had bombarded with questions upon arrival had emerged not long ago to thankfully inform them that everything was alright. The surgery had gone well, and she was now in recovery. Soon enough, if they wished, they could stop by her new temporary room and visit her.

By now, most of the team had returned to the office. Hotch had been called back to work to tackle the pending files on their desks. Fortunately, he had allowed Rossi and Reid to remain behind. Ostensibly, their task was to update the team on her condition, but both of them understood that even if that hadn’t been necessary, there was no force on earth that could have budged Spencer from his spot, where he had been stationed for the last however many hours.

Spencer could feel David's gaze piercing through him. He wanted to snap at him, but he knew his current behavior had undoubtedly attracted more attention than just the older agent's. Clutching at his head, tugging on strands of hair intermittently, his leg bouncing up and down, with eyes tightly shut—his agitation was palpable.

“Kid, they said she’s alright. You need to relax.”

It was true, they had been told that, but it did little to reassure him. His mind raced through various worst-case scenarios. Her wound could become infected, or there might be undetected damage to internal organs. He fretted over potential complications like inflammation of the peritoneum, the formation of blood clots, or even damage to blood vessels leading to reduced blood flow to vital organs, potentially resulting in organ dysfunction or failure.

“The survival rate might seem high, but statistically speaking, complications can arise, even with the best medical care.”

“Spencer—“

“For instance, studies have shown that gunshot wounds to the abdomen carry a significant risk of infection, with rates as high as 20%. And there’s the possibility of peritonitis, which occurs in approximately 10% of cases.”

“Kid—“

“Organ damage is also a concern, particularly with injuries to vital organs like the liver or intestines. Even with the most advanced treatments—“

“Reid!”

For the first time since he sat down, his leg ceased its relentless movement. His hand, which had been tugging at the ends of his hair, relaxed and dropped to his lap, along with the hand he had been waving in the air to explain the statistics. His eyes unclenched, the worry in his brow disappearing as the rest of his facial muscles relaxed.

“What is going on, Spencer?”

The genius's eyes met the older agent's worried gaze with deliberate blinks, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights overhead while tuning out the cacophony of noise that surrounded them. “I just— I”

“I never told her and I— I don’t— “ His breathing was uneven, his words tumbling out faster than his mind could keep pace, his mouth struggling to articulate as his chest constricted with anxiety.

A gentle weight settled on his shoulder, its warmth grounding him as it gave a light shake, bringing him back to the present moment and prompting him to pause and take a breath.

“Rossi I- I devoted half my time since meeting her to loving her, only to spend the other half hiding it from her.”

With a sigh, the formerly retired agent settled down next to the much younger agent, his hands staying on the genius's shoulder as he shifted slightly to find a comfortable position.

Reid's gaze lingered on Rossi's face for a moment before he averted it, focusing instead on the bustling activity in the hallway where nurses and doctors hurried back and forth attending to patients.

“Every moment we shared, every laugh, every smile she graced me with, even in her unconscious gestures—“ His gaze returned to the hallway momentarily before lowering to where his hands rested on his knees. With a quick, almost imperceptible shake of his head, he cleared his throat. “Every time I looked at her, the words swelled in my throat. I longed to tell her how much she truly means to me, the happiness and peace she effortlessly brings into my world.”

“To tell her that I love her. That I have for a while now.”

David’s mouth opened, but before he could utter a word, Spencer's pointer finger shot up in the air, silencing any impending speech. It hovered there for a brief moment before his whole palm opened, effectively halting whatever words David had intended to say and then dropping back down to his lap.

“Every single time, I held back. I stopped myself from reaching out to her, from letting my true feelings spill out, from whispering all the things I desperately wished she knew.” His words cracked along with his voice as he, for the first time, admitted aloud feelings he had hidden for so long. “And with my heart pounding in my ears, I always just watched her, silently promising myself, ‘Tomorrow. I’ll tell her tomorrow.’”

“I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh that escaped his lips, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for the older man’s face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Spencer's admission hanging between them until the ringing of a phone shattered the stillness. With a sigh, Rossi reached into his pocket, retrieving the vibrating phone and glancing at the contact name.

“She’ll be okay, kid.”

With one final, reassuring squeeze to his shoulder, the older man rose to his feet, his knee cracking audibly as he turned to leave. Despite his efforts at reassurance, Spencer's profound anxiety remained largely unchanged.

He felt utterly helpless, his mind desperately grasping for solutions, for the comforting embrace of statistical analysis with its reassuring numbers. But instead, there was only silence. For the first time in his life, his mind was empty, devoid of answers, devoid of the usual cacophony of thoughts and calculations.

He couldn't recall the moment the nurse returned to inform him that he could visit her, nor did he remember following the nurse into the room and settling down beside her bed.

He cast restless glances around the room, his eyes darting from one piece of medical equipment to another, then flitting to the walls and ceiling. His gaze moved incessantly, pausing only briefly before moving on, taking in every detail. Except for her.

Alone in the quiet with her, he couldn't bring himself to meet her frame. To look at her now would make everything feel too real, and his heart was already heavy with pain.

His body felt like it was betraying him. Breathing became labored, thoughts fragmented, and the pain in his heart seemed insurmountable.

He wanted to tell someone— no, he wanted to tell her, but he knew she wouldn’t have a solution like she always did. So he sat there, his hands nervously tugging at strands of hair, eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming cacophony of beeping machines surrounding them.

His heart weighed heavily in his chest, burdened by the weight of pain, regret, and fear. It was a sensation he never wanted to experience again, a darkness that threatened to engulf him entirely.

Throughout the night, nurses came and went. Some spoke to him, gave him updates on her condition but he didn’t listen. He tried, he just couldn’t understand it.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, he reluctantly turned his gaze toward her bed. His eyes lingered on her hand, once so delicate and warm in his, now adorned with tubes and wires connecting her to different machines.

With a heavy sigh, his eyes remained fixed on her hand as he leaned forward, feeling the strain in his back from hours of immobility. With gentle care, he reached out and clasped her hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles over the back of it, mindful of the wires and tubes.

He remained still for a moment, relishing the warmth of her hand in his before allowing his gaze to travel up her arm, eyes tracing the patterns of the thin, cream-colored blanket that draped over her midsection when they got there. Then, his gaze shifted to her other arm, positioned protectively over her stomach where the wound lay, as if guarding it from further harm.

He studied the blue hospital gown draped over her body, its hue accentuating the sickly paleness of her skin. He traced every curve, every wrinkle, every wire, everything until his eyes finally met her bruised face.

She looked so peaceful and beautiful, devoid of worry. The furrows that typically marked her brow now absent, her closed eyes darting beneath her lids.

Tears welled in his eyes, the overwhelming emotions washing over him as he gazed upon her form. There was no smile, no gentle words escaping her lips, just a faintly parted mouth and serene countenance.

“Please wake up.” he whispered, his voice raspy from not being used in hours. “Please.” The desperation in his voice was evident in the way it cracked, in the way his chest tightened, in the way his throat constricted.

But she didn’t. Not for two weeks.

The medics reassured the team that she was showing positive signs and was going to be fine. They explained that in cases of severe internal bleeding within the abdominal cavity, it was common for patients to take longer to regain consciousness. "Sometimes, this can lead to hypovolemic shock and reduced blood flow to vital organs, including the brain," said the doctor they were currently questioning, one arm cradling a notepad against his chest while the other gestured towards her on the hospital bed, "which contributes to the prolonged unconsciousness she's experiencing."

Once the team's questions were answered, the doctor turned towards the door, his pen moving rapidly across the notepad as he scribbled something down. Upon reaching the door, he paused, pivoting back to face them. "While I can't predict the exact timeline for her awakening, I want to reassure you that we're doing everything we can to support her recovery." Tucking his pen back into his chest pocket, he scanned the room, meeting each person's gaze before lingering on on the genius’.

"Every individual responds differently to trauma and surgery, and it's not uncommon for patients to take some time to regain consciousness," he said, his tone gentle and reassuring, his kind smile directed at Spencer. "However, I want to emphasize that she's showing positive signs of progress, and her body is responding well to treatment. She should be waking up soon." With a final nod in the genius’ direction, he opened the door and disappeared into the flow of medical staff and patients outside her room.

The doctor's reassuring words and comforting demeanor provided Spencer with a small sense of relief.

As the days stretched on, nearing the two-week mark since her surgery, Spencer's exhaustion was becoming more evident. Dark circles underlined his eyes, his hair unkempt, and he felt the weight of fatigue settling into his bones. Sitting by her bedside day after day had taken its toll, leaving him feeling drained and with a sore backside.

It wasn’t until night, when he was alone with her again that he made a promise. “If you wake up tomorrow, I promise—“ He delicately released her hand, curling his fingers into a fist before extending his pinky finger to link with hers. “I pinky promise,” he whispered, a soft, trembling laugh escaping his lips as he recalled her insistence that a promise was only truly binding if sealed with a pinky. “If you wake up tomorrow, I’ll tell you everything.”

He had made up his mind days ago, swearing to himself that the moment she regained consciousness, he would lay everything bare. He hoped that verbalizing the promise would somehow penetrate her unconsciousness and draw her back to him.

As the night wore on and the room bathed in the soft glow of predawn, his senses awakened to a subtle movement near his head, his mind clouded with confusion as he remained still, trying to grasp his surroundings.

He found himself in a hazy state, unable to pinpoint the exact moment sleep had claimed him, yet the sensation of their linked pinkies lingered, his other hand placed gently on her leg, while his head rested on the bed.

It wasn’t until he felt his pinky being squeezed that Spencer’s senses sharpened, his back straightening with a crack as his eyes snapped into focus on her. The familiar furrow returned to her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut, her free hand instinctively reaching up to rub at her forehead.

His breath caught in his throat, his body frozen as he stared at her, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“Spence?”

Her voice was raspy, her tone confused as her eyes opened and scanned the room. Without hesitation, he rose from his seat, hands releasing hers as he hurried to the table with the water bottles. He swiftly grabbed one, unscrewing the cap as he returned to her side.

She struggled to lift herself up on her elbows, her eyes tracking his movements, fixated on the open water bottle as he presented it to her. With a gentle nod from her, he brought the bottle closer, tipping it carefully as it reached her parched lips, his other hand positioned beneath her chin, ready to catch any droplets that might escape.

After consuming almost half of the bottle, she gently pushed it away from her lips, taking a moment to swallow the last gulp before lying back down.

He remained in a state of shock, his mind racing faster than it had in weeks, attempting to process the moment as he observed her shifting, striving to find a comfortable position.

“Spence?”

“You—” he began, his words trailing off as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. “You are awake.”

At his words, a gentle smile, the one he had longed to see for weeks, graced her lips. She nodded in acknowledgment as she looked at him. Without hesitation, he moved forward, enveloping her in a tight embrace, being careful not to hurt her. "You're awake," he whispered softly, his face nuzzling into her neck.

He knew he was supposed to call a nurse in —something the staff had reminded him of repeatedly— , but in that moment, he couldn’t bear to let her go. So, he held her tighter, his arms enveloping her as if protecting her from everything, his hand gently cradling the back of her head, thumb tracing soothing circles as he drew her closer.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he released her from his embrace, his body reluctantly withdrawing from her warmth. His hands remained, tenderly cupping her face as he gazed into her eyes, memorizing every detail of her being.

"I have to tell you something," he whispered, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The familiar nerves and doubt flooded back, causing his heart to race so fast that he knew that if he had been the one hooked up to the machines, medics would have surely burst into the room thinking someone was having a heart attack.

He hesitated, his eyes lingering on her face, absorbing every detail illuminated by the gentle glow of the sun filtering into the room.

In his hesitation, his mind revisited every memory he shared with her. He recalled the moments he wanted to confess but held back, as well as his conversation with Rossi. Then, the memory of their pinky promise last night resurfaced, reminding him of his commitment. He couldn’t break a pinky promise.

“Spencer?”

“I love you.” There. He said it. His gaze lowered in fear of rejection, the nerves in his stomach growing, but he kept going, he had to. “I am so unimaginably in love with you.”

“Spencer—“

“No, I need—“ he paused, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, gazing still fixated downward as he cleared his throat from the imaginary knot that was beginning to form there. “I need you to know that every time you smile, every time you laugh, every time you talk to me, it’s like my whole world lights up.”

“And when you look at me, it’s like everything else fades away, and there’s just you.” With a deep inhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, colors swirling behind his eyelids from the pressure, before slowly exhaling and looking up to meet her gaze. “I can’t even scientifically explain how you make me feel. There is no book, or research article that explains what you make me feel.”

One of his hands left her face, gesturing through the air as he attempted to explain everything without the safety net of statistical knowledge. “Every time I’m near you, it’s like my heart speeds up so much that, scientifically speaking, I should be dead.” The quiet chuckle that escaped her lips reached his ears, easing the tight lines on his forehead as his lips formed into a gentle smile. “But it doesn’t matter, because being near you makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.”

“Every little thing you do, it just… it makes me fall more and more in love with you.”

“God, I’ve loved you for so long.” His hand halted its relentless movement and lowered to push the hair out of his eyes before running down his face with a grunt of frustration.

"I've fought multiple inner battles trying to tell you how I feel, only to back down at the last minute, silently promising myself that I would do it the next day."

Her eyes softened at his words, her lips pulling into a sad smile as his remained parted, eyes teary as they left her gaze and focused on his lap. “And then you got shot and I—“ The memories of everything that happened in the last two weeks rushing back to him. "I thought I had run out of next days.”

Her hand, which had been holding his against her cheek, shifted gently, cupping his cheek and wiping away the tear that had managed to escape his eyes.

With a sigh, he looked up to meet her eyes again, his own free hand coming up to hold the hand she now had on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his head resting against her hand as she rubbed soothing circles against the stubble that had appeared after weeks of not shaving. “I adore you.”

His face inched closer to hers, resting his forehead against hers. "I’m fine with whatever you want as long as I'm able to have you in my life," he whispered, his warm breath brushing against her skin. "I love you so, so much. Always." With that, their foreheads separated and his lips moved up to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

The room fell silent, his words hanging in the air as she processed them. After another second, Spencer moved, standing up and letting her know that he was going to go get a nurse before quickly disappearing.

The nurses flooded her room with warmth and care, each one exuding kindness as they attended to her needs, explaining her situation, answering questions, and expressing relief that she was recovering well.

Spencer stood patiently by the door, his shoulder leaning against the frame as he observed the nurses with gratitude, thanking them as they left after ensuring everything was in order.

As the last nurse made her way to the door, she slowed her footsteps, casting a reassuring smile at Spencer. “I told you she’d be alright, sweetheart,” she said with a gentle tone.

Marisa, the lovely old nurse, had not only been concerned about his best friend’s well-being but also his. The genius could confidently say that, had it not been for Marisa, he probably would’ve starved in that hospital chair.

She would often stop by during her morning shift, offering reassurance that she would be alright, often bending a few hospital rules to make Spencer more comfortable, providing him with the comfiest blankets, or allowing him to take showers in the bedroom’s bathroom so he wouldn’t have to leave her side.

She also insisted on him taking breaks to get some fresh air, eat proper meals, and change his clothes, assuring him that if anything happened, she would call him immediately.

With a comforting squeeze to his arm, the nurse left, closing the door gently behind her and leaving the two of them alone in the room.

As he settled back into the familiar chair, their eyes met once more, exchanging a silent understanding. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, relishing each other's presence. Eventually, Spencer broke the quietude. "I should call the team," he suggested softly.

He rose from the chair, his hand diving into his pocket to retrieve his phone. With his back turned to her, he scrolled through his contacts, his foot shifting slightly as he prepared to step away.

Before he could get far, his movements halted by the touch of her hand on his arm, he lowered his phone and turned back to her, meeting her gaze with curiosity. "Wait," she said softly. With a nod, he returned his phone to his pocket, yielding to her gentle tug until he found himself seated by her side on the bed.

A grunt of discomfort escaped her lips as she struggled to sit up, reaching out for his hand for support. Once she was upright, she shifted closer to him. “What are- oomf—“ before he could finish, his question was cut off by the sudden press of her lips against his, her hands gripping the back of his head.

His body momentarily stiffened, eyes widening in surprise as he tried to process what was happening. When it finally clicked, the initial shock turned into a gentle surrender as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by the warmth of her lips against his.

With a soft exhale, his hand instinctively rose to caress her cheek, pulling her face even closer to his and deepening the kiss.

If he had ever believed his heart couldn’t beat any faster than when in her presence, he stood corrected. Now, he was certain he was experiencing a heart attack.

His lips moved against hers so perfectly, as if they had kissed a thousand times before, as if their souls recognized each other instantly.

It was perfect, not because it was flawless, but because it felt so real.

He never wanted to stop; her lips were addicting, but when his lungs screamed at him for air, he reluctantly pulled his lips away from hers, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

His head jerked back, eyes wide open as he looked at her, scanning her expression, looking for any hint that she was lying, only to find honesty shining through her eyes.

With a laugh, she took his face back in her hands, pulling him closer and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You have, and will always be the one my heart searches for in a world full of everyone else.”

With a toothy smile, he pulled her lips back to his, chuckling inwardly, as their lips met, acknowledging that if he thought he reached the peak before, he was mistaken again. His heart was racing faster than ever before. A heart attack of a different kind.

A heart attack that he’d gladly experience a million times more.

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 13: Make A Wish

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 7307 words. (long boi)

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

You were running out of time, less than two weeks to accomplish the task Sukuna had given you and you still doubted if you could do it. You sat up in bed as you watched the sunlight stream through the window, heralding the arrival of a new day, jumped out of bed to get to the dresser, opened the top drawer, and there it was. A small glass jar containing the favor you had asked Kenjaku for on the day of the harvest. You carefully examined the whitish mushrooms with brown caps. 

Amanita phalloides, the most deadly mushroom for humans. From what you had read in one of the giant encyclopedias in the library, it has caused the death of numerous people by being very similar to some mushrooms that are edible. The toxins in this mushroom act on the liver and kidneys, resulting in liver failure. You could serve it to your victim in a mushroom omelet and the poisonous mushroom would take care of the rest. All you had to do was the hardest part, pick a victim. 

It had to be a human, so Kenjaku and the rest of the curses didn't enter into the equation. Not being strong enough, it couldn't be someone with a cursed technique. That's how you ruled out Uraume and Yorozu. Whichever way you looked at it, your target had to be a servant. You couldn't kill Mrs. Inoue, you saw her as if she was your tender grandmother who worries that you eat well so that you grow up a lot. You could never betray her friendship for the sake of the king. 

“What do I do?” you asked yourself anxiously, putting the jar back in its place. 

You entered the dining room promptly as you did every morning for breakfast. You wished the servants good morning along with a smile. Now, it was harder for you to choose who to kill, as they had all been so kind to you over the past few weeks. They greeted you, chatted with you about their lives outside the castle, and looked out for you. The vast majority of servants saw you as just another fellow servant who was there because of a terrible fate, rather than a figure to be feared. You felt like a hypocrite greeting them when inside you knew the terrible fate you had planned for an unfortunate man. As soon as they knew you killed one of them, you could not restore their trust in you. You approached your designated place and were surprised to see that Mrs. Inoue was the one in charge of your chair. 

“Happy birthday, Miss,” she congratulated you with a smile.

“Oh, you remembered! Thank you!” You said before hugging her gently. 

You had spent so much time worrying about studying, taking care of your sister and choosing who you were going to kill that you had forgotten your own birthday. The days passed quickly between your responsibilities. Wake up, study, train, sleep, repeat. A vicious cycle filled with anxiety, insecurity and effort. Life at the castle really was complicated, but there were good parts. It was nice to know that someone cared enough to remember this special date.

Sukuna arched his brow at how tightly you hugged the lady. He didn't understand why they were making a fuss about the anniversary of your arrival in this horrible world. He doesn't remember how he came to this world. His earliest recollection was opening his eyes and being thirsty for human blood. From the moment he stepped onto this existential plane, he knew he had a greater purpose than being a mere man-eating curse. Birthdays don't matter when greatness is waiting. 

“Today is your birthday?” Sukuna asked you curiously as soon as you sat down at the table. You nodded excitedly. “Why didn't you tell me? If your birthday was so important, why didn't you let him know?”

“You never asked,” you replied. “Touche” he thought before taking his glass of wine. “Yorozu hasn't shown up yet?” You asked him while examining the room.

For the past month, Yorozu has not left his master's side even for a moment. She accompanied him when he did paperwork in his office, they trained together until sunset and followed him everywhere like a puppy obedient to its mother. So much so that the servants began to call her: “the dirt on the king's fingernail” or, as her friends call her, “the dirt”. It was rare that she was not present as soon as you entered the room. 

Sukuna was about to answer when a shrill voice started singing happy birthday. Yorozu kicked open the kitchen door to reveal the surprise she had planned for you. Your sister was singing at the top of her lungs, while Uraume held a small strawberry and cream cake with some lit candles. They didn't seem too happy about being part of the plan. 

“Happy birthday, dear sister!” She sang off-key. 

This brought back memories. Yorozu did the same thing every year. She would bake you a cake or something sweet from whatever was in the cabin cupboards, light a couple of candles and parade around the room you shared at 5 a.m. while crowing like a rooster. Your mother and sisters would yell at her to shut up while throwing pillows at her, but she never stopped crowing. It was annoying, but something about it seemed tender. Yorozu always wanted to make sure she was the first to wish you a happy birthday. 

“Did you bake it?” You asked Uraume when they placed the cake in front of you. 

“Only because your sister asked me to,” Uraume answered reluctantly. 

The strawberry and cream cake was a masterpiece of pastry making. Each fluffy layer of sponge cake bathed in a soft syrup that gave off a sweet and delicate aroma. The freckled fruits, fresh and juicy, rested elegantly on top of the cream. Its vibrant red color stood out against the white background and the silver platter in which it was served. At the top, perched the largest strawberry you had ever seen in your life. It made your mouth water just looking at it. Your sister knew you so well.

“Thank you, Uraume,” you said as you admired the delicious dessert in front of you. 

“Make a wish,” Yorozu excitedly proposed as she sat down next to you.

What did you really wish for? Just like your birthday, you had forgotten what you really wanted. You wished for your family to be well, not to be killed and to eat good food, but those are not really wishes, they are priorities. What was it that your heart really longed for? You had been at the mercy of other people for so long that you began to forget who you were. Your empty eyes gazed at the small flames dancing on the white candles, slowly melting around the edge as you experienced an existential crisis. Time was running out. What were you doing?

“Sis?” Yorozu called you worried. 

You blinked and focused back on reality again. The king to your left, your sister to your right and all the servants around you were looking at you worriedly. You coughed a couple of times to regain your posture and blew out the candles quickly. Everyone applauded you while you forced a smile as if nothing had happened. 

“What did you ask for, sis?” Yorozu asked you while a servant cut the cake to serve it to those at the table. 

“If I say so, it will not come true,” you excused yourself so as not to reveal that you had not ordered anything. 

The servant handed you a slice of cake with the biggest strawberry of the cake, you smiled cheek to cheek at the kind gesture. You were about to take it with your fork, but someone beat you to it. Yorozu snatched the strawberry with her hands and put it in her mouth without a care in the world. She chewed happily while looking at you with a mischievous smile. Despite being in the body of an adult, she still acted like a child. The servant, annoyed at the scene, placed two strawberries on top of your slice. 

Sukuna knew something was happening to you. He didn't know exactly what, but he recognized that expression anywhere. Nervous smile, watchful eyes and anxious hands. The signs couldn't have been clearer. You were uncomfortable. It was the expression all servants made when they saw him up close. He drank his glass of wine while you ate your cake without saying a word, while Yorozu chattered incessantly. It was odd that you were acting like that.

You stared intently at the blackboard with the double-digit numbers and letters to be solved. “Since when did math have letters?” you mentally grumbled as you paced back and forth across the library without taking your eyes off the wooden rectangle. After that archery lesson, King Sukuna ordered Kenjaku to continue the research he had been asking him to do for months. In the last few weeks, your teacher would leave you the lessons written on long scrolls or on the blackboard to focus on his new task from the darkness of his room. Sometimes you missed the company of a teacher, but the peace of solitude was fine too. The heavy door opened slowly, revealing Mrs. Inoue's head, asking if you were too busy. A smile crept onto your face as soon as you saw the colorful desserts on the golden tray. 

“Mrs. Inoue, what a miracle!” You greeted her by taking the tray from her hands so she could take a break. 

“I had to visit you on your special day. I had to visit you on your special day,” she answered as you handed her a chair to sit on. “The desserts and the card are from everyone.” 

The gold tray glistened in the dim light coming from the window. The small desserts were displayed with a precision that bordered on the artistic, denoting the creativity of the servants who were in charge of the kitchen. Small fruit tarts, a cup of chocolate mousse and tiny macaroons glistened with color in the dim light coming from the window. 

The gold tray glistened in the dim light coming from the window. The small desserts were displayed with a precision that bordered on the artistic, denoting the creativity of the servants who were in charge of the kitchen. Small fruit tarts, a cup of chocolate mousse and tiny macaroons glowed with color.

“How is everyone?” You asked worriedly as she checked the small card that was signed by all 53 servants.

“Well, what can I tell you? These last months of winter are the coldest in the dungeon. Do you remember the time when we had to sleep together to avoid hypothermia?”

The dungeon was the main cause of illness from the low temperatures that came with the season, muscle atrophy from the uncomfortable beds and broken bones from the old men falling out of the giant bunks. You were saddened to know that the situation hadn't changed at all since you stopped being a maid. You felt guilty that you were able to sleep in a comfortable bed in a heated room when several old people were sleeping in the worst possible place. The only thing that pitied your remorse was that they were safe from the clutches of curses during the dangerous night. 

“How many have fallen ill?” You asked as you looked back at the blackboard. 

You knew exactly why you were asking.  Partly it was because you did care about the servants, but you also wanted Mrs. Inoue to give you a victim to kill soon. 

“3. Less than last year,” Mrs. Inoue replied optimistically. 

You have influenced her way of thinking for months now. Even though they lived in constant fear of dying, it was better to make the most of the days alive because it was the only thing they could do. 

“Who is the worst off?” you asked. 

You prayed inwardly that he wouldn't ask you why you were asking that. Just as you were about to answer, the door slammed open again. Mrs. Inoue stood up in panic thinking it was the king or Uraume, but it was only Yorozu with a wide smile as always. 

“You're studying on your birthday!” She scolded you, offended by the sight. “Let's go practice archery like last time!” She proposed while running towards you furiously.

“I can't. I must solve these problems,” you answered. 

“Then solve them," Yorozu answered with a certain obviousness as if it hadn't occurred to you before. 

“It's not that easy,” you sighed. 

Yorozu grumbled when you looked back at the board. It wasn't fair that you were doing something so boring on your special day. You should be having fun with it. You took one of the mini fruit tarts from the tray and ate it in one bite. Quickly, he noticed Mrs. Inoue's presence. 

“Long time no see! How are you doing? Getting older every day, aren't ya?” Yorozu joked. 

“Yorozu!” You scolded her while writing something on the blackboard. “Be nice to the lady.”

“It seems they didn't teach you any manners at home, child,” the lady grumbled in annoyance. 

“What did she say?” Yorozu asked, offended. she reached over and pulled her ashen hair. “Say it again, old woman,” she challenged her. 

You looked back as you heard the lady's moan of pain. You couldn't believe what Yorozu was doing. You knew she was a troublemaker, but you never thought she would get that angry with a lady three times her age. Yorozu's hand was turning red from the pressure she was exerting, but the lady was not going to bend easily. After all, she suffered worse humiliations from the king and Uraume. You clenched your fist and lunged at your sister to punch her in the face to get her to let go, but she blocked your blow with her arm covered in glowing green armor. Your fist hit so hard that a certain part of the armor shattered, but it still hurt you more than it hurt her. 

“Don't you think my new armor made of beetle skin is cool? Although it looks like I need to perfect it,” Yorozu said excitedly before releasing the lady. 

“Apologize. Now,” you challenged her while holding your injured hand. 

“Are you really defending the old lady?” Your sister asked you in surprise. 

You only answered her with a knockout look. It was one of the few times she saw you upset. Seeing you as a second mother after the biological one, she knew she shouldn't bother you anymore if you were already angry. She undid her armor to return her posture to the lady. 

“Well, well...” She reluctantly surrendered. “I'm sorry she's so old.” 

“Yorozu!” 

“I was only joking. I'm sorry.” Finally, she apologized to your friend. 

“Aren't you supposed to be training?” You asked annoyed.

“Are you kicking me out?” Yorozu returned the question offended. 

“Yes,” you answered seriously. 

“Oh how boring…” She huffed in annoyance before walking quickly out of the room while complaining to herself. 

As soon as she was out of your sight, you collapsed into the chair next to Mrs. Inoue. The fist you hit her with stung against your other hand wrapped around her. You grabbed a macaron to eat it to calm the adrenaline rushing through your body. You couldn't believe what had just happened. It wasn't the first time you had hit your sister, but this time it felt personal. 

“What am I going to do with this girl?” You asked Mrs. Inoue rhetorically as you grabbed your forehead. 

“Thank you for defending me, but the truth is I didn't want to tell you this because she is your family, but... May I get this off my chest?” You looked at her curiously, wondering what she had kept so much to herself. “Your sister is a real bitch. She's rude, useless and stupid. She's a real pain in the ass. A fucking bitchy little bitch that nobody wants. I hope she eats a hill so she won't hear her bark. She thinks she's a good dick just because she has the king's permission...”

You only listened to her complain about how scandalous her snoring was, how rude she was to the servants and how much she talked about King Sukuna as if he were God himself. You knew Yorozu's behavior was bad, but it seemed to have gotten worse after the discovery of her powers and would only get worse as time went on. She was a barking bitch, but at some point she would bite back. 

“And you know what angers me the most?! How dare she take your strawberries?!” The lady complained. 

“She always does. I have always shared with him what is mine,” you tried to justify her on the only thing you could defend her on. 

“But that doesn't make it right,” she argued back. 

“It's my fault she's like that.” It was also your mother's fault that she was like that, but you never corrected her.

“Be that as it may. Let me give you some advice.” The lady interrupted you to stop excusing your sister's shitty attitude as she got up from her seat to face you, making sure you paid attention to her. “I may not know much about royalty, but what I do know is that if you're going to make a queen, you should learn to stand up for what's yours.” Leaving you with the word in your mouth, she wished you a happy birthday and walked out of your sight. 

You took another macaron to relax your posture on the chair and look at the ceiling of the library. You ate it slowly while admiring the splendid painting depicting a reddish sky and grayish summer clouds. You swallowed the viscous mixture of jelly and wafer before dropping your hands to your sides. “Fucking hell, Yorozu,” you thought. 

Sukuna was up to his neck in paperwork, so much so that he had to send Yorozu to practice on his own for the day. Document after document. Report after report. Sukuna loved being a king, but this was the part he hated the most. After finishing reading a mining production report, he put it away in the file cabinet and leaned back on the leather chair. He held his forehead to rest his eyes. He was sick of reading. A couple of knocks on the door woke him from his brief pause. He ordered with an annoyed grunt to the person behind the door revealed itself. Kenjaku bowed and approached the desk. 

“You'd better have moved on with your investigation,” Sukuna threatened him. “He's in a bad mood today,” the minor curse thought.

"Of course. It's the only thing I've done in the last two weeks,” Kenjaku said wryly behind a smile. “I have good news.”

“And what are you waiting to tell them?” The king grumbled.

“Since you are the reincarnation of a sorcerer, you have almost human genetics.” 

“Almost?” Sukuna arched his eyebrow.

“Humans don't have four arms and two penises, my king.” Kenjaku replied. “Your double genitalia are what makes it difficult to know if the conception will be effective or not.” 

“And how will you find that out?” Sukuna asked, trying to understand what he was talking about. 

“The only way we can know is by empirical research,” Kenjaku replied. 

“Empirical research, huh?” The king tasted the words in his mouth in confusion. 

“You know what I mean, don't you?” Kenjaku quickly deduced that his boss was not keeping up with the conversation. 

“Not at all,” Sukuna answered honestly. 

“Coitus,” Kenjaku replied. The older curse looked at him with no fucking idea what he was talking about. “Sex?” The master asked. There was no reaction. “The devil’s tango?” He tried a more vulgar version of the concept. Nothing. “Do you know how humans reproduce?” Sukuna shrugged.

This was worse than he imagined, but it didn't surprise him in the least. Sukuna should remember almost nothing of his past life as a sorcerer. Besides, he has been murdering and eating humans for as long as he can remember in his entire life, so he knows a lot about them. As a hunter he knows hares and deer to stalk, but not enough to understand them. He knows how they act under stress, sadness and life and death situations. Now, Sukuna was to learn about one of the greatest causes of joy for humans: reproduction. 

“Human reproduction is complicated.” Kenjaku mentally prepared himself to give a lesson to the ignorant king. “It is divided into many phases, but we will focus for now on the first one: the sexual act.”

“Just tell me what to do and I will do it,” the king ordered him to get to the point.

 “It's not that simple and even less so if it's you,” Kenjaku joked to himself.

“There is nothing I can't do,” Sukuna threatened him with the look that he was losing his patience. 

“I don't doubt it, my king, but it will be difficult to go from causing pain to pleasure,” he explained. 

“Pleasure? That's a waste of time. I just want an heir,” Sukuna scoffed. 

“If you want an heir so badly, you must give y/n pleasure,” the teacher explained. 

Now that would be tricky. The only pleasure Sukuna knew was terrorizing and killing people. It was the reason he woke up every day. He doubted it would even cause you to smile since you cared so much about others. Every time you saw him it was the same anguished and timid face as always. Like you were walking through eggshells every time you saw him. 

“Luckily, I got ahead of this problem,” Kenjaku said. “I took the liberty of choosing some novels that illustrate what he must do to satisfy the lady and conceive a seed,” he announced while handing her a couple of books marked with dividers indicating what she had to read. “If you still have questions, I will answer them in the morning.”

“Do you plan for me to read all of this by tomorrow?” Sukuna asked him while going through the books. 

“What, you can't?” Kenjaku asked sarcastically, knowing it would hurt the king's ego. In the blink of an eye, Sukuna cut Kenjaku's cheek with his technique. “That's my cue to leave,” he said with a bow to get out of her sight as soon as possible.

“Wait,” he ordered him, stopping the master suddenly. “Do you know if Mahito is busy?” Now it was Kenjaku who arched his eyebrow.

You were brushing your hair in front of the dressing table. The red moon was seeping through one of the holes in the rose window. You had put on a pink nightgown that matched your fuzzy slippers. Bedtime was approaching, along with the night's anxiety. You still had no clear target for your assassination, but at least you knew that one of the servants would naturally die soon. That calmed your worries about choosing a victim, but the anxiety of having to kill someone was getting the better of you. 

The door abruptly opened. You jumped out of your seat and grabbed the golden comb like a boomerang, ready to throw it in case it was a surprise attack. You were reassured to see that it was only Yorozu, who was laughing hysterically at your frightened reaction. 

“You should see your face, you look like you've seen a ghost!” He scoffed as he jumped onto your bed. 

“What are you doing here? You know it's curfew.” You asked worriedly. Uraume would cheat her if she found out I was in your room. 

“Are you kicking me out again?” I already apologized to the old lady. We are already the best friends in the world,” you really doubted it after hearing how Mrs. Inoue had expressed herself about her. 

“I just want you to know that even though we have more privileges than the servants, we still work for the king so we must obey his rules,” you explained gently as you sat down next to her. 

“Nah, we are not equal,” Yorozu said proudly. 

“We are humans, just like all the servants,” you shook your head. 

“No, you are equal to all humans. I, on the other hand, am superior to all humans,” your sister answered stubbornly. 

“But the king will only use you like all of us.” You told her in frustration. “Don't you see? If it weren't for your powers, you would have died by now.” Clearly, you were worried about her. 

“You don't know that,” Yorozu pouted at you. 

“I've seen the king kill people just for looking them in the eye without their permission. He's a bloody tyrant.” You grabbed her by the shoulders in an attempt to talk some sense into her.

“Do you hate him that much?” Yorozu asked you, in an attempt to change the conversation. 

“It's complicated,” you answered with a sigh. 

“Then why don't you give me your job?”

“What?” You asked dumbfounded. 

“Just think about it. You don't want to marry him. He seems interested in me for his personal use. I have everything it takes to be a queen. It's a win-win,” your sister explained as if it was the best plan in the world.

“I don't think you realize you're missing out on all this. King Sukuna may be acting gentle, but he's a cold-blooded killer. One wrong step and you're dead. Do you really want to die like that?” You were trying to talk sense into her at all costs, but she just wouldn't try. 

“If it's at the hands of the king, yes,” she replied. 

“You're crazy,” you whispered in disbelief at how foolish she was before you let her go. Where had it all gone wrong? “Just answer me something. Would you kill for him?” You asked her, begging her with your eyes to say “no”. 

“All the men he asks me to,” you recoiled in defeat, but a new feeling of justice grew in you. 

After hearing what Mrs. Inoue had to say and from what your sister herself was making clear to you, you now had a wish you wanted to fulfill. No matter what. Yorozu wouldn't be Sukuna's queen. If the king was already a horrible tyrant, then her as his queen would only make things worse. If you were the queen, some would die. If your younger sister was the queen, thousands would die. You were sure of that. You couldn't let her become a tyrant.

“Wow, you really love him, don't you?” You asked with a smile.

“That's right! The king is so strong, big, rich, and handsome. I love him and I want him to be mine, but I need your help,” Yorozu asked you with a pout.

“Tell me and I'll do it,” you replied.

“Tell him about me. Tell him that I'm a better candidate for queen than you and that I'll be the happiest girl in the world if he looks in my direction. If you do, I promise I'll give you the best life in the world.” You already knew that speech by heart. It was the same silly speech she told your mother to buy her a new dress with the few savings she had. Only you weren't stupid enough to fall for her empty promises.

"How about I tell her now?" You proposed excitedly.

"Really? Would you do that for me?" Yorozu replied.

"Of course. I owe you for hitting you," you told her remorsefully. "Just stay here. I'll take care of everything." You forced her to sit on your bed.

"You're the best!" Yorozu exclaimed as she clapped her hands proud of you.

"It didn't take long!" You said with a smile before closing the door.

The fake smile disappeared as you walked through the dark hallways with determination towards your king's room. You walked stealthily to avoid attracting the attention of Uraume or any of the curses that guarded the halls in case of a surprise invasion. Now you had a clear objective. Prevent Yorozu from becoming a queen at all costs.

The count opened the door with his heart in his hand. She must be the only person he expected to see under the beauty of midnight. It was her, his beautiful beloved wrapped in pink lace. His lips pounced on her with the force of a desperate hurricane. They couldn't waste a second of this spontaneous encounter away from everyone. He unwrapped her like a birthday present and laid her down on the bed. He was going to make love to her as if this were the last night he would be alive.

"So love is made?" Sukuna wondered as he read Letters of Passion. One of the novels that Kenjaku had asked him to read so he could learn about sex. He read in the comfort of the armchair that faced directly in front of the lit fireplace. The small crackles of the fire against the wood were the only things that accompanied him on this cold night, along with the hundreds of golden artifacts that shone from the warmth of the flames excited by the fuel. Now he understood why Kenjaku had told him to let him know his doubts in the morning. He wasn't understanding anything he was reading. Sukuna has always been a direct and initiative-taking being, he just wanted to leave his seed and that's it. Why waste time on kisses, caresses and hugs? Kenjaku had told him that he should do it for you, but he doubted that you would want him to do something like that. Surely you also wanted him to finish quickly. You weren't the enamored count and his beloved, you were just a monster and a slave. He licked his finger to turn the page, but a familiar voice distracted him.

“My king, are you awake?” You asked from the other side of the door.

Sukuna opened the door, finding you in pink pajamas. He was going to ask you what you were doing in his chambers after the clear curfew hour, but he ended up hyper-focusing on the lace that delicately decorated your chest. “Like in the book,” he thought in surprise. “Choosing some novels that illustrate what he should do with the young lady,” Kenjaku quoted in his mind. Was this how it all started?

“I’m sorry to bother you late at night, but…” Your words were interrupted by your king’s lips against yours.

In a kind of surprise attack, Sukuna bent down to your level to kiss you softly on the lips. If this was how he was supposed to do it, he might as well take advantage of it. Even though he was on the right track, he was missing one detail: that you wanted to kiss him too. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt the gentle attack against your person. Your first reaction was to step back, but Sukuna quickly grabbed your waist to stop you from escaping. His four eyes stared back at you before deepening the kiss. You had no choice but to play along with your tongue as your mind searched for answers. “What does he think he’s doing?!” you thought in panic as his kisses moved in accordance with the rhythm he had set. “Did the king steal my first kiss?!”

Kissing the king felt like you were committing the worst of crimes, but you slowly got used to it like an acquired taste. He was fierce but kind, like the calm in the middle of the terrible storm. After a few seconds of special tasting, you realized something. “Wait, this is perfect for Yorozu not becoming queen!” you thought before closing your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the passionate act. Your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him just as close, melting into the warmth of the approach in an attempt to coax him in your own way.

It was strange. Too strange. Why were you closing your eyes? Why were you hugging him? Were you really enjoying it? Is this how it should be? Sukuna had no idea what he was doing, but he was enjoying it. He knew you would reciprocate, but surely it was because you would do anything for him. Your lips were juicy and sweet, it must have been because of all the desserts you had consumed during the day. If he concentrated he could guess the taste of the macaron you had eaten after dinner.

As the novel dictated, he carried you by the thighs with ease to get you into the room without breaking the kiss that slowly became wilder. He laid you down on the bed gently to take possession of your body. You knew so well that he didn't seem to want to stop anytime soon. You were so gentle with him even though he deserved to be punished for his multiple genocides. With his lower hands, he took your pajamas and lifted them up to show your naked body. "Are we really going to do this?" you thought worriedly as you closed your legs feeling the wetness in your crotch.

Sukuna threw the pajamas on the armchair where he was sitting and broke the kiss to admire you beneath him. Your leg over the other, your hands covering your breasts shyly and your cheeks flushed, was something he hadn't seen since the last time you showered together. You were very nervous, more than other times. Your lips were parted and shone against the firelight from the saliva you had exchanged. You looked beautiful, but there was a small problem.

“Is something wrong, my king?” You asked him worried when you saw that he just looked at you without doing anything else.

“I don't know what to do now,” he admitted.

“Excuse me?”

Sukuna stood up to take the book he was reading and throw it at you. You sat on the bed confused to try to figure out what was going on. You looked at the king and then at the suggestive title of the novel he had given you. You opened the book to the passage he was reading and immediately blushed. “I just acted out what was happening in the book” you concluded before slamming the book shut.

“Kenjaku told me to do it,” Sukuna explained. “Kenjaku?!” you thought astonished. “Love is made?” He asked you directly as if they were casually chatting and you weren't completely naked. Sukuna really was a strange curse.

With that question you could deduce what was going on. Sukuna wants an heir, but he doesn’t know how to get one. So, he sent Kenjaku to investigate and gave him an erotic novel so he could understand. “Why didn’t they ask me before?” you thought as you covered your uncomfortable nakedness with your arms.

“Something like that…” you answered. “Love must already exist for it to happen. Making love is a mere literary expression that refers to sex.”

“Damn! Everyone keeps repeating that word, but I don’t know what that is!” Sukuna complained.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his ignorance. You had always seen Sukuna as a powerful curse that knows everything. Seeing him so frustrated at not being able to understand a subject so simple for you made you laugh a little. “Wait, does this mean that the king is a virgin too?”

“You know what it means, don’t you?” He asked you directly. You nodded shyly.

You knew what sex was thanks to the education your mother gave you, but you knew how to do it thanks to the friends Yorozu made at the balls. They always talk about the gorgeous knights and what they wanted to do to them in such detail that sometimes they surprised you at how graphic and vulgar they could be.

“You owe me a favor for saving your sister at the harvest,” Sukuna reminded you. You had already forgotten that detail. “Teach me what sex is.”

“That means you want to make your heir… Now?” You asked him confused.

“What?!” The king was really lost. He had many questions and almost no answers.

Not expecting that reaction, you burst out laughing. You were laughing. You were laughing with him. It had never occurred to him that he could hear you having fun so close. It was as if you weren't afraid of his reaction for making fun of him. You were treating him like he was just another human. He blushed when he realized that he was surely acting like a lunatic in front of you.

“Let me explain,” you took his hand to sit him on the bed next to you. He obeyed your guidance. “Just pay attention”

You explained to him how sexual relations worked, the difference between the types of sex and how vaginal penetration is the only way to achieve conception. Sukuna listened intently as you explained everything to him as if he were an innocent 12-year-old boy. Then, you explained how pregnancy works. That was the easiest part to explain, since you had seen your mother get pregnant twice. The king nodded at everything you said as a sign that he was paying attention to you.

“Wow, it’s more complicated than I thought,” Sukuna said when you finished your master class.

“You just have to worry about the conception part, I’ll take care of the rest, my king,” you explained.

“No, I have to make sure you and the baby are okay,” he said before rubbing your bare stomach as if there was already a baby there. “Let me worry about it.”

Your cheeks turned red at those words. You really thought the king would leave you alone once conception had taken place like many families did. After all, Sukuna was a very busy king so it wouldn’t surprise you, but you had misjudged him.

“Thank you, my king,” you told him before kissing his cheek softly.

You smiled genuinely at him and he tried to return the gesture, but he only showed his teeth like a dog trying to smile. You laughed at how silly he looked and shook your head to stop him from doing it. You and Sukuna sat on the edge of the bed in silence for a while while you watched the small bonfire. The heat was so much that it didn't bother you to be naked, but it was better to look for your clothes before you caught a cold. You got out of bed to look for the nightgown that the king had taken from you.

"And by the way, what are you doing here at this hour?" Sukuna asked you to remember the time it was. "Ah, that's right, I came to tell him something."

"I wanted to ask him to stop training Yorozu for a while," you asked the king, starting the operation: "Yorozu can't be queen."

"Excuse me?"

"I understand that she is a sorceress that can be used for future battles and protection, but her attitude has worsened since she arrived at the castle and it makes everyone uncomfortable," you explained. “It bothers everyone in the service, even Uraume.”

“I know that,” he answered. “Uraume had never given me a service report as bad as your sister's”

He remembers the day Uraume left the report on his desk like every two weeks. Even though her face was monotonous as always, he knew from her attitude that she had left him a bomb in the form of words. She had dedicated herself to writing three pages explaining what a terrible servant Yorozu was and why she should kill her soon. She had a headache just from resisting the urge to kill her for your sake.

“Even though we are both adults, I am still her older sister, so it is my duty to discipline her.”

“And what does this have to do with training?” Sukuna asked.

“She sees training with you as a reward, it is fun because she can tempt you to her liking and that must stop. She must learn how to behave around you. What good is a powerful weapon if it's going to act under its own regime?” You knew that wasn't the reason you didn't want me to stop training with him, but if you wanted the king to be on your side, you had to give him his side. “Plus, it'll give me the chance to practice how to deal with a rebellious child once I become a mother.” You also had to infantilize Yorozu as much as possible so that the king wouldn't see her as a possible candidate for queen.

“Okay. I'll stop training her until I see that her attitude has changed.” Sukuna accepted your notion. Maybe too quickly, since you thought he would fight a little harder because he wanted to make his new weapon more powerful as soon as possible, but it had worked. “Check” you thought, avoiding a smile to prevent the king from seeing your true intentions.

“Thank you, my king,” you thanked him with a bow. “That would be all. I'm leaving to let you rest.” You turned around to go back the way you came, but Sukuna grabbed your arm. You looked at him confused as he stopped you.

“It’s curfew. If Uraume or some curse sees you in the hallways, they have the right to eat you alive.” You gasped, you didn’t know that was the reason for the curfew. “You’ll stay with me tonight,” he ordered.

Sukuna pulled you by the arm to get you into bed. He carefully tucked you in next to him so you were as warm as possible. You had known each other for so long that you felt comfortable with the idea of ​​sleeping next to him. Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you watched him settle into the large pillows. His skin glowed orange from the fireplace, while he combed his pink hair back, causing his muscles to flex in front of you. “I can’t believe this king was my first kiss” you thought before turning around so he wouldn’t notice your blush.

It had been a while since you slept with him, but this time was different. Before, you were just a servant who only obeyed his orders to the letter and trembled just by looking at him. Sukuna had only slept with you because he saw you as a sleepy pet, but now you felt like he really wanted to sleep with his future wife. You felt Sukuna’s arms snake over your body like that time to catch you by the waist and shoulders. He pressed you against his body while you felt his heavy breathing in your ear. If only he knew that this was the only thing he had to do to give you pleasure.

“My king,” you called him in a whisper.

“What?” he asked you as he closed his eyes.

“Do you have feelings for me?” you asked him curiously.

“Like what feelings?” he asked back.

You smiled and closed your eyes to drift off to sleep. You didn't know why you had asked now, but it confirmed that he had no feelings for you. He only saw you as the future mother of his heir and that was it, but for some reason that made you happy. You hugged back his arms that held you while you caressed his hands.

“Forget it, my king. Rest well,” you said before resting your head on his bicep.

Next →

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[mistydeyes]

141 and what their patient file looks like

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summary: This is what I imagine everyone's favorite pharmacist as well as medics see when they look at 141's medical file.

Based on this pharmacist and 141 interactions

pairing: Task Force 141 x pharmacist!Reader

warnings: medical/pharmacy terminology, medical inaccuracies, swearing, depiction of wounds, mention of substance use disorder and abuse

Terms

PMH - Past medical history - the total sum of a patient's health status prior to the presenting problem

FH - Family history - contributing family history, generally parents and siblings

SH - Social history - contributing social behavior and routine

a/n: not canon at all! this is just a reference for me

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Price

PMH

Height: 1.88 m (6' 2'')

Weight: 93 kg (205 lbs)

Blood type: O+

Extensive physical injuries

21+ stab wounds - 2 required antibiotics for recurrent infection

9x bullet wound - 5x in the extremities, 4x in the chest (no perforation of vital organs), healed without complication

5x abrasion collar - 1 near right eyebrow became infected following medical eval and stitches

3x diagnosed concussion

Aspirin-sensitivity

Previously evaluated for tinnitus and hearing loss

FH

Father - deceased at 76 from liver disease - 50 pack years, mycardial infarction (x2)

Mother - deceased at 84 due to chronic heart failure (CHF) -Glaucoma, asthma, CHF

Sister - Sports induced asthma, hypothyroidism

Negative family history of diabetes, hypertension, and cancer

SH

Smokes - 30 pack years

Drinks regularly - 4-5 hard liquor each weekend; 1 glass of whiskey occasionally

Physically active - Enjoys recreational activities such as hiking, swimming, and biking

Has 1 dog, currently under the care of pt's younger sister

History of monogynous long term relationships, currently single

Medication list + indications

Amoxicillin/Clavulanic acid 625mg - Infection

Morphine 15mg + Ketamine 3mg - IV - Pain

Paracetamol 750mg - Pain

Buproprion SR 150mg - Smoking cessation - not-taking est 2004

Allergies

Aspirin allergy - Reaction: hives and asthma - ONLY PRESCRIBE PARACETAMOL

No environmental, food, or animal allergies

Notes

Patient has denied smoking cessation options

Soap

PMH

Height: 1.88 m (6' 2'')

Weight: 91 kg (200 lbs)

Blood type: O+

7x stab wound - 6 required antibiotics for recurrent infection, 2 MRSA resistant

2x bullet wound - 2x in lower extremities, healed with no complication

6x abrasion collar

2x broken collar bone - healed, with no complication

Lactose sensitivity - Recurrent IBS if ingested

Chipped first left molar following opening a beer with teeth

FH

Father deceased at 68 due to heart failure - Type 2 Diabetes Mellitus, high cholesterol

Mother - Stage I HTN (hypertension)

Sister #1 - Postpartum depression, generalized anxiety disorder

Sister #2 - Elevated cholesterol/triglycerides

Brother - No known chronic health issues

Positive family history of diabetes and hypertension, but no cancer

SH

Drinks regularly and heavily - 8-12 beers and 2-3 glasses of hard liquor each weekend; 1 glass of scotch occasionally

Smokes socially - 5 pack years

Physically active

Close relationship with family, has 4 dogs at home under the care of pt's mothers

Avid fan of The Glasgow Football Club

Medication list + indications

Clindamycin 300mg with ciprofloxacin 400mg - Infection

Amoxicillin/Clauvanic acid 625mg - Infection

Vancomycin 18mg/kg - MRSA resistant infection

Paracetamol 500mg - Pain

Morphine 15mg IV - Pain

Doxycycline 100mg - Acne discontinued in 2004

Allergies

Insect stings - Observed anaphylaxis to childhood bee sting

Notes

Patient demonstrates medication non-adherence, counsel ESPECIALLY with antibiotics

Scored 6 on Alcohol use disorders identification test for consumption (AUDIT C)

Gaz

PMH

Height: 1.86 m (6' 1'')

Weight: 93 kg (205 lbs)

Blood type: B-

3x stab wound - healed, no complications

1x broken collar bone

2x broken femur

Diagnosed concussion - evaluated in Oct. '19

FH

Father - Type 1 Diabetes, high cholesterol

Mother - Vitiligo, Stage 3 breast cancer

Positive family history of maternal cancer and diabetes, but no hypertension

SH

Social drinker - 3-4 beers each weekend

Does not smoke

Physically active - Enjoys morning and evening runs

Enjoys spicy food and tries to introduce into diet

When on leave, enjoys attending concerts and music festivals

Medication list + indications

Piriteze 10mg - Allergic rhinitis

Fluticasone Propionate - 93 mcg/actuation - Allergic rhinitis

Paracetamol 500mg - Pain

Allergies

Seasonal - Pollen and pet dander

β-Lactam allergy - Reaction: anaphylaxis evaluated in '19

Notes

Organ donor

Ghost

PMH

Height: Weight: 1.93 m (6' 4'')

WeighT: 100 kg (220 lbs)

Blood type: AB-

Extensive cuts and scarring to entire body

4+ stab wounds - healed, no complications

Gun shot to lower abdomen - healed, no complications, evaluated in Nov. '22

13+ collar abrasion

2x broken nose

Childhood injury of broken tibia and large toe

Psych eval - History of depression and post traumatic stress disorder, childhood history indicates emotional and physical abuse

FH

Father - status unknown Diagnosed alcohol use disorder

Brother - deceased, cause of death non-contributory - Substance use disorder

Mother - deceased, cause of death non-contributory - Hypertension, thrombophilia (blood clotting disorder)

Positive family history of hypertension, but no diabetes or cancer

SH

Social drinker - 3-4 glasses of hard liquor each weekend

Smokes socially - 10 pack years

Physically active - Enjoys nightly walks

Psych eval - Other squad members act as his emotional support

Expressed interest in cats and tattoo art (FLAGGED: Further input and comments from other medical professionals would be appreciated)

Medication list + indications

Paracetamol 1000mg - Pain

Amoxicillin/Clavulanic acid 625mg - Infection

Morphine 20mg + Ketamine 4.5mg IV - Pain

Mafenide acetate 5% topical - Antimicrobial, burn wounds

Fluoxetine 20mg twice daily - Depression - not taking est 2001

Allergies

NKDA - No known drug allergies

No environmental, food, or animal allergies

Psych recommends evaluation of a pet, such as cat, for pt while on leave

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

[maximumsunshine]

March 8, 2023

I don't know where to begin but I'll try to be brief.

I'm a single mom of 4 kids working my ass off, while recovering from cancer and trying not to die from liver failure brought on by the cancer. I'm working and working but it's not enough. We are working towards 2 additional, maybe even 3, streams of income for the household but there are delays and complications (gears if government nonsense). Relief is in sight but just out of reach. For now.

And now? I'm having to take a leave of absence from work to deal with the liver bullshit. At the end of this my liver will be fixed and I'll no longer be dying, but in the meantime i have procedure after procedure, hospital stay after hospital stay, and maybe a really intense surgery to round it all out. We don't know. My surgeon oncologist is just desperately trying to figure this out as we go.

But that does mean what income flow we did have has come to a stop. For a not yet determined amount of time. The guess is 2 months but we just don't know. And I'm all but living in the cancer ward so for real i cannot work through this.

I need help. I need lots of help. Bills and rent don't hold off just because I'm dying. Or well. Trying not to die. I don't even know what i need. But it's a lot with a household of 5, and the shit finances my ex wife left me.

If you can help, here is my paypal. Every little bit does help! And please ignore the deadname.

And reblogs are appreciated!

[bo-hoey]

Long post alert 🚨

Some of you that have been following me a while might remember that I practically vanished for the 2 years surrounding my liver transplant. Initially it was the stress of being in active organ failure and preparation for such a major surgery. Then my post op course did not go as expected at all and was extremely complicated. The main reason I was absent for so long after though was due to my appearance, mainly my hair. You are given so much information about what can and will happen to you when facing Transplant but one of the things they don’t tell you is that you might loose your hair. Women, especially myself, hold a lot of identity in their hair, so when a majority of mine fell out or broke off I was devastated. It wasn’t until last spring I would even leave my house without my hair covered, last summer when I felt more comfortable in photos and last fall when I gave up on the length I had left and cut it to hide the breakage. Finally over the spring it began to fully grow back and by the end of summer I was feeling like myself again. I even decided I WANTED to cut it again recently. I just want to take a moment to appreciate how healthy and long my hair has gotten again and how happy I am to have this piece of me back.

[covid-safer-hotties]

New Onset of Acute and Chronic Hepatic Diseases Post-COVID-19 Infection: A Systematic Review - Published Sept 10, 2024

Abstract The SARS-CoV-2 virus caused a pandemic in the 2020s, which affected almost every aspect of life. As the world is recovering from the effect of the coronavirus, the concept of post-COVID-19 syndrome has emerged. Multiple organ systems have been implicated, including the liver. We aim to identify and analyze the reported cases of severe and long-term parenchymal liver injury post-COVID-19 infection. Several databases were used to conduct a comprehensive literature search to target studies reporting cases of severe and long-term parenchymal liver injury post-COVID-19 infection. Screening, data extraction, and cross checking were performed by two independent reviewers. Only 22 studies met our inclusion criteria. Our results revealed that liver steatosis, non-alcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD), and cirrhosis were the most reported liver associated complications post-COVID-19 infection. Moreover, complications like acute liver failure, hepatitis, and liver hemorrhage were also reported. The mechanism of liver injury post-COVID-19 infection is not fully understood. The leading proposed mechanisms include the involvement of the angiotensin-converting enzyme-2 (ACE-2) receptor expressed in the liver and the overall inflammatory state caused by COVID-19 infection. Future studies should incorporate longer follow-up periods, spanning several years, for better insight into the progression and management of such diseases.

[roseapothecary]

hey, fam. as some of you know, my father unexpectedly passed away at the beginning of june. he'd been diagnosed with liver cancer in february, and he experienced sudden cardiac arrest at home — we think it was a complication of his liver failure, but we're honestly not 100% sure. i'm not gonna lie, either... it was literally the worst night of my life. it's been a really, really tough month, ya'll. so, if you've been wondering where the fuck i've been and why this blog has been running on a queue... now you know.

i'm just tossing it out there that i now have a ko-fi. i'm taking on a lot of financial responsibilities i wasn't expecting, literally overnight. my mom's social security isn't nearly enough to cover her bills, so i'll be supporting her going forward. that wouldn't be half as hard if it weren't for my giant pile of student debt and outrageous monthly payment, but... y'know. america. anyway, there is obviously no obligation to support me. however, if you have a couple bucks to spare and want to help my mom and i out sometime, it would be appreciated.

[genderqueerdykes]

You do realize asking people to document their experiences with diying hrt (which is sometimes a felony) comes off as kind of a fed move right

can i ask why?

because it's literally to help other people in the same situation- contextually, i have already been asked by someone doing DIY hrt for help. you just jumped to that conclusion for no reason, you gotta get a screen break in, friend. that's a wild accusation you made flippantly for literal no reason. can i ask of what my behavior at any point has flagged you as me being a fed?

do you always sling around catastrophized insults like this? if so this is not an acceptable way to talk to other people. you cannot jump to conclusions. read the room and use context. you really gotta calm down. you are worked the hell up over nothing. what, you would rather people who DIY their HRT have zero access to information? you'd rather them not know shit?

this is about helping people in delicate situations get resources that they need. i don't know how to tell you i can't dox these random people. sending an ask on tumblr will not get you arrested. i have had multiple people in the same situation reach out to me in my DMs. the best i can do is offer harm reduction. my goal is to offer harm reduction. why did you instantly jump to being oppressive? i'm doing this because nobody knows what the hell to do and they need as much information as they can to not get sick and die

this is a matter of preventing people from getting sick and dying. this is a matter of people not having heart attacks, deep vein thrombosis, strokes, high blood pressure, cysts, cancer, high cholesterol, liver failure, kidney failure, and other serious health complications that can come from accidentally taking too much of any drug, but also hormones. this is about making sure people can ask for how to get bloodwork. this is literally a matter of safety and harm reduction. i don't want people out there literally dying because they don't know how their HRT is affecting their body.

you do realize access to DIY HRT information is hard to find? it's usually passed along between people IRL and some people can't get that information. i collect resources in an unbiased fashion. this is silly. please look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself why you jumped to that conclusion because it's a projection of something inside of you, not me. this ask says nothing about me and everything about you

[jagged-peaks-number-1-fan]

gray wing misogyny drinking game to liver failure pipeline. i always hated that guy and my biggest damage comes from the fact that i had to endure years of the fandom characterizing him as this patient and fatherly cat when it's much more complicated than that. going back through the books there are many moments when he's clearly supposed to have a "nurturing protector etc" moment, but just as many where he has extremely uncharitable interactions with vulnerable cats. the recurring pattern seems to be that he's only sympathetic to the original group of travelling mountain cats minus turtle tail later on, and like. one or two new cats (like slate or river ripple, anyone else escapes me)

anyways, i'm convinced that someone on the writing team of dotc just hated women. the most "annoying" cats are those who dare bring up pregnancy or being a mother.

[mikewanders]

[dragonbleps]

We left the waiting room for multiple reasons after mom learned about the (typical) 2 hour wait time. She was in pain and exhausted, and was worried we'd run into the 6-8pm shift change where no visitors are accepted, my eye was really starting to give me a headache, etc etc.

When we got home, Mom spoke to the nurse who gave her the new room to see him in, possibly tomorrow. Dad made it through surgery fine and they had no issues reversing the anesthesia :) Apparently before the surgery he was almost entirely pain-free, so the pancreatitis is well on its way to healing! He has a wound in his side now, that's going to be sore because they had to go through muscle and such. But he's conscious and doing well, recovering.

Now, for what the doctor said about his gall bladder--

In front of the stomach, liver, and intestines, wrapping around them is a fatty, curtain-like organ called the omentum (there's Greater and Lesser, and more, but specifics aren't important). It plays a role in immune response. When things get inflamed--say, a liver--the omentum clings to those structures and aids in healing.

His pancreatitis had been so severe in affecting other organs it was challenging to maneuver around the omentum to get to the gall bladder. He ended up having to snip away some omentum, but said that dad has so much, it's not going to cause any harm.

What he did was snip the bulbous end of the gall bladder and begin scooping gall stones out. He said dad had at least a hundred stones. A HUNDRED, BB-to-pea-sized gall stones in his gall bladder!!! I thought the nurses had said no scans found any but??

Anyway, so he scoops them all out and then snips as much of the gall bladder out as possible. He wasn't able to remove as much as he usually does, mostly because the omentum was blocking vision so much and they don't want to risk nicking the Common Bile Duct because that'd cause a major complication and require a re-routing procedure, it just wasn't worth the risk. So there's technically still a risk of gall stones forming in the tiny funnel shape that's left at the end of the duct, but it's still safer.

He said dad was very lucky he came in when he did, that this was a very serious case of pancreatitis that could've caused multiple organ failure if left to progress. But the pancreas is now healing and the inflammation has gone down.

They're of course going to keep a close eye on him while the surgical wound heals, and monitor his liver numbers to make sure they didn't miss a stone or see that he's forming more.

He sent both the bit of amputated omentum and the gall bladder off to Pathology just to be sure, but he didn't see anything during surgery that looked tumorous.

They still wanna figure out what the fluid backup is and where it's coming from, but other than that, he should be on the road to recovery!

[thunderheadfred]

My baby is magic? A wizard. Or a secret fairie. I’m pretty sure.

Halfway through my labor my blood pressure started hitting high numbers. It’s been great all pregnancy, but postpartum preeclampsia is a thing, so they were checking that frequently. They kept us two nights after to monitor my blood pressure, which sort of improved.

I took measurements at home as instructed, and got a little frantic with it because by that point I hadn’t slept in 4-5 days and my right mind was nowhere to be seen. When I started breaking into the 150/80 range we called the birth center, as instructed, and got the same triage nurse who triggered the shit out of me about my blood sugar earlier in the pregnancy. Well, she did it again, sending me into an uncontrollable half-hour fit of sleepless postpartum sobbing, like, the hardest I’ve ever cried in my life type of sobbing. She pissed me off so bad that I broke out of my Midwestern Nice brainwashing and called the hospital back to complain about this nurse. We got forwarded to the head of nursing, who answered all our questions (finally) and also noticed I hadn’t been scheduled for my follow up. So we got that penciled in.

I got so stressed out and exhausted yesterday that I told my partner to call off the appointment in the morning, because after all, that triage nurse had gotten in my head and convinced me I was a paranoid hypochondriac who didn’t know what I was talking about.

I spent a good relaxing night with the baby and changed my mind, and we went in for the checkup this morning.

During the appointment, my blood pressure started high, and after I’d been holding baby for a while to relax, it went even higher, almost 160/90, which is the “get thee to a hospital” actual emergency number.

They prescribed nefedipine and took blood to check my organ function. A few hours later we get a call that my liver numbers are twice what they should be and straddling that “oh shit you might die actually” number that can indicate HELLP syndrome, which is one of the preeclampsia complications that you do NOT want. So uh. They scheduled an MD appointment for Monday for more bloodwork and follow up. The immediate treatment is still medication and relaxation, but uh. Yeah.

I feel like baby is still so close to the great mystery that she can pluck little threads and manifest her dreams. She dreamed that we would be safe and happy together, and made sure the mothership actually went in for goddamned maintenance instead of avoiding everything as usual. Did my baby save my life? (I mean yes, she certainly has in other ways, but like, saved me specifically from sudden catastrophic organ failure)

Maybe 🤔

[chrislaplante]

adam & evelyn laplante.

ingrid & luca deluna.

CHRIS' GRANDPARENTS when chris was seven, he met his paternal grandparents (the laplantes) when his family visited them up in canada, but has not seen them nor heard from them since, as the following year his father died and family ties were sadly severed. he's never met his maternal grandparents as they lived in argentina.

luca deluna passed away due to complications with his health (liver failure) during chris' freshman year of college.

* all pictures from their youth, before they met their future partners.