#and fear is a primal instinct

[sandersontheside]

I don’t think we talk enough about how powerful Virgil is.

Janus was never able to conceal Virgil from Thomas like he did the other dark sides. Janus kept Remus (an entire half of Thomas’s creativity!) and (presumably) whatever the orange side is repressed. Thomas is able to lie to himself about those things, to pretend they're not there, to ignore them.

But Virgil is different. Anxiety and fear are loud and overpowering, it is almost impossible not to listen to them. No matter how hard you try to deny it, that voice is always there in the back of your mind. Even when panic makes you believe it's rational and based in reality, you're still aware of it, in the sweat on your palms and the feeling of your throat closing up.

Virgil is even the reason Remus is scary. Intrusive thoughts on their own can be graphic and unsettling, but what makes them so distressing is the fear of acting on those darker thoughts, the feeling that having them makes you a bad person. The fear is based on Patton's judgement on what makes someone good or bad, of course, but it's still a fear, which ultimately comes from Virgil.

Virgil has a LOT of control over Thomas, more than most of the other sides, dark and light. We see it when Virgil is the one who stops Thomas from going out, or has to be the one to let him talk to Nico, or when Patton asks, panicked "Virgil, what do we do?" even though he was listening to Logan a second ago, or the fact that Virgil "lets up" right before Thomas goes on stage--if he didn't, would Roman be able to get Thomas to perform? Or would Thomas have stage fright? I kind of think it would be the latter.

I think Logan is maybe the only one with power over Virgil, because logical reasoning is one of the best ways to work through anxiety, and because Logan is the only side that can't ever be ignored, or go away completely, as we saw in Moving On.

tl;dr: If Virgil doesn't want Thomas to do something, Roman and Patton can't make him do it. Janus can't keep Virgil hidden. He makes the other dark sides scary. Thomas' anxiety has a huge amount of influence over him, his actions, and his thought processes.

[clownsuu]

So I saw your Robbie character and wanted to do a quick sketch of him with my oc! Enjoy!

LMAOOO they both really chose violence-

[pipperoo]

i think transforming into a werewolf would fix me

[lawful-evil-novelist]

My brain just has this moment, the first and only proper moment Scarecrow enters the fray in the first Arkham Files fic, where it's just Jason and Cass in the warehouse, Cass is POV, they can hear Bruce hyperventilating behind them, suffering from acute fear toxin poisoning, and then this ragged, patchwork facsimile of a man drops from the catwalks, a rusty scythe slung over one shoulder, arms almost too limp, walking in a shambling half-step, and Cass comes to the realization that this man's movements are perfectly controlled, and she is having a sinking, dreadful feeling of familiarity.

[crimeronan]

OBVIOUSLY codependent fuckery is what i associate with you. but also - and you'll recognize this as an honor - you're my gold standard for fucked up horror shit? whenever i feel like i need to dial it up, it's you and Stephen King as like, the angel and devil on my shoulders

oh all of this is a GREAT honor. being put in the same category as stephen king is making me giggle a lot. he was actually the first horror novelist i ever regularly read! & prior to me reading him, my mom would retell the plots of his books to me n my sister in ways that made us keep the lights on FJDJDJ

just a pair of little guys from new england who love to say "what if was both scary AND really stupid. also all the trees in maine and new hampshire are haunted."

[void-damned]

Thoughts on the marking process. When do you think the other marked except Corvo and Emily got the mark of the outsider?

Thoughts? I have a lot of those!

First of all, the Outsider gives his Mark to people who seem to be at a low point in their life and who possess the drive and the opportunity to cause change in the world. But not all live up to those expectations - the Outsider seeks interest but as we all know, the paths are endless and they are not linear. Where Fate shall ultimately take his Marked is unknown. And he seems quite fond of gambling with that, high risk-high reward style.

We know of Marked like Corvo, Emily, Daud, and Delilah, all who caused great ruckus in the world, whose paths diverge and converge, change with the slightest actions. But their impact is felt heavily.

We know of Marked, who merely are, who might have had potential but became quite dull or too much, such as Granny Rags.

But we also know of Marked who had barely stirred much talk if any at all. I would say that the Lonely Rat Boy is one of them but I also like to think that he might have contributed to the spread of the plague. Others are barely mentioned.

Chronologically, we can speak of an almost clear timeline, actually:

(Potentially Daud's mother, who would have been marked circa 1790 before Daud's birth)

The Unknown rune-carving woman, marked c. 1800—3

Vera Moray, neé Dbhghoill, marked c. 1807—10

Daud, marked c. 1820

Delilah Kaldwin, born Copperspoon, marked 1831

The Lonely Rat Boy, marked 1835

Corvo Attano, marked 1837

Emily Kaldwin, marked 1852

Another potentially marked person, who'd have been marked around the same time as either Corvo or the Lonely Rat Boy, is one of the noble attendees of the Boyle party in DH1. If you point the Heart at the woman (chosen at random by RNG, I believe), the Heart tells you this:

"She had to dismiss the maid-servant who saw the Mark of the Outsider, branded on her back."

Either we are talking about the real thing or perhaps, as the gossip around the party went, someone who'd worshipped and prayed to the Outsider, enough to brand themselves as Zhukov and the Cultists did.

In any case, all years are more or less confirmed - however, we do not have much info on the when-circumstances other than Corvo and Emily. Vera, according to the Dunwall Archives, had been marked on her journey to Pandyssia, seeking the occult and religious practices native to the lands. We can only wonder just what she had witnessed and how the Outsider eventually approached her but whatever she went through, and whatever she saw, came at the cost of her vision and kickstarted her instability and steady decline into madness. With how men had begged for her, she might have had the potential to unmake the entire Empire. And wouldn't that be fun to watch? (But Vera had strayed from her path.)

Daud is said to have been marked after scouring the Isles and seeking out the Outsider's shrines. If there was ever any obsession, I would say it was the yearning for power and wishing for survival, yet with craving for blood - Daud had been a mercenary for hire since his young age. Who's to say that what ultimately lead to Jessamine's death wasn't a part of his resentment and thirst for revenge after what had been done to him as a child? He had inadvertently set things into motion but came to regret his actions - maybe he had realised he had become someone who he had fought his whole life against.

Delilah was at her worst. Young and so full of anger and despair. 'He came to us in 1831,' she whispers to you. She begun her apprenticeship under Sokolov in 1828 but perhaps the Outsider's Mark was the last push she needed (or maybe he merely wanted to spite Sokolov by marking her, who knows) - she learnt how to weave the Void into her art to get what she wants. The life she was always promised. And one she would make real one day, through the blood of her blood and flesh of her flesh. Even if it meant destroying everything in her path.

The Lonely Rat Boy was marked at the beginning of the plague. Of course he would be the target of all the adults who had immediately written him off for death. Another case of being wronged and being angry, of seeing revenge. And survival. But the boy had burned through his gifts immediately and paid the price too soon.

And the rest, we can only hypothetise as there are no accounts other than the bone-carving woman whose son's journal we get to read. Her story was of survival too, of running away from the Abbeymen that had pursued them.

The Outsider really is just someone tapping at the glass surface separating the waking world and the Void, like it is merely water surface and he (and his Marked) is creating ripples. To see what will happen and what people are capable of. Whatever happens, happens. He's there just to observe the human nature and how power shapes men when they are given access to it.

(And what of Morris Sullivan, you might ask? I believe his teacher, Vera, had merely shared some power with him in the same way Daud shared his through an Arcane Bond or Delilah had. But we can see him being immune to Bend Time, which oof.)

[nacrelysis]

you've heard of the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny, now get ready for monoceros caeli: ultimate smackdown of ultimate proportions

[oatm3al-c00kies]

meant to post this forever ago but here we r SO:

if i hear one more person say something about feminine rage in relation to ellie killing david i might riot. that was not “feminine rage”. that was fear and adrenaline and maybe definitely some hatred, but don’t erase the fact that she was fucking terrified in that scene because i feel like as ppl are talking about “ooh feminine rage she was so powerful you go girl” they’re also not talking about the fact that this might not have felt like a super empowering moment for her and it wasn’t really an active choice. like yeah maybe it turned into rage once she knew he wouldn't be able hurt her again, but it did Not start as anger or rage and i stand by that. it started as a little girl scared for her life and knowing that if she hit him hard enough and enough times he wouldn't be able to hurt her and she might be able to make it out alive. she wasnt like... fuming in that scene or after it, she was still scared. the close up we get of her face at the end of it? she looks horrified and in shock at what almost just happened and what she did. like yes i’m all for the rage and revenge and the fact that she was able to fucking destroy the shit out of david because he deserves that and worse but also... it was self defense. that wasn’t a conscious choice based solely on rage it was also based on terror.

[supurman]

clark by all means was raised human, but at the end of the day he is an alien. what he does every day in public is second nature mimicry and masking of his true kryptonian nature. he has watched humans as child to an adult to react in ways they would. keep in mind kryptonians are not only a different species, but also millennia more ahead in evolution than humans so his instincts differ than humans, behaviors, etc. while it doesnt exhaust him to act so human since hes been doing it as a child, it does when hes stressed or bothered. when clark becomes more stressed he tends to act more alien than human in privacy. he will float around more than he walks, he doesnt sleep for days, doesnt eat for days, and prefers to be in areas that wont break so easily ( such as his fortress ).

ultimately what im trying to say here is clarks human behavior is mimicry! he is a alien and always will be.

[monstriiss]

im actually crying at cursed human drath feeling, for the very first time, what it is like to be a prey animal and have that deep, full body shiver, the chilling feeling when you know you are being hunted and she acts like she’s crawling out of her skin because wHAT THE FUCK IS THAT-

[supernovacat]

There is not a thought in his mind except, "oh sh!t"

Also recently experienced my own "oh sh!t" moment, I fell while playing pickle ball and hit my head on a brick wall (literally). Thankfully, I was just brused and had no concussion, mostly because I hit the floor first and slid into the wall. My brain definitely considered it a near death experience, I had a moment of clarity between hitting the floor and the wall. Where I knew I was about to hit the wall and my head, and I really did think, "Uh oh." I think I braced my back and sholder, so I slowed down my head, but my head still bounced a bit. My butt actually got it a lot worse than my head, I burst some blood vessels, and I brused the bone. It felt like sitting with my fist under my leg, so uncomfortable, then when that finally went away, not even a day later, I pulled a muscle in my gym class, fml. Thankfully, the only thing wrong with my head (other than being neurodivergent) was that it was bruised, and I had a bump. It hurt to brush my hair for about a week.

It was a really surreal experience. The closest thing I can compare it to was the moment when I jumped out of the plane when I went skydiving, this march. Everything seems to slow down. There is a huge spike in adrenaline. It feels like looking at something beautiful. It takes your breath away, but at the same time, it is like your brain zooms into a single moment to try and accomplish something. It is like tunnel vision. You are only aware of the situation, the precived threat, and how your body can stop it. It is terrifying in the moment, but incredible in retrospect. You get to see your brain go into the zone, and it's shocking and exciting. It's the reason why thrill seekers exist, that moment of clarity.

While the way it is depicted in shows and movies is often exaggerated, you really do experience a moment of clarity when your brain thinks you're really in danger. Your body really does move faster, and on instinct, your spatial awareness goes through the roof, and your brain almost cuts focus from some of the senses in your body (when I hit the floor I heard the bang, but when I realized I was about to hit the wall I don't remember hearing anything, even though the gym was fairly loud.)

So, while there are no flash sound effects or animations, like particles or auras, Tanjiro's wild slash and "oh sh!t" moment are actually relatively realistic.

[kameonerd566]

.

[sonic-zombie]

Horror movies and war movies are great and all that but I think genuinely one of the most terrifying movie scenes is the stampede scene from the Lion King.

[incandescentia]

Reading T.he E.lusive S.amurai made me think that Tsuyu shares the same brand of *~insanity~* that the MC (H.ojo T.okiyuki) has aka the knack of being thrilled at the idea of being defeated or caught by a potentially stronger enemy, so her instincts would push herself to the edge to turn the situation on her favor through her own strength and speed, outsmart her enemies, or simply escape from the situation unscathed.

[hurlingdown]

        # BEASTFEAST ! — RYŌMEN SUKUNA.

synopsis. in another life, they only knew you as his guard dog. in this one, he's yours to own. or, alternatively: sukuna misses his mate so much that it begins to physically affect his vessel's body. they set off on a little mission in search of you, only to find themselves walking riiight into your waiting jaws. wc. 4.2k

tags. dom beast! reader, bottom! sukuna. reader has a cock. oviposition (eggs), size difference, large cock, i'm not joking around that thing is fucking ginormous, belly bulge, monsterfucking, cum inflation, breeding kink, mpreg, knotting, biting, rough anal sex, warning: sukuna's huge tits, appropriate amount of clothes-ripping, multiple orgasms, creampie, sukuna's hole leaks slick, soft & needy sukuna.

a/n. inspired by this ask. thank you for the wonderful thirst <3

Sukuna was a predator. He did not fear, did not run from measly little things like monsters, because hardly anything could be more terrifying than he was. 

But for the first time in his life, he felt like he was prey. 

Hulking, sharp teeth bared, and with four piercing slit-like eyes, you rose to your full height, a low growl sounding at the back of your throat. Primal hunger radiated from your entire being as you stalked closer and closer, horns lowered in a position ready to strike, your tail whipping the jagged ends of the cave, sending little sparks alive. 

“S-Sukuna, I think we should leave...” Yuuji stammered, starting to back out, but his cheek split open at once and a mouth appeared, snarling out a command to stay. 

“Let me take over,” Sukuna muttered. “I will handle this, brat.” 

Yuuji looked hesitant about giving up control on his body. Still, there were little options to pick and choose from at the moment, and the beast, you, was approaching them with haste. Each heavy step you took announced your presence, causing the ground to quake, crushed rock particles raining down like fine powder. 

Your eyes narrowed in onto the human at the mouth of the cave, no larger than one-fifth of your size, nor taller. Something coursed through you, sharp and warm and instantaneous, like static electricity. 

Familiarity. 

You came to a halt in front of him as tribal tattoos materialised on his skin, stretching across the expanse of his handsome face and dipping into his clothed chest. Two dark bands wrapped themselves around each of his wrists, and you watched intensely as he raised one (not six)—slowly, as to not threaten you, fist unfurling into a gentle hand to press against the side of your muzzle. 

Dark red eyes stared up at you with a bored expression. 

“Silly dog,” Sukuna cooed, fond. 

All of this was familiar territory, and you wanted to sink your teeth into his neck. He was looking at you like he knew what you wanted, too. 

“Sukuna,” you growled, nuzzling into his hand, and he shuddered. 

Closing his eyes, he curled a palm around one of your horns, bringing you down to press his forehead against yours, wanting to be close. You obliged easily, feeling his warm breath against yours, his touch surrounding you. The thrumming of his very much human heart against your lesser human one. You supposed it was a kind of feeling that no other living being could fathom. It wasn’t love, gods, no. It was something much more than that. 

It was something that only the two of you shared. 

“I made you wait,” Sukuna breathed, stroking the side of your face, and you snorted out an agreement. 

He had made you wait for centuries. Centuries of spending night and day in a cold wet cave, alone. You used to spend weeks lying awake at a time, waiting, hoping he would come back, sharp instincts perking up at every slight noise coming from outside the cave, only for it to be a bird or a stupid human traveller. You had hoped so desperately before that hope died with your will to live, and if not for your curse of immortality, you would have ended it all. You hadn’t even bothered to make a proper nest, for all these years. It didn’t matter if your mate wasn’t there to appreciate it. 

He had left you empty of meaning. 

“... I don’t suppose you will want me to apologise for that.” 

You stayed quiet. You weren’t looking for an apology. But that didn’t mean you weren’t angry with him. 

“Words?” he said patiently, looking at you. “Tell me how you feel.” 

“Nest,” you told him, and he watched helplessly as you shrugged his grip off and stalked past him, out of the cave and into the bright sunlight, for the first time in ages. 

You gathered nesting materials as swiftly as you could, taking whatever you could find in the forest—dried-up twigs, leaves, bark strips, bird feathers, all the sort. They didn’t have the softest texture, but they would do for now. 

You returned to a sweet, heady scent seeping out from inside the cave, each whiff sending delicious quivers down your spine. It was the kind of aphrodisiac that omegas in the wild would release if they wanted to attract an alpha, but these things did not matter to you much. Mate, your mind supplied. Breed. You shook it off as your body not being attuned to the unbearable warmth of the outside world. It was getting all your instincts mixed up. 

Inside the cave, Sukuna was sitting on your poorly-made nest like it was a grand throne, thighs spread and arms hung out, exposing his most vulnerable parts—his neck, heart and belly—to you in such a casual manner that it set fuel to the burgeoning fire you had been trying to ignore in your abdomen.

He gave you a lazy look as you noticed, a smirk beginning to stretch across his face. 

“You are back.” 

You felt your fangs itch. 

“I was going to rip these off,” Sukuna continued when you made no reply, pinching his clothes with a look of near disgust. “But I figured you would want to do it yourself…?” 

You growled. You had been suppressing the urge to rip off all his clothes since the moment he emerged in front of you in those markings that you had recognised as yours, and somehow, he knew it. 

“Sukuna,” you said. There was nothing else to say. You could feel yourself trembling with desire. Even he wouldn’t be able to take it, not in this weak form, no. “I need… to fix the nest.” The words came out flimsy and weak. An excuse.

“Take me,” he rasped out, as though reading your mind. He gestured to his stomach. “Forget the nest. I want you inside me. Right here.” 

He watched you, a hint of desperation behind his stern gaze. You looked away. 

“I am angry at you,” you confessed, the real reason for why you were so hesitant. It came out in a growl, and Sukuna shivered, baring his neck with a low whine. 

“I can tell,” he murmured, breathless. “Take it out on me.” 

It was tempting, really, having your mate spread out in front of you in your territory, willing and pliant, with only a thin, negligible barrier between you and what was yours. No, what used to be yours. You glared at his unblemished neck, now empty of a mating bite. It didn’t feel right, and the growing heat within you was telling you to either bite or break something. 

“No.” 

Sukuna cocked an eyebrow. “No?” 

Trying your best to ignore him, you lumbered over, starting to rearrange the nest into something more presentable. As you got closer, the sweet scent intensified, like a field of blooming red roses, each one making you dizzy with desire. Mate, your instincts were telling you. Make him round and heavy with our offspring. Keep him here forever. Who knows where he’ll walk off to the next time we lose sight of him. 

You could feel your cock sliding out from its sheath, steadily hardening as you pretended not to know where the smell was coming from. 

Sukuna eyed you coyly as you moved closer to stuff a few feathers behind him, arching his back subtly as he settled into a more comfortable position, one that exposed the wet patch between his legs. He pulled down the mouth of his shirt to show his right pectoral, the thick black lines enticing you to trace them with your tongue. 

Your cock swung heavily with every slight movement, and you could feel his hungry stare on it. 

He opened his mouth. You stopped and stared back at him, daring him to speak. He sneered. “Your dick clearly disagrees—” 

Sukuna yelped as you ripped his shirt open with your claws in one smooth movement, fully exposing his plump chest. 

“Beautiful,” you growled in appreciation, flinging the shredded shirt away, and he panted out a victorious laugh, eagerly pushing out his tits for you to examine. 

“Fucking finally.” He moaned unabashedly as you groped his pecs, careful not to graze him with your claws, but just as rough nonetheless—just the way he liked it. “Knew you would give in, haah.” 

“Sukuna,” you warned, baring your teeth, but he only arched his neck in response, trying to get you to bite already. 

“Put it in,” he whined. “Want your prick in me.” 

You ripped his pants off next. 

Your gaze raked down his body—this new, unfamiliar body of his that you should despise, because it was so human, so unlike him—but instead of feeling revulsion, you could only taste hunger. Saliva rapidly gathered in your mouth, threatening to spill out from the gaps of your sharp teeth. 

If he belonged to you, then every form and body that he chooses to possess would belong to you, too. And naturally, this one did. 

“Here,” Sukuna panted, reaching a hand between his legs to scissor his hole open for you. Viscous, syrupy slick dripped out, dousing your nest with his sweet smell, and all of this only served to drive you crazy with want. “Fuck me, ruin me, come on—” 

The universe unravelled before you the moment you grabbed him by the hips and seated him on your cock in one violent thrust, and you groaned out loud and guttural, heavens and the earth be damned. You could have never forgotten how it felt, not since then, and never now, a sweltering, almost electrical connection burning through your bodies and sealing them together as one, like you were made to fit inside him, like he was made to be yours. 

Sukuna was letting out a string of broken whimpers, face contorted in absolute bliss and pleasure as his rim stretched impossibly wide around your thick girth, his stomach bulging out to allow such a large intrusion. You yanked him further down the shaft of your cock, and he cried out, body convulsing as came—cock messily spurting on his chest. 

“Shit,” he cursed, trembling as you began to move again. “F-forgot how big this thing is.” 

You snarled. Guess you would just have to imprint your dick inside him to make sure he would never forget again. 

You manoeuvred your grip to the back of his knees, supporting him in a secure hold, spreading his thighs wider so you could slide in deeper with his back pressed against your chest. You wanted to feel every inch of him, wanted him to sheath you, wanted to carve a space inside him that only you could ever breach. Sukuna howled out a profanity, throwing his head back to rest on your shoulder as pleasure overwhelmed him in waves. 

He reached back to grab at your shoulders, horns, anything, struggling to push himself into a better position as you started to slowly thrust into him. Vulnerable was the first word that came to you. The second one was fragile, but that wasn’t the word for it, either. He was so little now—you could fit one hand completely around his waist, and you should be more gentle with him, really, but you knew he could take more. 

“Look,” you said, peeking over his shoulder. Sukuna looked up at you, teary and confused, but before you could clarify, you reached a clawed hand to press against the obscene bulge on his navel, and his eyes rolled back with a loud, shuddering cry as he jerked in your arms, pressure immediately increasing tenfold. 

“F-fuck,” he sobbed. You could feel the slick gushing out from around you and dripping down your thighs as he stared down for the first time, throat dry and unbreathing. “It’s too fuckin’ big.” 

You applied more pressure, just to be cruel, watching as he choked on a moan, thighs quivering uncontrollably. He stared back up at you, as though searching for a reason for that, and couldn’t resist looking down again, at the huge swell over his stomach and abdomen—the print of your cock marking him as yours. He slowly pressed his hands over your larger ones, whimpering as he felt just how deeply you were buried inside him. 

“It is not that big,” you sneered. “You are just small now.”

Sukuna scowled at your taunting words, shivering as you gently stroked his stomach. “Brat. That does not- ah- does not mean I cannot take you.” 

You bared your teeth, trying for something similar to a smile. “I know.” 

You knew that more than anyone. He was the strongest creature you had ever known, and would ever know. The only one you would ever bow down to, the only one you would serve and recognise as king.

You lapped up his tears, and Sukuna leaned heavily into your touch, like he had been starving for it. 

He was starting to roll his hips impatiently, forcing the head of your cock to rub against his walls, lustful whimpers slipping out as he watched you move inside him. “I guess it has been a long time,” he heaved, trying to catch his breath as he worked himself up and down your shaft the best he could. “I am gonna—cum. Again. Hold me.” 

It wasn’t an order as much as it was a plea.

You lifted his thigh high up to your chest, your other arm wrapping protectively around his waist as you violently slammed up into his tight hole, stuffing him full as he screamed. Strips of white painted his chest as he came all over himself, and you hooked your jaw over his shoulder to dutifully lick them up. 

It took him less than a minute to recover, hips jerking in your grip and whimpering pitifully to get your attention.  

“Fuck me,” he sobbed, way too sensitive as you started to move him up and down your cock again, canines grazing his neck. “Fuck me harder.” 

You knew Sukuna wasn’t letting you do this only because he wanted you to let you take out your anger on him. He needed it himself, craved it, even—the violence, the overstimulation, the release. Centuries of not having you beside him. Centuries of being sealed up in a dark, empty space without the comfort of your warmth, the solace in your touch. He needed it now, more than ever, and you needed it too.  

Ignoring his protests, you pulled him off your cock, setting him gently onto the nest on his hands and knees. Yanking his hips up, you forcefully pushed your shaft into him again, shoving him down by the neck when he tried to see what you were doing. He only moaned at the rough treatment, arching his back for you. 

“Let me,” you told him, gently. “Let me take care of you.” 

Sukuna panted, his two left eyes watching you with a strange reverence that only revealed itself when the two of you were alone and being intimate. It wasn’t exactly a promise to behave, but it was enough for you to start again. 

Your tail curled around his thigh possessively, guiding it to spread wider as you rammed your hips against his repeatedly with heavy thrusts, the wet slaps deafeningly loud as they echoed through the cave. Sukuna had stopped trying to fuck himself on your cock, instead laying there and allowing you to position him as you wished, moaning lewdly every time the tapered tip of your cock forced itself against his sweet spot. He was squeezing deliciously around you with every thrust, his insides squelching as slick coated the entirety of your shaft, easing the stretch and glide. 

“Gorgeous,” you growled, entranced by the way his hole greedily swallowed up your length, and he whined brokenly at the praise, trembling hands reaching back to spread himself open for you. You groaned out at the sight, driving yourself deep in before pulling out until only the tip stayed inside, and slamming back in again to drink in his pleasured cries. Somewhere in the middle of that he had cum again, spilling heavily into the nest as his knees gave out, legs shaking with overstimulation. 

“So fuckin’ good,” Sukuna whimpered, no longer himself in the haze of his third orgasm—face smushed against the nest as he drooled. “Missed this—missed you so much, ah—” 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, the edges of your vision blurring as you snapped your teeth together, focused on getting him off as much as possible first. Something strange and heavy was churning deep within you, being slowly dragged out from your depths and solidifying at the base of your cock—a feeling you hadn’t felt for a long time, you almost forgot what it meant. 

You didn’t even know if it was possible to impregnate him in this form. 

“Fill me up,” he sobbed out, cockdrunk already. The stutter of your hips had given it away—it didn’t matter if it had been centuries—his body could recognise it coming from a mile, like he was conditioned to be bred by you. “Want your eggs.” 

You let out a hungry, animalistic whine at his words, claws digging into his hips and thighs as you towered over him in a proper mounting position, pounding harder and making guttural sounds of pleasure and want as you blindly chased your release. His eyes squeezed shut as he moaned wantonly, exposing his throat in a clear sign of submission, showing you that he wanted this, wanted you to stuff him full until he was bulging with your offspring. 

“S-Sukuna,” you managed, wanting to bite, wanting to mark him, cock slamming directly into his sweet spot with reckless abandon, as though wanting to mark his insides as yours too. You could feel a knot bloating at the base of your shaft, heavy and swollen with solid weight, an unbearable pressure pushing and growing insistently somewhere down there, slowly travelling towards the rim of your cockhead. It was too much, too good, and you wanted to push deeper, deeper, make him feel it all the way to his throat. 

“Knock me up already!” he wailed, pushing his ass back against you desperately as if that would speed things up. “P-Please. You know I want it. Been waiting for so long. I want it, please, please—” 

He was begging so much that it was driving your instincts into overdrive, sight blurring, breath coming out in rapid, hot pants—he had rarely, rarely ever acted like this even before the two of you were separated—tears rolling down his cheeks as he cried his heart out for you to permanently mark his body as your own, distraught and broken like the only thing that could fix him was you. 

It tore your soul apart to see your mate like this. 

You fought to concentrate, but an invisible force was prying your jaws open, trying to get you to bite, clamp down on his neck and shoulder, taste his blood and drink in it. 

“Bite,” you wheezed out with difficulty as your hips continued to pound into him of their own accord, and you tried your hardest to tell him that you were going to lose it any time. “Please—can—I?” 

“Yes, you fucking fool,” Sukuna choked on a sob as you brutally shoved your knot into him, stuffing him full until he felt like he was bursting. “Mark me up, show me that I belong to you—” 

And you did, jaws latching onto flesh and skin as your teeth punctured the juncture between his neck and shoulder, fangs sinking in deep, snarling, shaking, a burning heat exploding at your core as your vision whited out, emptying everything into him—ecstasy consuming your very existence. 

When you came to be, he was whimpering weakly.

You could feel the cum steadily trickling out of his hole and down the back of his thighs—you had come so much that even the thick knot couldn’t keep everything inside—but you didn’t think that was the reason. 

You could feel a heavy pressure present from your crotch to the gaping rim of your cockhead, pain and pleasuring splitting you apart, and you let out a wounded noise as you pushed the first egg into the body of your mate. 

“S-shit,” Sukuna croaked out, thighs trembling as the egg settled into him, straining at the sudden heavy weight in his stomach. “H-how many are there?” 

“There are two,” you hissed out, and his eyes widened. “Two more.” 

He let out a pained whine, eyes fluttering close as he waited for the next, and the next. “Brat,” he managed. “I might not be able to stay awake.” 

You pulled back the best you could, manhandling him gently so that you could rest him on his side, knot still lodged inside him. “It is okay,” you told him, softly. “I will take care of you.” 

Sukuna couldn’t remember, for the life of it, the last time that he had felt so heavy. 

He blinked his eyes open, and was greeted by the sight of his swollen stomach, now stuffed with three whole eggs, and at least a gallon of your cum. He sighed with contentment, wriggling to settle comfortably into the warmth of the nest, hands settling on his stomach. 

Yuuji was going to try and kill him, no doubt. Not that his vessel would ever come close to succeeding. He found himself grinning evilly at that. 

Sukuna was about to fall asleep again, before he noticed a lack of body heat behind him.

He was breathing in your scent as the entire cave was drenched in it that he hadn't realised immediately, but you were nowhere in sight. A hollow feeling swept over him in waves at the thought of being used and abandoned, and he bit back a whimper. Stupid, useless instincts. He hated how weak you made him.

“Brat,” he called, softly, too tired to sit up. “You are here?” 

You grunted. 

You had been sitting at the far edge of the nest for the past hour, gaze locked onto the entrance of the cave, guarding your now pregnant mate from any foolish intruders. That was… one of the two reasons. The other reason was to guard him from yourself. 

Sukuna called for you again, and you could not resist stealing a glance.

The sight before you was making you light-headed with desire that you could not afford to have, not right now. You stared down at him just as he looked up at you, swollen and bulging with your offspring, mindlessly stroking his huge stomach with cum still trickling down his ass and thighs. 

Fuck. You were so hungry. You would always be hungry for him.

Sukuna’s face split into an arrogant smirk. “Why, after all that, and you still want more.” 

“Do not,” you warned lowly, trying your best to look away, even as he shamelessly spread his legs, showing you the mess you had made between his thighs. “Sukuna. Not now.” 

“Why not?” he leered, taking pleasure in your distress. “Scared you will break me?” 

You growled. “Yes.” 

“Weak,” he taunted. “I do not remember picking a weak fool as my mate.” 

“I am not weak.” You bared your teeth at him, and he simply laughed at you. 

“So easy to rile up,” he hummed. “Come here.” 

“... No.” 

He looked even more amused. “Come over, brat. I will not do anything vile.” 

“So you know you are vile,” you said, and despite your words, begrudgingly strut over and buried your face into his neck, ignoring the dull heat persisting in your lower abdomen. 

Sukuna sighed as you lapped affectionately at the fresh mating bite, closing his eyes and basking in the heat of your body. “I never- ah- denied it in the first place.” 

You pulled back to glower at him, clawed hands settling back on his hips where they belonged—now carrying the weight of your offspring. He reached up to cradle your face now that you were steadying him, unfazed by your glare. 

“And you still love this vile creature?” he murmured, gazing at you with an expression no less than tender.

“Love,” you repeated, like it would make sense if you said it a second time. You felt more for him than just love. If love only made your skin feel warm and your heart beat fast, like the mortals have told, then this feeling was something much, much more than love. 

Sukuna merely grinned, and you knew he felt the same. 

kinktober masterlist! masterlist!

[cherryview]

i get what you mean. if/when delal looks at me for more than 7 seconds (won’t be more than 7 i have to look away at that point that’s TEUW much) i’ll also explode

my brain actually stops working!!