idk how to start this lmao,, i js wanted to yell a very loud thank you to everyone who was part of my journey on tumble. i wanted to let everybody know that i will no longer be active here.
i really enjoyed being on this platform tbh, i made hella friends and interacted w so many extraordinary figure. m not a big blog so i never got any serious hate (thankfully), and i feel like everyone i met here and everyone who had interacted with me was nothing but supportive even through my irregular posting schedule and my long unannounced hiatuses.
i feel like i've just been extremely overwhelmed with everything in my life lately. mostly study (ew.) i figured it's about time i take one thing off my head. i'm so happy i got the chance of being here. but i think this is the right decision for me tbh.
i'll keep this acc up for a while incase anyone came back to read my works but i'll prolly deactivate in a few months fr.
@/folkoftheshelf on Twitter has made a thread of fundraising links for Gazans. Iāve transferred the links here, please boost them as the conflict is worsening:
Help Ahmad Hassan and his family escape Gaza
Help Halla Morshedād family escape Gaza
Help Dr. Yousef Alsweisi and his family escape Gaza
Evacuate Sohadās family out of Gaza
Help Donia Tanani and her family escape Gaza (they are close to reaching their goal!!)
Help Zinh and her family escape Gaza (they are close to reaching their goal!!)
Help this Gazan family rebuild their lives (they are not close to their goal as of writing)
Help the Zack Family
Help Hala Jad and her family (they are at a 1/3 of their goal)
Help Walid and his family escape Gaza (they are close to reaching their goal!!)
Help Mariam Radi and her family (as of right now they are not close to reaching their goal)
Help Maha Abu Shammala evacuate the family from Gaza (they haven't met their goal as of writing)
Help Ronza Alaa and her family (they haven't met their goal as of writing)
Help Noor and her family evacuate to safety (they haven't met their goal as of writing)
Help Manar Abuqata get his family out of Gaza (goal hasn't been met as of writing)
Help Farah save her family
Help Ahmadās family escape from Gaza to Egypt
Help evacuate Mohammed Hararaās family out of Gaza (they are halfway through their goal!!)
Help Dana and her family escape (they have almost met their goal!!)
Help Anasā family escape from Gaza (goal has not been met as of writing, note that the money is in krona, 1 usd=11 krona)
Help Ibrahem Raāfat Daher and his family evacuate Gaza
Help Hakam Albalawi save his family (goal had not been met as of writing)
Help Tabseem AbuJamieās family evacuate (goal hasn't been met and only has two donations as of writing)
If you are actively silent against the racism that occurs in fandom spaces block me. Itās so much more than āprotecting your peaceā when you refuse to acknowledge and verbally condemn the racism that poc, ever more so it black people of color, face every day in these so called ācommunity spacesā
And please spare me the āI donāt know enough to speak on the topicā. What more do you need to know about racism and its negative impacts to speak on it? Also, if youāre afraid to write your own piece reblog post that say exactly what youāre trying to convey yourself.
Racism has never and will never just be āfandom discourseā.
When you see someone being called the N word, compared to monkeys, and told that they deserve slave treatment does that not disgust you enough to say something?
Just remember that your black followers and mutuals see how you respond always
Let me also add on that if you still willingly associate with, follow, or consume the work of individuals you know have been proven to be, with irrefutable proof, a racist, block me as well.
Youāre allowed to be friends with people who hold differing opinions than you, but NOT when it comes to fucking human rights and anti-racism
And before you try to argue that āyour views will never changeā
Let me further add on that if this post has triggered you in some way, shape, or form, or youāve just tried to justify someone to yourself when you know deep down you shouldnāt be interacting with them.
You know that means youāre probably in the wrong right?
in which; When your boyfriend has a problem he knows who to call! Can you fix it?
featuring: s.gojo x afab! reader
contains: masturbation, face time s3x , reader shows her br3asts over the camera, bathroom masturb@tion, pet names (babe, baby), reader being a tease, gojo being js a little bit subby
Satoru thinks of you all the time. He thinks of the new perfume you bought last week, of the pretty dress you wore to your last date. He thinks about how pretty you look when your hair is done all up, and about how sweet your voice sounds in this voice note you just sent him.
Fuck. Heās hard.
Can you blame him? You just woke up and for some inexplicable reason thought sending him a voice message while heās at work is a good idea. Do you not notice the way you sigh your half-coherent words? Do you not notice the way you sigh out your words, barely coherent? Satoru swears he can feel his ears tingling at the longing in your voice for him.
Youāre not making this at all easy.Ā
Just as you start to drift back to sleep, there's a buzz somewhere around your head. Curses slip from your lips as you grope around the duvet, trying to locate your device with your half-asleep senses. With your eyes barely open, you try to read the contact name.
Of course itās Satoru. Of course itās a facetime call. He canāt settle for a damned text. Itās his brand at this point. You appreciate the attention, of course. But youāre sure you told him youāre going back to sleep in that voice note.Ā
As soon as your finger swipes the little green icon to answer the call, you begin to speak, āI swear to god Satoru-ā
āHey baby,ā he cuts you off. It sounds like he's in a confined space. A toilet stall, maybe? You're too sleepy to dwell on it. āI missed youā
āMhmm..ā You yawn. āāMissed you tooā¦ā
The camera on his end is slightly shaky, and so is his breath. But in this sleepy state you can barely notice it really.
āWhat's up...?ā you ask, flipping over and adjusting the phone, āis everything okay?ā
āYeahāfuckāā his eyebrows furrow, giving you a moment of confusion. "You're looking so prettyāhahābaby."
āSatoruā¦ā realization dawns on you, excitement stirring within. āShow me.ā
The camera trembles as it takes him nearly a minute to respond to your request. Finally, his finger hits the flip camera button, giving you a shaky view of his fist wrapped around his length, stroking himself vigorously.Ā
Pearly precum oozes from his tip, a thumb moving to spread it slightly before he goes back at it again.
āOh? Is this all fāme?ā You grin, observing his subdued grunts. It would be such a shame if someone were to come into the bathroom right now. āThis early in the morning, too? Couldnāt you wait to get home at least?ā
āShā hahā shut up,ā he picks up the pace, starting from the very base, āat least make yourselfā useful.ā
Your tongue glides across your lower lip, considering your next move. While you love watching Satoru struggle on his own like this, relishing at the revelation that itās the thought of you that makes him like this, you also think a little assistance wouldnāt harm.Ā
āWhat do you wanna see?ā You smirk smugly, enjoying this ordeal.
āFuckā fuckā baby,ā heās quiet resilient with it, strokes increasing in pace little by little. āSh-show me your tits, baby.ā
āHmm? What if I donāt?ā Undeniably, youāre gonna regret this later. You savor the moment nonetheless. Thereās a certain sort of zest in the control you have over this moment.
āFuck you,ā his fist tightens around his dick, veins popping out. You love the view. God, you wish you were there to help. Your thighs tighten to squelch the heat growing in your core. āPlease, baby, āwanna see my girlās prettyā shitā titsā
Thatās enough to convince you. More than enough, actually. Without hesitation, you lift your t-shirt up, showing him a view that nearly makes him faint. He can almost feel the warmth of your skin against his. He feels his climax reaching. You move your fingers, massaging your breast. That was his endgame.
A string of curses begins to slip past his lips, along with a grunted āIām gonna- fuck- I'm gonna cum-ā
Your grin widens, biting your lower lip. āMhmā¦ so hard for me, āToru..? Wish I was there to helpā¦ā Your words come out stretched, all on purpose. It causes a robust groan to thunder through him. The view begins to totter. With a final groan, milky robes seep out of Storuās shaft, running down his white knuckles and onto his thighs. His breathes even out as he comes down from his high.
āYouāre welcome,ā you hum, satisfied. You put the phone to your side, pulling your shirt back down. When you picked the phone back up, the call was hung up. You almost feel offended, rushing to text him a āwhat the fuck?ā
Before you could text him the half-angry message, your phone vibrates again.
āsorry babe someone came inā - 8:46 amĀ
āill call u laterā - 8:46 am
ālove yaā - 8:47 am
You roll your eyes, definitely planning on bringing this up later. Going back to sleep will be hard with the stain on your underwear.Ā
Maybe youāre going to be the one to call this time so he could fix it.
in which: the king of curses left you the moment you announce your pregnancy to him. but after nearly losing you... he might be having a change of heart
contains: very slight objectification of reader, reader is a half-curse, mentions of injury and near-death experience, reader is pregnant, slight mention of pregnancy sex, sukuna is really ooc tbh
A/N: yall really wanted soft sukuna lmao. i js wanted to write something more in my own style instead of the tumblr style. It's all over the place really, also obv trueform! sukuna.
w.c : 1.6k
āSukuna-sama?ā Your voice comes out a breathy whisper, barely audible.
āDoā ugh,ā The pink-haired curse sighs. āDonāt call me that. And donāt make me repeat myself.ā
You havenāt known Sukuna to be tender. Actually, scratch that. You used to genuinely believe he mistook the adjective for an affront. He probably still does, despite the sheer softness of his actions. His mind is a marvel far beyond your, or anyone else's, comprehension. And if Sukuna hasnāt always been complicated, his sudden switch of behavior recently has renderedĀ unriddling the complex being that he is even harder.
āI donāt fucking know,ā he snaps back. Itās enough to bring you silence, the somber tone he uses coming with a sense of finality.Ā
Rough callouses are surprisingly gentle against your fleshācallouses that slap, bruise, grope, but never caress. Despite that, he pulls your underwear up your thighs with utter care. If you didnāt know any better, you might even dare call his actions delicate.
āDoes it hurt?ā He reminisces. Curious digits stroke your lower abdomen and across the swell of your belly, where an ugly scar sits. It decorates your skin with a long, uneven line of dried blood cells.
āItās not too bad,ā You assure, daring to test your luck by bringing your own hand to his hair. It causes the king of curses to pause. His ember eyes continue to stare at your scar, unable to swat your hand away for some reason. The wooden floor beneath him feels too cold. Or he feels too hot. Heās unsure.
In the dimness of the room, there is no light but the flickering glow emitted from the fire, ensconced within a cage of brickāa fireplace, by name. Yet, the warmth that enfolds you does not excrete solely from the flames. It originates from within, a pulsating heat that comes with the beat of your heart as a large palm finds your shoulder, urging you forward with an urgency that seems to echo through the very fibers of your being.
āWhat about this one?āHis intense glare persists, averting your demure gaze. Never before have you witnessed him in such a state, making you wonder whether this demeanor is a consequence of recent events.
āItās fine, I promise,ā Your whispered words cause his gaze to harden even further, his thumb tracing over another, deeper cut nestled in the valley between your breasts. This one could have been fatal. The realization sends a shiver down his spine, unsettling him to his core. Sukuna, the ancient and ruthless curse, has borne witness to countless horrors in his long existence, inflicted unspeakable cruelty upon countless souls, but none have shaken him to his core quite like seeing you teetering on the brink of death. The memory stirs within him an unfamiliar sense of disquiet, a realization that his desires may have consequences far more profound than he ever anticipated.
The brawny curse grunts in response, opting to continue examining the scar. Heās careful to not stretch it as your human flesh would hurt.Ā
Sukunaās agenda never included leaving a child within you. It never even crossed his mind. Such muses were not to be entertained, especially not with you.
You. Yeah, you who doesn't try to kill humans simply for the pleasure it brings. You who takes life so lightly, as if you have several souls to spare. You who accepts every word Sukuna says as an indisputable fact, every order executed before he has a chance to reconsider.
You, who has shared your bed with the strongest curse more times than he cares to count, always intrigued himāan enigmatic subject for his manipulations. You, who confided in him the startling revelation that your half-cursed body now nurtures a growing fetus.
At first, Sukuna swore he'd never visit you again, adamant in his belief that he wanted no involvement in your pregnancy, leaving you to navigate the situation alone. Despite his capability to end your life without hesitation, he chose to spare you. Sukuna granted you a reprieve under the condition that he never crosses paths with you or whatever child you carry. He told himself time and time again that you would be a rather boring kill, not worth the effort. But it wasn't about the difficulty of ending your lifeāit was an excuse. He'd never admit that he doesn't want your blood staining his hands
Sukuna swears heās not soft, that he doesnāt care for you at all.But the notion of being the one who brings you to your end does not enthrall him in the least.
He doesnāt care for the inferior likes of you, he reminds himself. Thatās absurd. Itās laughable. Itās offensive, even. He doesnāt ācareā, Itās simply curiosity that keeps him around. Curious of what kind of child the one you carry would come out to be. To see if theyād be worthy of being called his kin or not.
āYouāre leaving, arenāt you?ā Your voice is dulcet, a melody that cuts his train of thought smoothly. Unlike anything heās ever heard before. Thereās a pleading tone, a need so urgent it's almost painful. He finds pleasure in that. Your perpetual longing for him, your unwavering loyalty even after his defeat by sorcerers the first time aroundāyou kept him close like a devoted guardian to a fallen hero, even when you knew is anything but a hero. It's a power unlike any otherāstaying but not out of fear, it's a choice. A strong belief.
Balancing on his knees between her parted legs, he reaches out, his fingers finding purchase on the edge of the bed. His grip tightens instinctively, fingers slipping beneath the hem of the sheet as he steadies himself. With a controlled effort, he pushes upward, leveraging the bed for support as he rises to his feet
āWhy do you ask questions you know the answer to?ā He muses, his towering frame looking down at you. The flickering flames of the fire, their orange hues swirling and weaving a macabre tapestry around his countenance, lend him an aura of terror that would instill fear in any who behold him. Yet, unlike others, you find his presence strangely comforting. Despite the aura of terror he exudes, you've grown accustomed to it, finding solace in his formidable presence now more than ever before.
Your only reaction is to chew on the inside of your cheek, careful to not bite the fiber too hard. Thereās an ambivalent air to him, remaining motionless as he towers over you. It seems as if heās looking for something. Anything. He wants a reason to stay, but he canāt seem to find one satisfying enough.
He owes you nothing. But when you look at him like thatā¦ Heās never been one to falter at your pleading face, but perhaps heās changing little by little. He staunchly refuses to acknowledge this change still, for him to do so would be an admission of vulnerability, a humiliation he cannot bear, even to himself. How he yearns for the willpower to end you, to push you away so you never obstruct his way like this again.
The worst part of it all is his acute awareness of why he feels so strongly now. He knows that itās all him, and not at all you. He can pinpoint the exact moment he regret leaving your side. The memory is seared into his very core.Ā
He wishes he could forget, to erase the haunting image of you, wounded and bleeding, from his mind.Ā
It was when he came back a few days after his departure, for reasons he canāt recall, only to be greeted by the sight of a malevolent curse looming over you, hungry and poised to make you its next meal. He shouldnāt have intervened. It's the natural orderāa relentless cycle where only the strongest survive, preying upon the weaker. He knows he's no exception. Nor are you.
But seeing you sprawled out on the floor, barely intact, with his child inside of you.Ā
He gulps at the memory, feeling an overwhelming urge to touch you once more, to make sure youāre not some figment of his imagination. To keep you from harm. Youāre so stupid, so goddamn naive. He doesnāt know what to make of you. Other than a fucking headache.
āWhat is it? What do you want, brat?ā He hopes to catch some semblance of his normal attitude. āGet it over with.ā
āPlease stay,ā You plead, fingers gently gripping the open kimono he had thrown on once finished with you. āPlease, Sukuna-sama.ā
He sighs. Youāre so obstinate.
Perhaps it's his lack of understanding that breeds hesitation within him, or perhaps it's his inherently fierce nature. A thing like you deserves to be treated with the utmost delicacy, cherished and nurtured. Sukuna, with his staunch commitment solely to his ideals, can never be the one assuming such a role for you.
āYouāre doing things to me, you know?ā Sukuna gets down, kneeling between your parted legs again, placing a warm palm in either side of your hips and seizing you within.
Maybeā¦ staying with you tonight wasnāt such a ludicrous notion. Heās the king of curses; heĀ has all the time in the world to fret the trivial details.
Jesus Christ, minors have become so fucking cocky and self-centred recently.
It feels like every time I open up a +18 tag or go into an adult fandom space, there's all these actual kids running around, telling people they're minors.
I could be wanting to read a smut fic and I'll see a bunch of posts with the text "minor writing smut, don't like, DNI" or something like that.
How fucking stupid are you? Genuine question. Are your grades okay? Do you need to talk to the school counselor? Take a common sense test? Because I certainly think so.
Why are you entering and actively taking part in adult spaces and then using the "umm I'm a minor, so if you do or say anything, then I'm the victim and you need to get away from me, you creep" card when you get called out on your bullshit?
These adult spaces are not for you, GET THE FUCK OUT! Go sit in the corner and think about what you've done!
Teens will teen. They'll find adult material one way or another, I am fully aware of that. Hell, I'm guilty of reading smut when I was a teen. But when I did, I never told a soul.
I've had accounts run by minors as young as 13-14 interacting with my NSFW posts. And they're somehow bragging about this. Of course, I block them immediately, but I am shocked at how brazen these kids are, to have the gall to do this and think it's okay because "they're mature enough."
No. You're not. I promise you.
Becoming an adult isn't about reaching some arbitrary number. It's about learning to take responsibility for your actions. So take this advice and GET THE FUCK OUT OF ADULT SPACES! YOU'RE NOT WELCOME!
I don't care how much anon hate you kids send my way to try and get me to kms or deactivate. By all means, give me your best shot. But if you seriously think I am going to just let you do this without realising your actions have consequences, you need to be sent to the psych ward across town.
in which: the king of curses left you the moment you announce your pregnancy to him. but after nearly losing you... he might be having a change of heart
contains: very slight objectification of reader, reader is a half-curse, mentions of injury and near-death experience, reader is pregnant, slight mention of pregnancy sex, sukuna is really ooc tbh
A/N: yall really wanted soft sukuna lmao. i js wanted to write something more in my own style instead of the tumblr style. It's all over the place really
w.c : 1.6k
Sukuna-sama?ā Your voice comes out a breathy whisper, barely audible.
āDoā ugh,ā The pink-haired curse sighs. āDonāt call me that. And donāt make me repeat myself.ā
You havenāt known Sukuna to be tender. Actually, scratch that. You used to genuinely believe he mistook the adjective for an affront. He probably still does, despite the sheer softness of his actions. His mind is a marvel far beyond your, or anyone else's, comprehension. And if Sukuna hasnāt always been complicated, his sudden switch of behavior recently has renderedĀ unriddling the complex being that he is even harderĀ
āI donāt know,ā he snaps back. Itās enough to bring you silence, the somber tone he uses coming with a sense of finality.Ā
Rough calluses are surprisingly gentle against your fleshācalluses that slap, bruise, grope, but never caress. Despite that, he pulls your underwear up your thighs with utter care. If you didnāt know any better, you might even dare to call it delicate.
āDoes it hurt?ā He reminisces. Curious digits stroke your lower abdomen and across the swell of your belly where an ugly scar sits, decorating your skin with a long, uneven line of dried blood cells.
āItās not too bad,ā You assure, daring to test your luck, bringing your own hand to his hair. It causes the king of curses to pause. His ember eyes continue to stare at your scar, unable to swat your hand away for some reason. The wooden floor beneath him feels too cold. Or he feels too dot. Heās unsure.
"In the dimness of the room, there is no light but the flickering glow emitted from the fire, ensconced within a cage of brickāa fireplace, by name. Yet, the warmth that enfolds you does not excrete solely from the flames. It originates from within, a pulsating heat that comes with the beat of your heart as a large palm finds your shoulder, urging you forward with an urgency that seems to echo through the very fibers of your being.
āWhat about this one?āHis intense glare persists, averting your demure gaze. Never before have you witnessed him in such a state, making you wonder whether this demeanor is a consequence of recent events
āItās fine, I promise,ā Your whispered words cause his gaze to harden even further, his thumb tracing over another, deeper cut nestled in the valley between your breasts. This one could have been fatal. The realization sends a shiver down his spine, unsettling him to his core. Sukuna, the ancient and ruthless curse, has borne witness to countless horrors in his long existence, inflicted unspeakable cruelty upon countless souls, but none have shaken him to his core quite like seeing you teetering on the brink of death. The memory stirs within him an unfamiliar sense of disquiet, a realization that his desires may have consequences far more profound than he ever anticipated.
The brawny curse grunts in response, opting to continue examining the scar. Heās careful to not stretch it as your human flesh would hurt.Ā
Sukunaās agenda never included leaving a child within you. It never even crossed his mind. Such muses were not to be entertained, especially not with you.
You. Yeah, you who doesn't try to kill humans simply for the pleasure it brings. You who takes life so lightly, as if you have several souls to spare. You who accepts every word Sukuna says as an indisputable fact, every order executed before he has a chance to reconsider.
You, who've shared your bed with curses more times than he cares to count, always intrigued himāan enigmatic subject for his manipulations. You, who confided in him the startling revelation that your half-cursed body now nurtures a growing fetus.
At first, Sukuna swore he'd never visit you again, adamant in his belief that he wanted no involvement in your pregnancy, leaving you to navigate the situation alone. Despite his capability to end your life without hesitation, he chose to spare you. Sukuna granted you a reprieve under the condition that he never crosses paths with you or whatever child you carry. He told himself time and time again that you would be a rather boring kill, not worth the effort. But it wasn't about the difficulty of ending your lifeāit was an excuse. He'd never admit that he doesn't want your blood staining his hands
Sukuna swears heās not soft, that he doesnāt care for you at all.But the notion of being the one who brings you to your end does not enthrall him in the least.
He doesnāt care for the inferior likes of you, he reminds himself. Thatās absurd. Itās laughable. Itās offensive, even. He doesnāt ācareā, Itās simply curiosity that keeps him around. Curious of what kind of child the one you carry would come out to be. To see if theyād be worthy of being called his kin or not.
āYouāre leaving, arenāt you?ā Your voice is dulcet, a melody that cuts his train of thought smoothly. Unlike anything heās ever heard before. Thereās a pleading tone, a need so urgent it's almost painful. He finds pleasure in that. Your perpetual longing for him, your unwavering loyalty even after his defeat by sorcerers the first time aroundāyou kept him close like a devoted guardian to a fallen hero, even when you knew is anything but a heroIt's a power unlike any otherānot of fear, but of choice, in choosing his path.
Balancing on his knees between her parted legs, he reaches out, his fingers finding purchase on the edge of the bed. His grip tightens instinctively, fingers slipping beneath the hem of the sheet as he steadies himself. With a controlled effort, he pushes upward, leveraging the bed for support as he rises to his feet
āWhy do you ask questions you know the answer to?ā He muses, his towering frame casting menacing shadows that dance across his chiseled features. The flickering flames of the fire, their orange hues swirling and weaving a macabre tapestry around his countenance, lend him an aura of terror that would instill fear in any who behold him. Yet, unlike others, you find his presence strangely comforting. Despite the aura of terror he exudes, you've grown accustomed to it, finding solace in his formidable presence now more than ever before.
Your only reaction is to chew on the inside of your cheek, careful to not bite the fiber too hard. Thereās an ambivalent air to him, remaining motionless as he towers over you. It seems as if heās looking for something. Anything. He wants a reason to stay, but he canāt seem to find one satisfying enough.
He owes you nothing. But when you look at him like thatā¦ Heās never been one to falter at your pleading face, but perhaps heās changing little by little. He staunchly refuses to acknowledge this change still, for him to do so would be an admission of vulnerability, a humiliation he cannot bear, even to himself. How he yearns for the willpower to end you, to push you away so you never obstruct his way like this again.
The worst part of it all is his acute awareness of why he feels so strongly now. He knows that itās all him, and not at all you. He can pinpoint the exact moment he regret leaving your house. The memory is seared into his very core.Ā
He wishes he could forget, to erase the haunting image of you, wounded and bleeding, from his mind.Ā
It was when he came back a few days after his departure, for reasons he canāt recall. Only to be greeted by the sight of a malevolent curse looming over you, hungry and poised to make you its next meal. He shouldnāt have intervened. It's the natural orderāa relentless cycle where only the strongest survive, preying upon the weaker. He knows he's no exception. Nor are you.
But seeing you sprawled out on the floor, barely intact, with his child inside of you.Ā
He gulps at the memory, feeling an overwhelming urge to touch you once more, to make sure youāre not some figment of his imagination. To keep you from harm. Youāre so stupid, so goddamn naive. He doesnāt know what to make of you. Other than a headache.
āWhat is it? What do you want, brat?ā He hopes to catch some semblance of his normal attitude. āGet it over with.ā
āPlease stay,ā You plead, fingers gently gripping the open kimono he had thrown on once finished with you. āPlease, Sukuna-sama.ā
He sighs. Youāre so obstinate.
Perhaps it's his lack of understanding that breeds hesitation within him, or perhaps it's his inherently fierce nature. A thing like you deserves to be treated with the utmost delicacy, cherished and nurtured. Sukuna, with his staunch commitment solely to his ideals, can never be the one assuming such a role for you.
āYouāre doing things to me, you know?ā Sukuna gets down, kneeling between your parted legs again, placing a warm palm in either side of your hips and seizing you within.
Maybeā¦ staying with you tonight wasnāt such a ludicrous notion. Heās the king of curses; heĀ has all the time in the world to fret the trivial details.
in which: the king of curses left you the moment you announce your pregnancy to him. but after nearly losing you... he might be having a change of heart
contains: very slight objectification of reader, reader is a half-curse, mentions of injury and near-death experience, reader is pregnant, slight mention of pregnancy sex, sukuna is really ooc tbh
A/N: yall really wanted soft sukuna lmao. i js wanted to write something more in my own style instead of the tumblr style. It's all over the place really, also obv trueform! sukuna.
w.c : 1.6k
āSukuna-sama?ā Your voice comes out a breathy whisper, barely audible.
āDoā ugh,ā The pink-haired curse sighs. āDonāt call me that. And donāt make me repeat myself.ā
You havenāt known Sukuna to be tender. Actually, scratch that. You used to genuinely believe he mistook the adjective for an affront. He probably still does, despite the sheer softness of his actions. His mind is a marvel far beyond your, or anyone else's, comprehension. And if Sukuna hasnāt always been complicated, his sudden switch of behavior recently has renderedĀ unriddling the complex being that he is even harder.
āI donāt fucking know,ā he snaps back. Itās enough to bring you silence, the somber tone he uses coming with a sense of finality.Ā
Rough callouses are surprisingly gentle against your fleshācallouses that slap, bruise, grope, but never caress. Despite that, he pulls your underwear up your thighs with utter care. If you didnāt know any better, you might even dare call his actions delicate.
āDoes it hurt?ā He reminisces. Curious digits stroke your lower abdomen and across the swell of your belly, where an ugly scar sits. It decorates your skin with a long, uneven line of dried blood cells.
āItās not too bad,ā You assure, daring to test your luck by bringing your own hand to his hair. It causes the king of curses to pause. His ember eyes continue to stare at your scar, unable to swat your hand away for some reason. The wooden floor beneath him feels too cold. Or he feels too hot. Heās unsure.
In the dimness of the room, there is no light but the flickering glow emitted from the fire, ensconced within a cage of brickāa fireplace, by name. Yet, the warmth that enfolds you does not excrete solely from the flames. It originates from within, a pulsating heat that comes with the beat of your heart as a large palm finds your shoulder, urging you forward with an urgency that seems to echo through the very fibers of your being.
āWhat about this one?āHis intense glare persists, averting your demure gaze. Never before have you witnessed him in such a state, making you wonder whether this demeanor is a consequence of recent events.
āItās fine, I promise,ā Your whispered words cause his gaze to harden even further, his thumb tracing over another, deeper cut nestled in the valley between your breasts. This one could have been fatal. The realization sends a shiver down his spine, unsettling him to his core. Sukuna, the ancient and ruthless curse, has borne witness to countless horrors in his long existence, inflicted unspeakable cruelty upon countless souls, but none have shaken him to his core quite like seeing you teetering on the brink of death. The memory stirs within him an unfamiliar sense of disquiet, a realization that his desires may have consequences far more profound than he ever anticipated.
The brawny curse grunts in response, opting to continue examining the scar. Heās careful to not stretch it as your human flesh would hurt.Ā
Sukunaās agenda never included leaving a child within you. It never even crossed his mind. Such muses were not to be entertained, especially not with you.
You. Yeah, you who doesn't try to kill humans simply for the pleasure it brings. You who takes life so lightly, as if you have several souls to spare. You who accepts every word Sukuna says as an indisputable fact, every order executed before he has a chance to reconsider.
You, who has shared your bed with the strongest curse more times than he cares to count, always intrigued himāan enigmatic subject for his manipulations. You, who confided in him the startling revelation that your half-cursed body now nurtures a growing fetus.
At first, Sukuna swore he'd never visit you again, adamant in his belief that he wanted no involvement in your pregnancy, leaving you to navigate the situation alone. Despite his capability to end your life without hesitation, he chose to spare you. Sukuna granted you a reprieve under the condition that he never crosses paths with you or whatever child you carry. He told himself time and time again that you would be a rather boring kill, not worth the effort. But it wasn't about the difficulty of ending your lifeāit was an excuse. He'd never admit that he doesn't want your blood staining his hands
Sukuna swears heās not soft, that he doesnāt care for you at all.But the notion of being the one who brings you to your end does not enthrall him in the least.
He doesnāt care for the inferior likes of you, he reminds himself. Thatās absurd. Itās laughable. Itās offensive, even. He doesnāt ācareā, Itās simply curiosity that keeps him around. Curious of what kind of child the one you carry would come out to be. To see if theyād be worthy of being called his kin or not.
āYouāre leaving, arenāt you?ā Your voice is dulcet, a melody that cuts his train of thought smoothly. Unlike anything heās ever heard before. Thereās a pleading tone, a need so urgent it's almost painful. He finds pleasure in that. Your perpetual longing for him, your unwavering loyalty even after his defeat by sorcerers the first time aroundāyou kept him close like a devoted guardian to a fallen hero, even when you knew is anything but a hero. It's a power unlike any otherāstaying but not out of fear, it's a choice. A strong belief.
Balancing on his knees between her parted legs, he reaches out, his fingers finding purchase on the edge of the bed. His grip tightens instinctively, fingers slipping beneath the hem of the sheet as he steadies himself. With a controlled effort, he pushes upward, leveraging the bed for support as he rises to his feet
āWhy do you ask questions you know the answer to?ā He muses, his towering frame looking down at you. The flickering flames of the fire, their orange hues swirling and weaving a macabre tapestry around his countenance, lend him an aura of terror that would instill fear in any who behold him. Yet, unlike others, you find his presence strangely comforting. Despite the aura of terror he exudes, you've grown accustomed to it, finding solace in his formidable presence now more than ever before.
Your only reaction is to chew on the inside of your cheek, careful to not bite the fiber too hard. Thereās an ambivalent air to him, remaining motionless as he towers over you. It seems as if heās looking for something. Anything. He wants a reason to stay, but he canāt seem to find one satisfying enough.
He owes you nothing. But when you look at him like thatā¦ Heās never been one to falter at your pleading face, but perhaps heās changing little by little. He staunchly refuses to acknowledge this change still, for him to do so would be an admission of vulnerability, a humiliation he cannot bear, even to himself. How he yearns for the willpower to end you, to push you away so you never obstruct his way like this again.
The worst part of it all is his acute awareness of why he feels so strongly now. He knows that itās all him, and not at all you. He can pinpoint the exact moment he regret leaving your side. The memory is seared into his very core.Ā
He wishes he could forget, to erase the haunting image of you, wounded and bleeding, from his mind.Ā
It was when he came back a few days after his departure, for reasons he canāt recall, only to be greeted by the sight of a malevolent curse looming over you, hungry and poised to make you its next meal. He shouldnāt have intervened. It's the natural orderāa relentless cycle where only the strongest survive, preying upon the weaker. He knows he's no exception. Nor are you.
But seeing you sprawled out on the floor, barely intact, with his child inside of you.Ā
He gulps at the memory, feeling an overwhelming urge to touch you once more, to make sure youāre not some figment of his imagination. To keep you from harm. Youāre so stupid, so goddamn naive. He doesnāt know what to make of you. Other than a fucking headache.
āWhat is it? What do you want, brat?ā He hopes to catch some semblance of his normal attitude. āGet it over with.ā
āPlease stay,ā You plead, fingers gently gripping the open kimono he had thrown on once finished with you. āPlease, Sukuna-sama.ā
He sighs. Youāre so obstinate.
Perhaps it's his lack of understanding that breeds hesitation within him, or perhaps it's his inherently fierce nature. A thing like you deserves to be treated with the utmost delicacy, cherished and nurtured. Sukuna, with his staunch commitment solely to his ideals, can never be the one assuming such a role for you.
āYouāre doing things to me, you know?ā Sukuna gets down, kneeling between your parted legs again, placing a warm palm in either side of your hips and seizing you within.
Maybeā¦ staying with you tonight wasnāt such a ludicrous notion. Heās the king of curses; heĀ has all the time in the world to fret the trivial details.
Mona, my contact in Rafah right now, has just survived an air strike while distributing food parcels that were created thanks to your donations. She and her brothers who were also distributing the food were very nearly hit. Alhamdulillah for everything.
When I asked her if anyone was killed by this air strike, she told me Alhamdulillah no one was hit. It's possible she just meant from her relatives present there, but I'm going to take it to mean no one was killed at all, until we hear more news. She's very tired and works very hard to distribute our donations. If you want to send her a kind message, letting her know you care - in English or in Arabic - leave it as a reply or as a reblog comment or as a bunch of tags or in my inbox (if inbox, specify that it's for Mona) and I will send it to her. Our donations are important but they're nothing without her work, and most importantly her well-being and safety.
