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#torture the small child
mikakuna · 2 months
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i see this jason todd who actually looks his very young age (instead of the 30yr old man that comics like to portray)
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and feel my heart breaking just imagining bruce beating him up, almost killing him, mind-breaking him, and just overall being a total piece of shit father towards him.
a huge chunk of the reason why people don't view bruce's actions towards jason as abusive or wrong is because jason doesn't look his age. he's drawn to be this 35yr old father of three who looks even older than dick (and way too on par with bruce) that people see their fights as one between batman and any of his regular rogues. when they fight, it just looks like batman is fighting a man his age and not an actual young person. it doesn't look like batman is fighting his son who's barely even drinking age (and who def wasn't drinking age in utrh). their fights are portrayed in a way that eliminates the very real power struggle between them.
this applies to jason's entire character as well. a lot of people don't sympathize with how he died or his actions as robin or his fights with the other bats because he doesn't look his age. he always looks older and scarier than everyone else. tim has many sympathizers from the titans tower incident because jason just looked like a grown man fighting a 12yr old (even tho i disagree, tim was built and like 17 lmfao).
anyways, i just wish comics would actually draw jason to look his age, which literally ranges from 19 to early twenties. he's young- so young, and it's so annoying to see him drawn and written as someone older than even bruce.
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fuck-kirk · 1 month
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I feel like my main beef with the Danny Phantom fandom is that they’re always torturing Danny when Vlad is RIGHT THERE
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I noticed a lack of art today and so here, have some of Edgar being a good parent (against all canon I like to think he's good to the zombies)
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(So I was kinda nervous to post this lol)
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hussyknee · 3 months
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X
gotten to the point that's making me consider blocking the palestine tag because I heard about a mutilated baby in Gaza and still feel like someone sent my brain down a garbage disposal. Holding onto my kittens for dear life because all I want to do is either burn down the whole world or die.
I know that being forced to watch abuse and atrocity gives you PTSD too, but it feels shameful to admit that I can't do this anymore when nothing we onlookers feel could come close to what Palestinians are going through. But God. The rest of us who watch and care and pray are never going to recover from this either.
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anxiouspotatorants · 11 months
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Maura watched the strange man freeze in place in front of her. He no longer seemed as spectral as he had been mere seconds ago. Now it was he who looked as if he was watching a ghost.
The Spirits of Prometheus Asylum: An 1899 Victorian Gothic AU
(Raw images: not mine)
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runelocked · 6 months
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ETERNITY IS A REALLY LONG TIME, SHE’S RIGHT. AND WILLIAM CAN’T BLAME HER FOR WANTING A CHANGE. Even if he could, he wouldn’t: he’s leaping at the chance to talk, to stop the torture, if only for a while. As wary as he still is, something relaxes in his expression: he forgets, sometimes, that she is ONLY A CHILD.
At her words — no thanks to you — his mouth falls open, a retort ready on his lips. In my defence, he wants to say, I really had no idea what would happen. You were an experiment. But before he can speak, his brain catches up with his words, and thankfully shuts them off. The last thing he wants is to land himself in some kind of worse hell because of his insolence.
And there are questions he wants to ask her, of course. What did it feel like, being trapped in that suit? Why did you remain behind while others moved on?— Was it really just such a strong desire to make me suffer? How did you make this place? What’s next? … But for now, he keeps himself carefully guarded. He’ll ask difficult questions later, maybe. When he’s loosened up.
Still, William can’t help but snort, just a little cynically. “Normality,” he quotes dryly, “like ‘normal’ for us now isn’t life inside an old rotted suit. It’s been so long I don’t even remember what normal is.”
Sure he does. Normal had been extended smoke breaks cut short helping a child with a scraped knee, or sleepless prideful nights working on a new (non deadly) project for the diner. Normal had been Sunday family dinners and lollipops subtly dropped to children playing without friends and the warm delight at finding his favorite brand of coffee always stocked in his office. …But this office doesn’t really seem capable of normality. Homesickness stirs in him like a loose tooth, and William frowns at her.
“Tell me something about yourself then,” he says. It comes out less demanding than he wants it to sound. “Something from before. I’ve told you something: it’s only fair.”
CONTINUED. / @remnantbound
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asktk2 · 2 years
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Osamu how do you Feel practically looking after two murder babies one having enough power to blow up a building and the other being a literal war criminal but yet looking like they’re rush out of grade school.
See, I don't get the war criminal thing.
Sure, some of the things that Kuga and Hyuse have probably done (Unnecessary property damage, killing of POWs and civilians, taking hostages, and I'm pretty sure that they've both done at least one false surrender) are legally defined as war crimes on meeden. But are they in the neighborhood? I don't think so. Also, from what i've heard, the neighborhood doesn't have safe zones. there is literally nowhere you can go that is not at war. I feel like a lot of war law on Meeden is unsuitable for applicastion to that sort of enviroment. '
also, i'm not looking after them. they're looking after me.
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glompcat · 1 year
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2 and 6 for the ☆ dw asks ☆ ?
2. what’s your favorite moment with your least-favorite doctor?
This took a whole lot of thought, but I am going to go with eating Fish Fingers and Custard with young Amelia.
6. favorite motif or reoccurring theme in the show?
That the Time Lords are the absolute worst, and life on Gallifrey is a repressive and abusive nightmare.
Part of why Romana is my favorite Classic companion is because her stories always have great inroads to explore how over the top awful Gallifrey is, especially in the EU.
It is an evil empire that sees itself as better than the rest of the universe, when truly literally every single resident of that miserable planet - regardless of privilege - lives in absolute abject misery. No one NO ONE AT ALL benefits from their horrifically backwards way of doing things, and yet they claim to be be the most civilized and advanced society in existence, perfect to the point where making any change at all is considered wrong.
Even after Rassilon returns and any and all veneer of anything else drops away and they fully embrace being a fascist state where the schools teach nothing but weapons making and battle strategy and the entire universe is divided into "planets that have pledged their fealty to us and we can do whatever we want to their populations" and "planets that refuse to say they are our slaves, and therefore should be wiped out of the timeline" nothing has really changed, they just are openly acting externally again for the first time in epochs.
They are THE WORST, the absolute worst, in every conceivable way. From friendship being frowned upon and almost seen as a dirty word in their society to how they steal literally everything they claim as their own cultural achievements (it is so telling, when in the audios they visit a Gallifrey were interstellar travel has not been attempted since Rassilon's time, they have no scientific curiosity or talent, just endless cruelty and an entrenched system where members of the upper classes can loose all status and become slaves either to earn their houses extra money or as punishment for stepping a foot out of line).
From the moment we see them in War Games, everything about the Time Lords is self righteous bullshit and dolling out punishment to those who refuse to conform to their endless endless laws, positioning themselves as the arbiters of justice in the universe while simultaneously being anything but. Just a place where every last resident is miserable and the founders were monsters beyond measure who set up a society so ass backwards basic psychological needs like enjoying life - taking stock of the daisiest daisy - are totally alien to their way of life. And yet, despite creating a horrible place where no one is ever happy - they are revered as Gods, as creators of the perfect ideal, above all critique or questioning.
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llycaons · 2 years
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this is going to sound awful but I have not historically cared when a protagonist's parents were dead because it tended to be very generic angsty backstory for a shonen protag or whatever but the exception has been wwx I'll be like 'cangse sanren and wei changze never got to to see their son grow up god they loved him so much he would have been so happy with them' and legitimately have to fight off tears. and part of that is because they're charming, if one-dimensional characters, and I think part of it is how hard it is to watch what happens to wwx after his parents died because honestly it feels like that's where it all started
#you can name like two arcs in which wwx did not experience some sort of horrific trauma#it's almost ridiculous. this kid's parents are dead at 4 he's homeless he's fighting for food with feral dogs for YEARS#gets adopted into an emotionally abusive/neglectful household that he's still super grateful for because he's again#no longer a preschool-age child fighting wild dogs on the streets#gets thrown into a dungeon with his worst nightmare. sees his home destroyed and is personally blamed for it#gets tortured for MONTHS makes enormous sacrifices to win the war#abandons everything he loves to safe a small group of hated political prisoners and spends a year in the place that almost killed him#and loses his third family to their decision to sacrifice themselves for him#THEN loses one of the last people in the world who cares about him in the cruellest and most guilt-generating way possible#and all through that dealing with the corruption and elitism of the gentry he own shaky role in his society#and trying to maintain his autonomy and have agency in his own life#AND a painfully tumultous relationship with his soulmate who he probably feels like abandoned him#when people talk about the show taking liberties by having him commit suicide I cannot fathom where they thought his mental state#was at in the book. the two versions of his death really weren't so different#anyway he literally comes back to life against his will and the first thing he experiences is physical violence and verbal abuse#postres is MUCH better for him and things get sorted out but he still gets stabbed by his nephew feels rejected#and hated by people he loved etc. like it's so over the top it's almost hard to take seriously#but take it seriously I do 😔 my heart continues to ache#edit: AND he's a teenager. god as if it wasn't already bad. idk about you but my teenage years were miserable and confusing enough#cql txp
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theloserarmy · 2 years
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Personal rant thing below, advice welcome
Okay so a little bit about me, I am pretty certain I am on the autism spectrum (this will surprise very few people). I get self conscious bcuz I now that self diagnosing is not ideal, but I honestly have no idea of seeking a diagnosis would be beneficial to me at all and I know that there are still a lot of stigmas as well as tangible discriminatory practices that could accompany a diagnosis.
I could use some understanding (I think everyone could) but I don’t think that I need any accommodation. Most of my issues are social, with some overstimulation stuff, but I am an adult and there is very little in my life that I don’t have the option of just leaving if that gets bad. I can’t think of a benefit of a diagnosis aside from personal validation and perhaps a better explanation for why I can’t control my tone well or read the tone of others well. I think a lot of people assume without the explanation tbh.
I think I want the ability to say it, to name my experiences, and kind of earn my spot in a community that I already fall into, but it’s also something that could harm me, and for what? To stop people on the internet from giving me side eye??
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ttaibhse · 2 years
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people criticising the new yanagihara book while praising a little life are so crazy to me becauze a little life was so boring and the prose was bland and not at all engaging and the subject matter… i don’t think people should only write within their own experience or writing would be extremely boring but something is not right in there lol
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imperiuswrecked · 3 months
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I'm never forgetting the Palestinian babies that were left to starve to death then rot in their beds by the IOF.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian doctors surrounded by bodies of dead children begging the world to stop the slaughter.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian children who held a press conference in English to beg the world to stop murdering them because they want to live.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Priest who said "We will not accept your apology after the genocide" to the world.
I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Imam who used the speakers of the Mosque, not to call people to prayer but to call out to God while the world around them was burning from American supplied Israeli bombs.
I'm never forgetting the grandfather who held his dead grandchild in his arms. Or the father carrying the remains of his two children in plastic shopping bags. Or the mother holding her dead child in a shroud. Or the father sitting among the rubble after he lost his whole family. Or the girl trapped under a broken building begging for people to save her family first. Or the boy who cried when he saw his brother alive. Or the girl who asked if she was still alive after being pulled from the rubble. Or the boy who carried the remains of his brother in his backpack. Or the old man the IOF used for a photoshoot before they shot him dead after getting pictures. Or the little boy wearing plastic gloves to pick up the remains of his family. Or the graves desecrated. Or the body of that small baby girl left alone in a tent because no one knew who she was or if her family was alive, small and alone and not one person who knew her name to bury her. Or the young boy who was shot in the street while his sister watched from the window. Or the men and boys who were stripped naked in winter. Or those tortured. Or those made to stand in open graves. Or the people who were raped by IOF soldiers. Or Palestinian workers kidnapped by the IOF and then labeled with wristbands, each one reduced to a number, then made to walk back to Gaza to be killed in the world's largest open air concentration camp. Or the people of Gaza starving because Israeli Zionists are blocking aid trucks. Or the Israelis dancing and celebrating the death of Palestinians. Or the lies spread by Zionists and their supporters. Or the people profiting off the oppression and deaths of Palestinians. Or the people of the West Bank being killed or kidnapped by the IOF. Or old woman who was older than the creation of the terror state of "Israel" who was shot by snipers for saying that. Or the Israelis dressed up as Palestinians to enter a hospital and kill three Palestinians in their beds. Or every single Palestinian currently kept in an Israeli prison. Or the journalists, doctors, poets, men, women, children, and the unborn all massacred. Or the fact that WCNSF exists now. Or the woman who refused to wash the blood from her hands. Or the dead, unburied and unmourned.
I'm never forgetting those who chose silence in the face of a genocide.
I may not know all their names but I will not forget the over 30,000 Palestinians dead. Or the over 60, 000 people hurt. Or the unknown number of people missing, still lost under the rubble. Or the 12,000 children slaughtered. An entire generation crippled or murdered.
I will never forget these things when Palestine is free.
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nagitoedit · 5 days
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oceantornadoo · 2 months
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bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)
honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.
“you ate my last cookie?”
soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.
“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.
“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.
“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.
you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”
he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.
finally you were at peace, and all because of him.
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hor3nee · 4 months
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• Life •
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Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.
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CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Sukuna x Reader
AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic
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   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.
And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.
To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.
The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.
Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.
Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.
Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.
"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.
"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.
"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.
"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.
Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.
Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.
But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.
"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.
"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.
"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.
That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.
His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.
"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.
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thefallofruins · 5 months
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── “Inconvenience” [Ryomen Sukuna]
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Request — I love love love love love your fav concubine/queen stories with sukuna 😍😍😍😍❤️❤️❤️❤️ can I request a story where for the concubine rides sukuna's tummy tongue until he's completely satisfied , like edge play/multiple orgasm or pregnant sex where the queen is really needy and horny for her husband after he has spent so much time outside.
A/N — hi nonnie, tysm for requesting <3 hope you don't mind, but I went with preggo sex cuz I'm not comfy writing fics with his belly mouth involved yet, so I'm really sorry. Hope you enjoy this though.
Warnings — pregnant sex, praise, creampie, nipple play, true form! Sukuna Minors DNI
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"S'kuna, missed you so much..." you mumble softly, face buried in his chest. He was met by such an adorable sight the moment he returned— his adorable, pretty lil wifey with a small yet visible baby bump rushing to greet him and capturing him in a hug. He chuckles, patting your head softly.
"That so? just how much did you miss me, my Queen?" he places a finger beneath your chin, gently nudging you to look up at him. One of his other hands are placed on your hip, his thumb tracing your slightly swollen belly.
"Too much, Sukuna..." you reply with a frown. Your hormones were driving you mad. Carrying the child of the king of curses wasn't easy, your needs increased phenomenally. You needed Sukuna more than ever, you needed him to be by your side, saying soft and comforting things to you, reminding you of how good you are, how proud he is of you for carrying his little heir.
He chuckles again, a hand reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Well, I'll have to apologise to my Queen for causing her such inconvenience, no?"
"You better," you pout, tiptoeing in an attempt to get a kiss. He smiles and pulls you close, bending a bit to give you a well-deserved kiss. You whimper softly as he bites your lower lip, his tongue swirling around yours, driving you crazy. You needed him so, so, so bad.
He parts, allowing you your oxygen, a thumb tracing your lower, swollen lips slightly. Goodness, you had gotten so beautiful with his heir growing in you. A hand traces the line of your back, causing shivers to run down your spine, "My beautiful queen..."
A short gasp escapes you as his fingers finds your loosely tied obi— untying it in a single moment. Your kimono loosely falls at your sides, and Sukuna gently places you back on your bed where you lay resting before his return. He presses a few kisses on the soft skin of your neck, relishing your scent— one he had to unwillingly part from for a few days.
"Magnificent..." he mutters, trailing kisses before stopping at the swell of your breasts, which had swollen significantly thanks to the pregnancy. He chuckles darkly, cupping your sore tit with one hand, making you whine softly before his lips latch onto your nipple, sucking deviously on the sore skin.
"N–Ngh...S'kuna..." you let out a soft moan, fingers tugging on his pink hair slightly as you feel the wetness grow between your thighs. You rub your legs together to soothe the growing ache. Sukuna, noticing soon, parts from your nipple with a smile, a string of saliva dissolving as he does.
"Feeling needy, are we?" he speaks, his finger reaching below to trace your dripping folds from over the cloth. "Ah...so needy, my queen." he chuckles, feeling the wetness grow and watching you squirm, eyes pleading him to continue.
"Speak, my Queen..." he smirks, teasing you by torturously tracing his finger up and down, finding your sensitive clit. You're a mess and he hasn't even begun yet.
"S-Sukuna–ah, please!" the plea escapes your lips, "N-Need you," you say in a raspy voice. The hormones had gotten you so needy and sensitive for him. He chuckles, the no-good panties ripped off from you in an instant, revealing your glistening cunt.
"How cute." he smirks, beginning to undress himself, the kimono falling off his body, the silk material falling of his body. You eye your husband with your needy eyes— making quite a cute sight for his. He reveals his cock– veiny, throbbing, pre-cum dripping down from his tip. Such a sight could make you drool on spot...
"Ready, my Queen?" he asks, a smile on his lips as he rubs the tip against your puffy lips. You give him a weak nod, as he prods his cock into your entrance, making you gasp at the sensation of his girth slowly filling up your tight entrance. "S-Sukuna!"
He enters your heat fully, making you feel every inch of him, and added your grown sensitivity from your hormones— every push, every pull, every caress on your skin, it drove you crazy. "O-Oh, Sukuna-Ah!" you moan, wrapping your hands weakly around his neck.
He begins to rock his thick length in and out of your tight cunt, which welcomed it warmly, squeezing around it everytime. He groans, feeling the slick coat his cock, feeling the warmth of your sweet cunt tightening around him, leaning down to kiss you and leave your lips swollen, feeling your round tits bounce up and down with each thrust against his chest.
"Cum for me, my precious..." he grunts, feeling your gummy walls tighten around him a bit more, knowing you're nearing your sweet release. "Mnhh...S'kuna!!" you moan out loudly, a clear liquid gushing over his cock as your walls clamp around him, your head buried in the crook of his neck, making him grin merrily.
A few more thrusts, and he finds himself close to release too, he grunts audibly before emptying his seed into you. A soft whine escapes your lips as you feel the warm sticky liquid fill you up, feeling more sensitive than ever. He pulls out, looking at his cum gush out of your cunt slowly, proud of the mess he created.
His eyes shift back at your tired form, and he leans to press a kiss to your forehead, gently brushing the strands of your hair from my face before he grins at you, "Hope that was enough to make up for the inconvenience caused."
You, through heavy breaths, manage to give him a soft and sweet smile, "Will do..."
He smiles at your response, laying himself beside you, kissing your forehead softly. His fingers gently traces the swell of your belly. "You did well, my love..." he says softly, allowing you to rest as you cuddle up to him.
A hand rests on your head and the other on your belly, he's enthralled by the fact that there's a tiny version of him on the way. And you're the one who's giving him this blessing. His precious queen.
"I'm so proud of you," he mutters softly, kissing the top of your head. That's the last thing you hear before slipping into sleep's sweet embrace.
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