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#I'm going through it guys
fangswbenefits · 9 months
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So pouty
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khaire-traveler · 6 months
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Sometimes I wonder what the gods I worship think of me.
Are they proud of me for the struggles I've overcome, or are they disappointed in me for the mistakes I keep making?
Do they find me respectable for the things I do for others, or do they find me repulsive for neglecting my own problems?
Will they welcome me into the afterlife with open arms and inviting smiles, or will they simply send me on my way and never reach out again?
I have these thoughts and feelings - the struggle between "they think well of me" and "they want nothing to do with me". It's difficult to even guess how a deity might feel. Human communication relies so heavily on body language, but there are no bodies to be seen. There are no facial expressions, no tangible language, no physical touch. We merely grasp at what little we can get, communicating through methods that science cannot prove.
We defy our very own nature when we communicate with gods. It does not come naturally to most. It's best not to be too hard on ourselves because of this. Communicating with gods is no easy feat. And I'd like to think they know that we're trying our best.
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hekateinhell · 1 year
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I just gotta say I'm halfway through Captive Prince: Book Two, and for a series that's supposedly like Fantasy Sex Politics World, this is the slowest burn ever
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phantoids · 7 months
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Having identity issues is so funny cause its like wow I am not feeling like a person and have no concept of myself as an actual human being. Time to absorb my favourite characters entire existence and personality about it just to feel like a fucking person again!
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smuttyassholes · 1 year
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run me over w that carussy
Me first
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- asshole 4
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kqluckity · 2 years
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i love when people draw dirk all point-y and shit because his whole thing is how he's unknowable and unlovable and thinks he's the worst and should be alone all his life forever but actually every time one of his friends says anything to him he just. he just folds like a chair. idk if it makes sense to anyone else
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lazylittledragon · 4 months
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do any other artists feel like. yeah you're a 'good artist' because you draw things that look nice, but like. TECHNICALLY? you're really not great
i really hate that i can recognise that yes, my art is good, but is it VARIED? is it dynamic?? is my anatomy good? is it full of texture and colour theory? do i know how to do This? can i do That? no, not really. and that's quite painful actually
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.
#Fear and Hunger#D'arce Cataliss#Cahara#Ragnvaldr#Enki Ankarian#Unlike Dungeon Meshi - I cannot in good faith recommend this game to a broad audience.#My background with F&H goes as follows: I am hanging out with a friend. He says “hey try this game I've been playing.” I say “Okay!”#I have never heard of this game. I pick the mercenary. I go through 5 min of character history and background. I am mauled to death by dogs#It took me 4 resets to even get in the dungeon. But I finally get there. I am caught by a guard. He cuts off all but one of my limbs#I am forced to crawl around in a blood and corpse pit until the game tells me 'give up idiot'.#I reset. I am mauled by dogs again. I realize this is not for me but I am intrigued enough to go home and watch some playthroughs#And WOW what an interesting game it is! I really do appreciate games that blend their design philosophy with the theme it wants to set#This is a game about fear and hunger. And persevering. And penis (my god is there a lot of penis)#I recommend this to people who like extremely challenging games and can handle the many *content warnings* within this series#If the idea of Bloodborne/eldenring and undertale having a little RPG maker baby sounds appealing to you - give it a shot#It's made by ONE GUY and it's a great horror game. I am just really bad at it.#My friends just enjoy putting me in situations where I scream and yell. We don't talk about the corn mazes. Or the other horror game nights#Apparently I'm funny when I'm Scared!#As people who follow me on twitter might know; I am deep in the pits of this series right now. I will be back with more art.
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solarisfortuneia · 2 months
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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.
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and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.
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✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)
✦ featuring: alhaitham.
✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.
✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)
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he didn’t know that it was your last day together. 
he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.
he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.
he didn’t think he’d lose you like this. 
he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow. 
“please, please,”  he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.” 
the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.
“wake up, please,”  he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—”  his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain. 
desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray. 
please, please tell me it’ll be okay. 
please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time. 
please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.  
“— just wake up, beloved.” 
by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere. 
no. no. this can’t be happening.
he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.
“alhaitham—” 
his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?  
“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.” 
those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.
i love you. 
he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.
until he can’t smell camphor anymore.
every person has their curiosities. 
they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.
for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.
after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?
alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things. 
number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person. 
he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.
and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away. 
you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.
you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.
‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”
alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.
and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’ 
“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.” 
“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”
“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”
those five more minutes were never five minutes long. 
but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.
alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play. 
“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,
i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!
oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,
wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”
you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.
loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.
but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones. 
a wish that you’d come back, somehow. 
he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did.  but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you. 
a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.
 he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.
“alhaitham, it's time to go.”  kaveh calls his name softly.
 alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,”  he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.” 
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✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?
that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this
when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.
thanks for reading.
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luna-lovegreat · 3 months
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Currently obsessed with the idea that the boys go to Time for love advice, since "he's married so he knows this stuff right?"
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I mean they couldn't recognize a wedding ring??? And neither did he???
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And time was saying this in his youth I mean cmon
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Twilight: So ancestor. What would you do if like. Malon left to another world and never came back
Time: ... bro Malon called me fairy boy and then we were married like what
Hyrule: So uhh old man. How does one. Meet a girl.
Time: By speaking to her I guess? Or not, Malon did the talking for me
Hyrule: riiiiight...
Wild *no tact*: Hey so like... what if your redheaded wife who's name started with M died.
Time: what?!?!
Wild, undeterred: but like before she proposed.
Time: ...
Wild: and you don't remember if you would have said yes. What's your advice for dealing with that?
Time: ... vent to a fairy?
Warriors: hey old man
Time: no no no not this one asking me please
Warriors: how do I get women to stop coming after me. So I can ya know. Choose without war trying to force me into relationships
Time: I can safely say I've never had that problem captain
Wars: of course not *smirks*
Wars: ok but seriously how do I make them go away
Time: ... wear a wedding ring so they think you're taken, I've got a shiny extra
Time: no no why- they won't stop, I don't know how to do love!
Time: ok well at least I have legend. That kid would never ask for advice, I'll sit by him.
Legend: so old man.
Time, looking forward to a normal conversation: yeah?
Legend: hypothetically, what would you do if you found out Malon didn't exist.
Legend: And her whole world didn't, but it did, and now it doesn't
Time: ...Excuse me for a minute.
Time, writing a letter as fast as he can: MALON HOW DO I GIVE LOVE ADVICE THEY THINK IM WISE
Malon: lol
Happy Valentine's Day guys, have a headcanon :P
The boys go to Time for love advice and Time spouts whatever wise-sounding bs he can, before shoving them all on Malon for therapy when they visit the ranch
Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse! :D
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undeaddrabble · 4 months
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A friend requested I draw them in cat maid outfits so I delivered
Bonus:
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aangarchy · 7 months
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Everytime i get reminded of "toph's" concept art, i always think how weird it would have been to just have an adult man hang out with three kids for months
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stairset · 3 months
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I do feel like the way Kyoshi was written in the Avatar reboot was lowkey influenced by the fandom's perception of her. Cause like in the original show she's really just portrayed as a pragmatist who's willing to kill if necessary. Like Aang is conflicted about killing the Fire Lord and she's like "well if I were in your position I'd do it but that's just me. Good luck." And then people started making memes where she's like a murderous psychopath who thinks extreme violence is always the solution. And it was funny at first cause it was just exaggerating for comedy but now everyone thinks she was actually like that in the show when she really wasn't. And then in the remake her introductory scene is her angrily yelling at this 12 year old that he needs to stop being a little pussy and be a ruthless warrior or whatever and the only explanation I can think of is that someone in the writer's room maybe looked at a few too many of those memes.
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madaqueue · 1 month
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What the Books Don't Teach You
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pairing: ryomen sukuna x reader
themes/content: dark content. dubcon. language, smut. name calling (slut, whore), hair pulling, choking, orgasm denial, fingering, sex. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.5k
a/n: i'm so sorry if this is the first thing of mine you're reading or if you followed me for cute content AH it's dark and intense but i am such a sukuna apologist :'/ forgive me (also i know this isn't perfectly canon with the name stuff but shh)
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The library is dim, illuminated only by the flickering candles that surround your workspace. Books upon books, pages of notebooks sprawled around you, trying to uncover anything you can about the curse that has plagued your best friend Yuji.
It’s been months since Sukuna first appeared. At first he was easy to contain, surely owed to Yuji’s strong willpower, his need for nonmaleficence. But as he consumed more he grew increasingly powerful, a dark presence that constantly hid around the corners of his mind. Yuji could sense it, too - there would be moments, barely just flashes at first, where it’s like he wasn’t there. You’d be talking to him and his eyes would glaze over, the ever-present grin on his face dropping slightly. “Sorry,” he’d mutter sheepishly as returned to himself, “what were you saying?”
Inside his mind, you knew what was happening: Yuji was talking to him. The “King of Curses,” a title he demanded to be called, one that you refused to use whenever you were forced to acknowledge his presence. You’ve seen him kill over the name when it was not honored, yet you would rather die at his hand than utter an ounce of respect to him.
As time went on, Sukuna appeared more and more often, a fact that every Jujutsu sorcerer desperately tried to ignore. When he did appear, the man was cruel, selfish, and sadistic. He taunted those he knew to be weaker than himself and purposely placed himself in harm’s way to prove his own strength. He left a path of destruction and desecration in his wake, forcing Yuji to clean up the pieces.
Sukuna had ruined Yuji’s life, and you couldn’t stand by and let your friend suffer under the weight of the curse for any longer. You began sneaking out of your room every night to the library, trying to collect any information on how to rid him from existence. It didn’t matter if he had to be exorcised or killed, so long as he relinquished control of Yuji.
Unfortunately, information was sparse. In the weeks you’ve been searching you haven't even been able to find the source of Sukuna’s cursed energy, let alone how to eliminate it. As your eyes skim the pages of text in front of you, something catches your eye:
‘Ryomen Sukuna holds a true form unlike any other. He is a demon, with four arms, two faces, and an additional mouth on his torso. This grants him inhuman strength and senses.’
Okay, you think, now we’re getting somewhere. Learning his appearance can give you insight into his strengths and, hopefully, his weaknesses.
As you begin copying the notes onto the paper next to you, the candlelight flickers.
A low laugh echoes through the room. “What are you doing in here all by yourself, little sorcerer?” The deep voice makes your blood run cold. As you start to turn towards the source of the sound in the doorway, a tattooed hand grabs your cheeks and holds your head in place. Another hand appears on your waist, digging into your skin with sharp black nails.
Shit.
Sukuna’s presence suddenly becomes overwhelming, his body pressing against your back, heat radiating off of his bare chest. You still can’t see him, but his cursed energy is unmistakable.
Your mind races as you feel panic setting in. How did he find you in here? How did you miss him entering the room? How did he take over Yuji’s body this time?
Another laugh erupts from his lips. “Aw, are you reading about me, little one? How adorable,” his voice dripping with fake sweetness.
“Su-” you start before he tightens his grip on your face.
“I didn’t say you could speak, now did I?” he rumbles. “You really should learn some manners. Besides, I know you’re aware that I don’t much care for that name.” A chill shoots up your body as you try to steady your breathing. His hold on you never wavers as he shifts so his mouth is next to your ear. “But lucky for you, I’m feeling quite forgiving tonight,” he whispers, breath hot on your skin.
Your face flushes at his words as your heart races in your chest. At first you think it’s just fear coursing through your body, until you notice a dull ache between your legs.
No. No. No. This is not happening.
His deep voice pulls you out of your spiraling thoughts as he places his head on your shoulder, looking down at the open books in front of you. “Ah, I see you were just starting to learn about my true form. I was glorious, you know. This fucking brat is nothing compared to what I once was,” he spits, mentally gesturing at Yuji’s body. “Fortunately, I was able to take one piece of my old body with me.” Before you can ask, you feel a tongue suddenly slide against your lips.
The feeling makes you jump in your seat, Sukuna’s hold tightening on you. Another laugh booms through the room as your eyes glance down to see a mouth formed on the palm that grips your face. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it, woman. I’ve seen the way you stare at the brat, just think of me like him, but better,” he smirks.
He was right - you had caught Sukuna’s eyes staring at you whenever you stole glances at Yuji out of the corner of your eye, but it was nothing serious. The poor boy already had enough going on with this curse, you couldn’t bring yourself to add to his stress by confessing how you feel.
This fucking curse.
“For what it’s worth,” he continues, “I have taken quite an interest in you myself. Don’t think I don’t notice when you purposely drop something just to bend over, or when you wear those tight shreds of cloth you could barely call a uniform. You fucking tease,” he growls.
The space between your legs throbs at the low vibration of his voice against you. What is happening? Is he doing this to you?
As if he hears your thoughts, he speaks again. “I know you’ve thought about it too, there’s no need to be so proud. Before I was stuck in this brat’s body I had whores like you lining up for me every day, not because I made them, but because they wanted me.” He pauses, using the silence to lick up your neck and bite at your ear. “And I have a feeling you want me, too.”
Fuck. His words have your knees weak and pussy throbbing. You’re grateful to be sitting down, otherwise you know you’d be visibly shaking, no longer from fear. 
Suddenly the hand on your waist loosens, but instead of releasing you, he drags it down between your legs. His nails scratch softly against the skin of your thigh, bare beneath your skirt. His fingers reach your clothed cunt, and from his soft chuckle you can tell you have soaked through your panties.
“I knew it,” he mutters, tracing up your covered folds. The feeling forces a soft moan out of your mouth and you feel Sukuna’s lips curl into a grin against your neck. “Say it, little sorcerer. Say you want me.”
You gather every ounce of restraint left in your body to answer. “N-no,” your voice waivers.
Your response seems to amuse him as he practically giggles into your ear. The hand that previously held your face drops down to your neck as he squeezes your airway closed. “And here I thought Jujutsu sorcerers were supposed to be some noble, honest breed. But I guess some of them can be lying whores, huh?”
With that, he grabs you and throws you against the desk, your chest hitting the dark wood with a hollow thud. Your hands land under you as you try to brace yourself against the sudden impact and Sukuna takes the opportunity to yank your skirt down your legs, throwing it across the room. You yelp as a hand crashes against your thigh, pulling you back towards him. He presses his hips against you, feeling the bulge growing through the black sweatpants Yuji must have been wearing to bed. “See, my cock knows it wants you. Even I can be honest, so what’s stopping you?” he growls. He grinds himself slowly against you, the pressure against your needy cunt driving you insane. “I know this pussy wants me, just admit it,” he sneers.
“I-” you try to start again before Sukuna shoves the side of your head down against the desk, your cheek hot against the cold wood.
“The next words out of your mouth better be the truth, or I won’t hesitate to kill you,” he rasps into your ear.
Think, think, think. How can you get out of this? What can you say to appease the man - no, the curse - that’s currently pinning you down?
As you’re trying to think of a way out of your current situation, he thrusts his hips up against you. The action, still done through two layers of cloth, forces another moan out of you.
Fuck, that feels good.
“I…I want you,” you whisper, the words leaving your lips before you can realize what you’ve said.
“Louder,” he commands.
“I want you,” you whine. “Please, Sukuna, please.”
Boisterous laughter fills the empty room again. Leaning back over you, he whispers into your ear. “Was that so hard?”
He steps back behind you, suddenly ripping your now-drenched panties into shreds, making you gasp as the cold air hits your heat. Finally free from the hold he had on your head, you turn your body slightly to look at him for the first time. In the candlelight, he looks haunting - tattoos outline the contours of his body, covering his face, arms, and chest, the flickering light casting shadows across the hollows of his scarlet eyes that are currently focused between your legs.
Sensing your gaze on him, he smirks. “Admire it while you can,” he says while lowering the waistband of his sweatpants to release his fully erect cock, a drip of precum leaking from the tip reflecting in the dim light. “Liars don’t get to watch while I fuck you.”
His arm shoots up to the back of your neck, pushing your face back down against the desk. The other goes to your pussy as he shoves two fingers roughly inside of you. Before you can even process the new sensation, you feel a tongue form on his hand and begin lapping up your folds. “F-fuck!” you scream, pressure suddenly forming in your stomach.
“So close already?” Sukuna chuckles from behind you. “I’ve barely even touched you, you needy little thing. Must’ve been waiting for this for a while, hmm?” he purrs. Your back involuntarily arches as your legs begin to shake. Right as you feel yourself approaching the edge of an orgasm, his hand pulls away from you. “Not so fast. You still have to learn some manners, remember?”
The hand that was previously on your neck moves to grab a fistful of your hair as the other grabs your waist, pulling your ass up into the air. You hear him adjusting himself behind you and your eyes widen as you feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance.
“Now, say my name, whore,” he barks at you.
“Sukuna-” you whimper.
“No.” He yanks your hair, pulling your head off the table.
You hesitate. You know what he’s asking for, but you also know you vowed to never, ever call him that.
“Say it,” he commands, voice stern.
As you contemplate your next words, Sukuna slowly starts sliding his cock inside of you. The sensation of your walls stretching around him, a mix of pain and pleasure, makes you whimper. 
Something in you needed more, and you only knew one way to get it. Fuck.
You take in a shaky breath, knowing what your brain has to do to get your body what it wants. “K-king…King of Curses.” Your voice waivers as the title leaves your mouth.
He smiles. “Good little sorcerer,” he hums. Suddenly, the hand on your hip grips you hard enough you can almost feel his nails breaking skin. He thrusts his hips forward, forcing the rest of his length inside you. Sukuna grunts as he enters you, relishing in the tight, warm grip you have around him. He pulls out of you before roughly shoving back in, tears welling in your eyes from sheer pleasure.
Pulling your hair further, he brings your body flush with his. “Now,” he growls into your ear, “let’s see if you can behave well enough to cum on my cock.”
The words alone have you dizzy, pussy clenching around him. You want to open your mouth, you want to scream, beg, do anything for him to let you finish, but something tells you to wait. He continues to pull out and thrust back in, his hips circling in rough, imprecise motions. The wet sounds of him pumping in and out of you fill the air, the noise so lewd you pray no one else happens to be walking past the library. You feel so full, his cock splitting you in half, and you still want more.
“Well?” he questions, breaking your silence. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“You…you didn’t say I could speak,” you respond meekly, trying to hold yourself together as he continues to thrust into you. Skin on skin, the sounds of his balls slapping against you, pelvis ramming against your ass, echoes through the room.
Once again, he laughs. “What a surprise, you really did learn your manners. What a well-trained slut you are,” he hums. You feel your core tighten again at his words. “For behaving so well, I’ll let you cum.”
Upon hearing his permission, something inside of you snaps. You throw your head back, moaning, as you tilt your hips to take him even farther inside of you. His tip pushes into that sweet spot, bringing you closer and closer to your release.
Finally, it hits. Your eyes roll back into your head, your mouth opens as a sound, somewhere between a scream and a groan, escapes your lips. The pain, the pleasure, the everything of Sukuna’s cock surges inside of you. He never relents, never slows, as your pussy twitches around him. Your legs give out and he releases your hair, letting your body drop to the desk beneath you.
Your head spins, vision clouded as you lay on the table. The first thing you feel is Sukuna pulling out of you and you whine at the empty feeling you’re left with. He walks toward you and leans over, face to face with him for the first time, his red eyes burning into yours.
“And that, little sorcerer, is why you can’t learn everything about me from a book,” his voice low. All you can do is stare at him, eyes glazed over. “Maybe next time you’ll earn my cum, if you can remember how to behave,” he smirks.
Without another word, he tucks his still hard cock under the waistband of his sweatpants and turns to walk away, presumably back to Yuji’s room. You’re left in the dimly lit library, panting, aching.
You may not know much about Sukuna, certainly not from your reading, but you do know one thing: you need more of him.
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5weekdays · 6 months
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some spy doodles i forgot to post
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waitineedaname · 1 year
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my inner monologue is just always thinking about ritsu way too hard
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