sukuna x y/n: Saviour Of The Shadows

Injury Tending ✧(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

After navigating the treacherous paths of the cursed forest, Sukuna finally leads you to a secluded clearing.
The air is heavy with the scent of decay and forgotten magic, but the ground is surprisingly clear of undergrowth, as if the very plants have bowed out of deference to the dark power that dwells here.

Sukuna pauses at the center of the clearing, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings with a critical eye before nodding in satisfaction.

He turns to you, his expression grim but resolved.

'This place will suffice for the night,' he says, releasing your hand to begin gathering fallen branches and leaves for a makeshift bed. 'We'll need to keep a watchful eye out, though. The Queen's reach extends far and wide, and we can't afford to let our guard down.'

As he works, Sukuna's movements are economical and precise, his strength apparent in the way he manipulates the debris with ease.
The sight is both captivating and intimidating, a reminder of the formidable power that courses through his veins.

Once the makeshift bed is prepared, Sukuna turns to you, his eyes searching your face in the flickering torchlight.

The wounds you sustained during the battle with the specter and by the Queen look more severe in the harsh glow, a testament to the perilous path you've been led down.

'I'll tend to your wounds,' he says, his voice gentle despite the gruff edge. 'Let's get you cleaned up and bandaged.'

You clear your throat and look up at him, finally releasing the words stuck in the back of your mind.

'Thank you - for everything - for saving me...'

Sukuna's gaze softens at your words.
For a moment, the intensity of the situation fades, and you catch a glimpse of the man behind the mask of power - the weary, weary king who has shouldered the weight of a curse for far too long.

'You don't have to thank me, brat,' he says, his voice rougher than usual. 'I saved you because... I realised I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. You're mine, and I'll move hell and earth to keep you safe.'

His words are bold, bordering on possessive, but there's an undercurrent of raw emotion that speaks of a depth of feeling he rarely reveals.

Sukuna's fingers close around your hand, squeezing gently as he draws you closer.

'Now, let's get you cleaned up and tended to. I don't want you wasting away while we're still in the midst of this mess.'

With that, he guides you towards a shallow stream that bisects the clearing, the water dark and mysterious in the torchlight.
Sukuna begins to unfasten his tunic, revealing the lean, powerful muscles of his chest. His movements are purposeful, his focus entirely on helping you.

'Strip down and get in,' he instructs, his voice low and commanding. 'I'll take care of the rest.'

You carefully shrug off your clothes before stepping into the stream, with your arms awkwardly covering your chest. You can't help but feel exposed and embarrassed, but try your best to focus on the reality of the situation.

Taking a second to compose yourself, you step into the water with a deep breath.

Sukuna's eyes travel over your body, his gaze lingering on the curves and contours of your body with a mix of hunger and admiration.
He swallows hard, his pupils dilating as he follows you into the stream.

'Over here, brat,' he says, his voice raw, guiding you to a shallow pool of water that collects at the base of a moss-covered boulder. 'Let me have a look at those wounds.'

His fingers are deft as he examines the cuts and bruises that mar your skin, his touch gentle despite the severity of the injuries.
Sukuna's tongue darts out to wet his lips as he works, his focus never wavering from the task at hand.

'You're a mess, but nothing a little dark magic can't fix,' he mutters, his hand lingering on a particularly nasty gash on your temple. 'Just sit still, and let me do my work.'

With a flick of his wrist, Sukuna conjures a glowing, shadowy tendril that drifts from his fingertips to the wound.
The air shimmers as the energy wraps around your skin, the pain subsiding almost immediately as the curse takes effect.

'There we go,' he says, stepping back to admire his handiwork. 'That should help you heal faster. Now, let's get you dried off and into something comfortable.'

Sukuna reaches for a length of woven reed, using it to gently wipe away the water from your body, his touch lingering a bit longer than necessary.

Once you're dry, he hands you a roughspun tunic, the fabric soft from years of use. The garment is a size too large, but it will serve as a makeshift bedsheet for the night.

'Put this on, and then come sit by the fire,' Sukuna says, gesturing to a pile of wood and a small, crackling blaze he's conjured on the opposite side of the clearing. 'I'll bring over some dried meats and berries to break our fast.'