#cheers to hope!

[cinamun]

Is it really the dick? It feels like Mercy is punishing herself for something; she sabotages progress at every opportunity. It's true that Bishop ain't worth shit, and is an intimidating, manipulative fucker, but I'm getting the feeling that their relationship is a mutually beneficial one, and good sex is just a byproduct. He's made a hobby out of being creepy and controlling and she's made a hobby out of feeling like shit, at a fucking loss, and like she's on the verge of losing everything.

I agree with what a number of other people have said about a person's physical and mental ability to extricate themselves from an abusive situation not being as simple as just getting up and being gone. And I do believe Mercy is suffering from that affliction, but my thoughts are tethered to when you said that this is what Mercy believes she deserves.

Why? Why does she believe that she deserves this?

Because the why would explain why she was ripe for the picking from the easy target tree that Bishop was scoping. I mean, she was LOVED. How do you go from being so loved to feeling like the diametric opposite state of being is what you're worthy of? What does she believe she did to deserve Bishop? And not just Bishop, but what he represents? Because I have a feeling that he is simply a delivery system for the struggle and turmoil; and it only helps that he looks the way he does.

Bishop truly has nothing to offer her except for a perpetually fucked up sense of self and the dick, I guess, but let's not even compare it to her short-lived fuck off Bishop era and what could have come from that taking hold. Let's talk about what happens after she loses everything.

Will Bishop still even be interested? He may love the pussy, but I'm pretty sure he loves the control more. And what appeal will Mercy have for him when she has nothing competing for her attention? How will he satisfy his desire to conquer once he wins? They don't have a relationship of substance, so it's not like she'll be able to console herself with him if she gets disowned.

Mercy has got problems and this is not a bootstrap situation; someone needs to save her so she can then start saving herself (fake it til you make it). But none of that will matter if they don't get to the bottom of how she got there in the first place. Indya can take her to the club, make way for alternative dick, and help Mercy remind herself of what safe, sane, and consensual interactions are like, but those are only replacements, things to occupy the time she would otherwise be surrendering to Bishop (and her--assumed--guilt). It's time for some therapy, and not the good doctor; no offense to him, of course, but she needs to schedule some time with a Professional Black Woman™ that also happens to be a psychiatrist. I really want that for her.

I know here be drama, so the road is long, made longer by detours and double-backs (and arched backs), but good grief, I know I will weep if when Mercy reaches that day.

WE ARE BACK IN SESSION!!!!

Okay first paragraph:

You are ABSOLUTELY correct. When Mercy was first introduced, and as we learned more about this mysterious mother of the man Hope would marry, we learned that she feels an extraordinary amount of guilt for the passing of her husband. She has internalized that guilt, she cut off her friends, she thought if she had maybe taken him to different specialists, fought harder on his behalf, that Jackson Carruthers, Jazz Pianist would still be alive. Part of her feels deserving of the punishment and I agree that sex is the byproduct. Keeping in mind that Bishop is a narcissist, a literal walking diagnosis, sex is not only a byproduct, but a tool.

The parts after the first paragraph:

The podcast was a very key moment in Mercy's part of this saga. Yes, he is attractive and dominant, older and wiser. Its the fact that all she's really known is a strict upbringing, her late husband and the jazz scene. She is absolutely naieve and was most certainly ripe. Maybe she thinks that Bishop is the way men are. Maybe her father was a control freak narcissist POS. I can't call it.

As far as when its over, its over when Bishop says its over. And if he decides that its over, maybe this is the part where she unzips her skinsuit and dances around evilene's headquarters, you feel me?

*IF* she were to lose everything, she might snap and that's what the folks mean when they say they can't wait for pixie haircut Mercy to arrive.

I, too, want healthy arched backs for Mercy and a good dose of that healthy healing that can only come from The Professional Black Woman™. As you know, we'll stay tuned to see if she gets that. In the meantime, we have Indya who is at least one example of what a real loving relationship can be.

[awetfrog]

Here to throw them into as many romcom tropes as possible

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF animatronics aren’t evil,, just jolly

[worme4ter]

yo dudes so i'm currently making a tma book for my friend!

it's basically the tma wiki but in book form :)

(highly inspired by what pricklypearviking on reddit did just much less cool)

current status: i run out of printer toner and im in pain so decided to share this to pass the time

[aru-art]

sourdough rolls with homemade lemon curd what the absolute fuck man

[ceuazil]

Florence Welch, 2023 🧜🏻‍♀️

[see-if-i-still-bleed]

we’re on the last 2 days of vacation 😣

[rendevok]

“Take my hand” pages 16-18

1 -> 3 - day 4 - swap

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

do you have anything cheerful my brain just sprung Emotions (/neg) on me

my brain has also been springing negative emotions™

so i’ve gone through my photos looking for cheerful things for us both, I hope they help-

here’s a tiramisu with a powdered sugar heart-

here’s a baby goat and a cat-

here’s a goose and a turtle-

here are some cookies I made, in sunset lighting-

here are some disney ducks™ -

here’s a really pretty sunset-

here’s a terrifying but smiling ostrich-

and here’s rick :)

[kakushino]

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?” 

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

[spilycoris]

etc etc that one madoka comic but make it cotl etc etc . .

[agustd3]

D-DAY THE FINAL ✦ INTRO : Never Mind

[greykolla-art]

*knocking the walls lightly with a broom handle*

Hey goblins, I’m colouring your next meal! 👌

[yeagersss]

Sukuna x Reader where you have gained weight and Kuna cheers you up (in his own way)

Warnings: Just a bit suggestive at the end

You were standing in front of the mirror, eyes glued to your reflection. Your boyfriend, Sukuna, was staying over for the night and you were about to surprise him with his favorite red, lacy lingerie set.

But something was wrong.

You stared at the fat sticking out from your stomach, your thighs and your arms. Especially your stomach, that was rounder and jutting out. You raised one of your arms and noticed they were flabby.

The lingerie set that made you feel so sexy and was always your number one weapon to seduce your grumpy boyfriend, for the first time, was tight and you couldn't help but think it looked so unappealing on you.

Your mind was racing. You can't leave the room and surprise him like this. Maybe you could wear something else. Maybe surprise him in one of his shirts that were too big for you since he was a very very large man. But would you really be able to deal with him seeing your body when he takes it off--

"The hell are you doing, woman?"

You jumped and turned to see Sukuna leaning against the door frame. A scowl etched on his face. His arm crossed against his broad chest as he raked his deep red eyes across your body.

You couldn't help but cover yourself with your arms. "The hell are you doing, Kuna? I was supposed to surprise you!"

"Surprise me? You were gone long enough for me to think you were fucking dead or something."

You huffed and your eyes gleamed with stubbornness. "So I was taking my sweet time. Big deal." You hugged yourself tighter. "And besides... This is too tight on me. I'm gonna wear something else. I.. might have to put this set away for a while." You said, trying to keep it cool and pretend like you weren't so upset and feeling self conscious under your boyfriend's gaze.

But Sukuna stayed quiet. His narrowed eyes boring into you. He was a very perceptive man and he knows when you're upset even when you try to hide it.

With his hands shoved in his pocket, he walked closer to you until he was a few inches away. The way his tall, muscular and oh so sexy body towered over you. The way he looked down at you with a stern gaze made you shiver.

"Hand." He ordered.

You blinked in confusion at his request. He simply clicked his tongue in irritation.

The next thing you knew, his large hand shot out to grab your wrist. He pulled you closer.

And placed your hand straight to his crotch where his dick was hard and pulsing.

Your eyes widened and your face turned a scarlet hue. You quickly averted your gaze from him but his other hand shot out to roughly grab your chin and turn your face back to him.

"Look at me." He growled, his eyes reflecting a mixture of irritation, anger and lust. "If you think something as insignificant as the fat on your body is going to make me not want to fuck you, you are completely mistaken. And you want to wear something else? Like hell you're going to do that. You will keep wearing this until I get bore of it." His voice was low and threatening.

"K-Kuna..." You whispered, eyes glistening with tears and your heart warm.

"Don't you dare fucking cry, brat. Get on the bed already. I ought to punish you for even thinking these stupid thoughts."

You didn't even get to say anything as he picked you up and threw you on your bed. Needlessly to say, you couldn't walk at all the next day.

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

happy that we met each other now 'til the very end for @cosmicdreamgrl | cr. namuspromised

[sistertonin]

"Playing God."