#mk47
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Jaergerz999 on IG
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Sleepo Beepo getting an adorable skin next month
#i wonder who's getting the neural upgrades 🤔 maybe i should check if there was a previous announcement#also hell yes to mk47. theyre the only hoc i dont have#girls' frontline
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This is all the lmk art i've made since first getting into it! No particular order, just re-downloaded them in a wacky order!
some were meme drawings (Nezha barfing rainbows) and others were for weekly prompts on a server i'm in! (If anyone from that server finds this, hello, my friends!)
Just gonna preface this art drop with a lil warning. this includes season 4 spoilers. there were some things i was drawing before season 4's release (or even knowledge of its existence) that ended up being true. just a warning ^^
#mk lmk#lmk red son#lmk season 4 spoilers#minor spoilers#lmk redraw#lmk fanart#lego monkie kid#lmk mk has a gun#it's an mk47#mk as a monkie#wukong as a human#mk and redson are lgbtq and you can't convince me otherwise#pray to the the tumblr gods that my art improves-
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Between the Black and Gray 19
First / Previous / Next
After lunch, a few crew members came up to Fen and invited her down to the shooting range.
"What do you say, Ms. Whitehorse?" One of them, a youngish man with dark hair and a close cropped beard asked shyly.
Fen smiled. "Fen is fine. Sure, let me go fetch my rifle and I'll go to the range." She turned. "Kel, would you like to come too?"
Kel held both of her hands out in surrender. "No thanks Fen! I just barely passed my shooting test, I'll stick to plants for now. You go have fun."
Fen went to her temporary quarters and grabbed her rifle and met the crew at the range a few minutes later. Dreams was large enough that it had quite a few amenities and a large rifle range was among them. It was in the bottom rear of the ship, next to the hold, and when Fen showed up, everyone was getting issued their ammunition. Fen took her spot in line and when she stepped up the armorer asked what she needed.
"I need rounds for a Mk47 main battle rifle." Fen hefted her weapon up to the counter so that the armorer could see it. Her rifle was given to her by Gord, and printed to her specifications. It was sky blue, with a dark blue K'laxi pattern along the stock running up the barrel and looked out of place among the sea of coal black rifles. The armorer blinked and stared.
"A Mk47? Why are you shooting that antique? That hasn't been standard issue for centuries! I don't even know if I have rounds that big, I have to go back to the magazine and look."
Fen crossed her arms. "The Mk47 is a classic. It has the stopping power necessary to take on any biological opponent, will stop all consumer and many military grade walking frames, is easy to clean and parts can be printed anywhere with nearly any resolution printer available."
The armorer shrugged. "Fine, fine. You clearly know your stuff. Let me go look in the back." While the armorer disappeared, Fen talked with the others. Gev had invited her, he worked in the main battery and gushed about how she took down Ellen.
"I can't say she was everyone's favorite, but I didn't expect anyone to just snap and slam her head like that! I can't believe you got in so fast."
Fen's face hardened. "She was flinging slurs at me. I'm proud of who I am."
Gev nodded quickly "I get it, I get it. I was born on Parvati and even though I grew up in Regantown on Venus people still think of me as just a colonist. I never dislocated a shoulder though."
"If Gev liked normal food like us, we'd probably make fun of him less!" One of the crew with them said. The others laughed.
Gev winced. "They don't like Parvatian food. They said it's too 'ethnic.' As if having a spice other than cilantro and salt is ethnic!"
Fen smiled tightly. She had a hunch that Gev was downplaying how much of a hard time they gave him.
The armorer returned and practically threw three magazines onto the counter. "Here. Any more and I'll have to run the printers. You're lucky that we even had those. Regs state we need to have some rounds of just about every size."
Fen thanked the armorer, scooped up the magazines and joined Gev and his friends. They were chatting and each taking turns running a timed event. In thirty seconds, targets would appear all over the range, and the person with the most accurate strikes got the most points. Fen had done this drill with Gord quite a bit when she was learning, so she was broadly familiar with it. She checked over the ammunition the armorer gave her, and got a magazine ready.
When it was her turn, she stepped up to the counter, loaded and cocked her rifle, and lifted it up to her shoulder. "Ready."
There was a tone, and the first target appeared. Fen slowed her breathing, sighting, squeezing and felt the pressure on her shoulder from her gun. Almost as soon as her finger brushed the trigger, her peripheral vision was already looking for the next target. The Mk47 was a much larger and louder rifle than what Gev and his friends fired. The noise of hers was deafening in the range, and everyone stopped shooting to watch.
The world shrank for Fen. It became her, the rifle, the target and the next target. Over and over, one after another until another tone sounded the end of the drill.
Blinking, Fen ejected the empty magazine, and set the rifle down. She rolled her shoulders back, putting her hands on the back of her hips. "I need to get down here more, that felt rusty." She turned to see everyone staring at her. "What? Was it that bad?"
Gev silently pointed to the scoreboard near the front of the range. Her name was at the top, with the highest score, and three little stars next to the number.
"What are the stars?"
"One star means the high score for the month. Two stars means the high score since deployment. Three stars is the highest score recorded."
Fen looked at the scoreboard. She had beaten the next score under hers by over one hundred points. She nodded once. "Looks to me like you're all slacking." She smiled and slotted another magazine. "Reset the drill, I bet I can do better."
Fen spent the rest of the time at the range giving out impromptu lessons in shooting. Everyone was so sloppy. She wondered if it was something to do with Imperial training or the fact that it was just her and Gord for so long she had extra experience. After about an hour, everyone's scores were improving but they were clearly getting tired. "Well, I'm out of ammunition now, and if I ask the armorer for more I think she's going to throw them at me. Let's stop for today."
Fen and the others stepped away from the firing line and cleaned and oiled their rifles. The others checked them back in with the armorer and Fen slung hers to her back. As they were getting ready to leave, Captain Cooper walked in. Everyone froze and immediately saluted.
She smiled broadly. "At ease, I'm here to congratulate our guest. Overall high score? Very impressive. I had no idea you were such a shooter!"
Fen tried to demure. "Thank you Captain, it's just practice."
Captain Cooper shook her head. "Nonsense. Practice is but one aspect. You have to have skill, experience and training to get that good. You must have been training for a long time."
"For a few years yes, but it was more that I spent nearly every down moment on my previous ship at the range. There wasn't much else to do aboard ship, so I just practiced."
Captain Cooper turned to the crew. "See what a human can do with practice and motivation? She's beaten the all time score onboard on her first attempt! I want to see those scores improving. I'm going to allow her score to stand even though she's not crew to show you what humans are capable of." She turned back to Fen. "Walk with me, Ms. Whitehorse."
They walked down the hall, Captain Cooper's polished boots clicking on the decks. As they walked everyone gave them a wide berth. "Ms. Whitehorse, you are quite a specimen." Fen glanced at the Captain. She was at least one head taller than Fen, and her uniform was tailored to within an inch of it's life. There were no folds or creases out of place anywhere. She had a leather shoulder holster with a well oiled pistol under her left arm. Her short hair was impeccable and she wore her hat at a rakish angle. Her grin was predatory.
"Yes, Captain?" Fen wasn't sure what she meant, but had a hunch it wasn't anything good.
"Despite your... upbringing and your... own choices, you are a beacon of humanity in this galaxy. You are a skilled fighter, a shooting phenom, you're a polyglot, and an able teacher. Fenchurch Whitehorse, you are what we strive for in the Empire. You're able to go through the galaxy and show those... other sapients what humanity is all about." The captain stopped in front of a large widow and looked out. In the distance was the brownish blue orb of K'lax. "Do you know the motto of the Human Empire? Superiores sumus quia debemus 'We are better, because we have to'." She looked away from the window and continued to walk. "Fenchurch. Fen. You represent the ideals that we strive for. You are superior because you are human. You have taken the skills and abilities given to you by your birth and turned them - despite growing up among the-" her voice darkens "-Gren, despite being raised K'laxi you are human."
Uh, thank you Captain, but I'm just me." Fen's mind was reeling. What was going on?
"That's exactly right Fen. You are you. You are human. You are superior. The others out there? The Innari, the Sefigans, the Gren, the Xenni, and yes, even our old friends the K'laxi, they don't understand what it means to be human. What it means to be better."
Fen didn't say anything. What could she say? As they were walking, Fen noticed an outline in the hall. There was no door handle, and no touchpad, but there was a small stenciled sign in Gord's old language. Gord tried to teach her some, but it made no sense. She was able to read a little bit but only after she translated it to Colonic in her head. She hadn't realized Dreams was that old. In a very small font, worn with time and age it said
AI Core
An AI? Here? Fen didn't know much about the Empire but she knew they didn't like AIs. What was an AI Core room doing here, even looking as old and abandoned as it was. She was snapped back to reality by Captain Cooper stopping. "Fen, I am pleased you joined us. I think you have been a... breath of fresh atmosphere for the crew. Please consider signing on with the Imperial Navy. I have some pull back on Venus, I come from a... prominent family. I could get you fast tracked to officer. In a few years you'd probably have your own command. I'd hate to see you... waste your best years out there."
Every nerve in Fen's body told her to just nod along, but not to agree to anything. The last thing she wanted to do was join the Empire, especially after a speech like that. Fen wondered if it was supposed to sound complimentary. "Thank you for saying so Captain. I'm glad I could help out. I'll think on what you said."
She smiled broadly and lightly brushed her shoulder. "You do that, Fen. There are more benefits to the Empire than you know." She bent her head lower to be in line with Fen's. "When it's just the two of us, you can call me Crystal." She purred.
#humans are deathworlders#humans are space orcs#sci fi writing#humans are space oddities#humans and aliens#jpitha#writing#humans and ai#humans are space capybaras#humans are space australians#Between the black and gray
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ART REQUESTS/ARTSTYLE EXPERIMENTATION
experimented with different artstyles with the art reqs i received
req #1 by @invokedeliverance : nokotan with mk47
req #2 by Dan: his ao character
art req #3 by ashe: their deepwoken character
#arcane odyssey#deepwoken#my deer friend nokotan#artists on tumblr#digital art#art#procreate#art requests#what’re u guys favourite? i like the 2nd artstyle imo i love chinese calligraphy brush lol#roblox#artstyle experiment
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Real important question: least favorite gun?
The CMMG mk47 is like trying to mix two things i love - the AR-15 and the AK - and it fails spectacularly.
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When I say I was left hanging from the throat ...I was left hanging from the fucking throat 🤡🤡 ...there was nothing left ..i was chewed out and spit on ..he fucking turned us into a CURSE!?!? OF ALL THINGS!? ...a devoted a curse ..that I bet u even when he gets sealed ...we get selead along with him until the modern era hits again 💀💀
Ain't nobody taking chances with us 😭😭
But my dear author ..my writer..✨️yikimiki✨️ I know u said in the beginning that u assassinated canon out of this man but that's why we have the headcanon MK47 for everything ✨️🩷💅🏻 ..she's beautiful and she serves when we need her ✨️cuz this writing needed to come out like the secret file that it is just so heavenly
...covered in ur words ✨️...ur voice 🩷
Hol up thoo we started off on this fic so strong and level headed that obviously like any normal person we would break during these situations ...but the fact that sukuna was so fucking determined to keep us ...."alive" it got us thinking
You know what? ...this manz ain't that bad??🤡🤡
We got food ..🤡🤡...we got clothes...🤡..he gave us a spacious room ..🤡🤡...we fuck him every once and awhile 😩💅🏻...we got maids 🤡 ...
Everything is perfect so idk why I'm complaining? 🫠 though honesssttlyyyy I would have dropped my fucking morals and my shame and just let him do whatever til we got sum kids 💀
Cuz that's what I was thinking at the end 💀💀💀...LIKE HE SAID HE HAD SUM SPECIAL FOR US??? AND I JUST KNEW : ooooohhh he gonna give us a kid ...BUT TURNING US INTO A CURSE?? 😭😭😭why did I think he killed us??
Like the biggest backstabbing ever and I would have been GONE
>> bones and ashes
⚔️ sukuna x fem!reader | warnings for: violence, mentions of death, possessiveness (sukuna is as evil as they come so basically every red flag under the sun), non-con that turns into dub-con (Stockholm syndrome), mentions of virginity loss, anatomically impossible size difference (if u know what I mean), blood play, etc | around 5-6k words | also important to note that I absolutely assassinated the canon lore in some points but bare with me
Sukuna doesn’t really have the ability to love. But he thinks he gets close enough when it comes to you. Of course, in his own twisted, macabre way.
Sukuna isn’t familiar to the concept of fondness, let alone anything more profound or meaningful than that. He knows want, desire, possession, curiosity even. But none of those feelings have ever tilted towards the side of affection, nor does he want them to. They’re all narcissistic pulses that keep pushing him forward — towards more power, more control, more of what he can become. He’s not even fond of his own abilities. Arrogant? Perhaps, but not fond. He can’t be fond of something he knows is not at its peak yet, that would just be weakness.
And Sukuna is everything but weak.
He sees you in a cold winter morning and he does what he knows best: he takes. Takes your pride, your virginity, your blood. Takes you like he took the lives of the rest of your village, paints your skin red and watches as the tears wash it away. Sukuna takes and takes until you have nothing left to give, just like he has done countless times before and yet… this time, something switches.
This time, he decides to let you live. Trapped in a dark cell, of course, but alive regardless.
The days move slowly, and you learn to mark their passing by the loud, clanking sound of a metal dish being thrown through a cracked door. The food is mostly raw meet and, after a few days of disgust, you cave in and eat a little of it. Not enough to be satisfied, not even close, but enough to keep you alive for at least a few hours longer.
Sukuna comes by in irregular intervals, and you soon give up on trying to find a pattern in his visits. You know it’s him from the way the door creaks open even further to accommodate his size, and you watch as his large shadow observes your movements for a moment before he kicks the disgusting plate towards you. Most of time time he’s there, you force yourself to eat, afraid of what should come if you turn down his unspoken commands. Once he seems satisfied, he exits without a word.
There is one single advantage in being in a windowless, isolated cell: you can’t hear what goes on up there. You’ve heard enough the day that Sukuna came to your village — the shattering screams, the pleads for mercy, the babies crying, the sound of wood and bone breaking almost too similar to differentiate. You saw creatures beyond your realm and heard awful whispers and threats; held you family as they died and gave up as the snow beneath your hands became as red as the burning sky above. And you know enough about Sukuna’s legend to be aware that it wasn’t an isolated incident.
When evil incarnate arrives, there’s not much you can do but surrender.
Though, when it comes to the legends, you thought that his palace was more of a manner of speak than an actual location. Once again, though, you’ve heard enough legends to know when to stop inquiring about the details.
Sukuna comes in after a week with a plan and a cloud of amusement over his head — frankly, given the state you were in, he thought you would be dead by now. Your stubborn hold on life is as impressive as it is pathetic.
“You looked so small when I first saw you,” his thunderous voice breaks the silence. There’s no food in his hands this time, only the fire cracking behind his form. You’re sitting down on the cold floor, back against the wall, and you don’t even bother looking up at him. “You look even smaller now.”
You don’t answer, because you don’t know what to say. Of course you’re smaller — you’re weak, starving, lacking movement and sunlight. Every muscle in your body aches and the aftertaste of dried blood never leaves your mouth. Smaller is a compliment; you wish you were just bones and ashes by now.
Sukuna takes a heavy step inside the dark chamber. “I killed everyone you’ve ever loved that day,” he says, bluntly. There’s no amusement nor sorrow in his tone — it’s a neutral statement. He lowers himself to your level and, on the corner of your eyes, you see his four arms. He is so wrong, even in a physical sense. Like the scar of something that shouldn’t even exist. “And yet… you live. Do you want to know why?”
You sneer. “I wish you’d just let me die.”
He chuckles, and one hand meets the side of your head. His fingers dig into the dirty, messy strings and pulls on the roots. There are tears on the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let him see them. “That’s exactly why you’re alive,” he says. “I knew you were ready to die when I saw you — all bloodied up, on your knees in the snow. It was quite a sight.” Sukuna’s voice is a malicious whisper as he comes even closer to you — he smells rotten. The tongue that licks up your cheek makes you want to puke. He tastes you the same way as he did on the first day, and you have no idea what he’s searching for. “Tell me, why were you so ready to give yourself to me? Most try to plead at least.”
“Plead for what? Your mercy?” The sarcasm is clear through your tone. The words you mean to say are knotted in the base of your throat and the odor Sukuna reeks is making you dizzy; making you remember everything that came before this. “I— I didn’t have anything else to live for,” you stutter. “You killed… you killed my mother, my father, my baby brother… why would I want to live without them? Why would I humiliate myself asking for mercy from a creature that clearly doesn’t have any to spare?”
Through anger, you look up at him. His eyes are flames bursting through the darkness, and they shine as your words settle on his skin. “Do you only live for love, my little dove?” He asks. “What a purposeless life you have.”
“Do you only live for hate?” You ask back before you can hold your tongue. Somewhere in your mind, you know that he’s capable of unimaginable evil, but you are beyond the point of caution. “What a purposeless legacy you’re leaving behind.”
This angers him. The corners of his mouth twists as he speaks. “You people fear me. Even the strongest of sorcerers doesn’t dare to go against me.”
“I pity you and your ridiculous need for destroying what isn’t yours,” you spit. “And I hate you for keeping me alive. I hate you for everything you’ve done to me and to the people I love. And I hate that you even dare to come here and talk to me like I’m the smaller person for daring to care about something.”
The hands on your hair tighten and he pulls your face against his. Sukuna’s forehead is a furnace against yours, his eyes burn into your soul. “You little insect, I could kill you with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to.”
Your voice shakes but you say it regardless: “Do it, then, what are you waiting for?”
“No,” his answer is more cruel than death could ever be. And he knows that. “And you know why?”
“If you are keeping me alive to have your way with me, so be it, have it,” you say. The tears are obvious now. You wonder if he can smell how fearful you really are. “Violate me like you did before, I don’t care anymore, but just don’t keep me alive just to waste me away.”
His lips are touching yours now, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. Sukuna’s chest is heaving like he’s in the middle of a battle, his voice like a roar in your ears. “Then ask. For. My Mercy.”
“I w-would n-never…”
“Ask!” It’s a loud command that crashes against you like a wave. You sink like there is no adrenaline in your body to keep you afloat; the anger that moved you before is no longer within your reach.
The truth is clear: you’re human. He’s a curse — the king of curses, older than you could ever imagine; probably even more powerful than the legends you’ve heard. His eyes say that there are fates worse than death and you believe them. And maybe, just maybe, if you play by his rules, he’ll grow tired of you and let you wither away.
“P-Please,” you are sobbing now, tears falling down like a cascade. Sukuna licks them and hums in satisfaction, watching as you break apart into a mountain of hiccups and trembling limbs. “Please just… have mercy on me. I’ll do whatever you want just — please, stop torturing me like this.”
“Aw,” he coos. “Was that so hard?”
You want to say that yes, somehow, that took everything still left in you. You want to say that if he wanted to break your spirit, congratulations, he’s done it. But you don’t get the chance.
Sukuna kisses you with the same ferocity you expected, sharp teeth crashing against yours and tongue exploring your mouth with no prior warning. He groans as he tastes you — you, the blood in your food, the salt of your tears — and suddenly it’s all that he will ever crave again. You whimper against his lips as his two lower arms crawl up your thighs and hold onto your hips, pushing you against him as he stands up and presses you against the wall. You feel more caged now than you have felt these past few days.
“Silly little human,” he raps against your lips, then licks your cheek for more of your precious tears. He realizes how much he likes to make you cry. You wince and give out a little sob, which only makes him smile. Finally, his grip on your hair loosens. “What is my name?”
You blink, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “S-Sukuna…?”
He pouts. “Say it like you mean it or I won’t be so nice.”
“Sukuna,” you say more firmly this time.
“There we go, that’s a good girl,” he says. “See how things just work better when you don’t misbehave? Hm?”
You nod. He doesn’t like it. “Y-Yes, I see, I’m sorry.”
“Very good.” The hand that was on your hair moves to hold your face, and it’s so huge that you feel like it would crush your skull with one single movement. As the other two arms hold onto your thighs, the fourth limb squeezes your breast. “Now, this is what’s going to happen, my pretty little human,” Sukuna starts, “I will have my servants take you to my chambers. You will be washed, clothed, and taken care of. They will feed you proper human food this time, whichever it is that your heart desires. How does that sound?”
Sounds like a trap. “And, in return, what do I have to do for you?”
“What do I have to do for you…?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Sukuna,” you complete.
“There’s my perfect little girl,” he says. You hate that something inside you likes the praise. “You will have to wait for me there. Do whatever you prefer, but don’t leave my room. Any attempt at escaping or killing yourself will be futile, and I’ve already warned every single curse that your death will result in a much more dire future for them. So you will be brought back to me. And I promise I won’t be so nice.”
“I understand… Sukuna,” you correct yourself quickly. It doesn’t go unnoticed.
The hand on your breast squeezes tighter, and you bite your lip so you don’t complain. “I knew I was right when I brought you here, something made me spare you. Yet, I don’t know what it is just yet.”
Sukuna is a looming threat above you, his limbs trapping you, and his deep voice is like thunder about to break. You know why so many fear him — you fear him too. And the sooner you act like it, the sooner he’ll grow tired of you. Sooner he’ll realize he was wrong in bringing you into his fortress.
He smirks. “But I believe I’ll discover soon enough.”
- ⚔️ -
Sukuna’s chambers are as spacious and monstrous as himself — corners switching and adjusting like breathing flesh; furniture morphing into different shapes; the weird odor of something old; the feeling for something lurking. The large windows show a world between worlds; a reality that doesn’t seem right no matter how long you stare at it. His palace is in a dimension you can’t reach, and you give up on trying to understand it. If anything, the more you wonder about it, the more you shake under the weight of the sheer power it must take to keep it all existing like solid matter.
Your passage of time is morphed and unreliable, but you would guess that a couple weeks have passed by the time that you come to terms that, perhaps, Sukuna isn’t as easy to bore as you first expected. The fire in his eyes doesn’t seem to diminish as he sees you — if anything, his eagerness to have you all to himself only seems to expand — and the way he takes care of you makes you realize that he isn’t planning on letting you die anytime soon.
Life in his chambers is far more comfortable, you admit, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Still, you can’t say that you are mistreated. In his chambers, you are bathed and clothed, well-fed and pampered. You soon come back to your normal weight and the fatigue leaves your body; there is more space to move, more things to do. The curses that come to check on you seem to be strangely kind and human-like, though you know it’s out of fear and not out of worry, and they keep your mind occupied with several stories and legends as the days move on.
Sukuna is more absent than you would have imagined, conquering and killing as often as he can. When he finally comes to you he is clean, recently bathed, but you can still see he is fresh from a battle, some mindless corruption beyond the horizon that you would rather hear nothing about. There are shallow scars and deep cuts that heal unreasonably quickly; dried blood that hasn’t quite washed away and ashes beneath his fingernails.
You ask whose village he has attacked this time, but he says it doesn’t matter, because there are no survivors.
“I never leave any survivors,” he completes, kissing your forehead, “besides you, my little human.”
You don’t push beyond that information, but the feeling of being special, chosen, starts to blossom like a dangerous rose inside your chest. It stings and stings, but grows regardless, and you see yourself less able to fight against his possessive claims. You start to enjoy them. You start to wonder if life beyond those walls is worth fighting for when you seem to have everything you would ever wish for right here.
You can always tell when Sukuna is about to arrive in this world because the atmosphere switches into something darker, heavier. The air seems thicker and the clouds beyond your windows start to bleed into a deep shade of red. Sukuna returns with the apocalypse on his back, and, when he does, he uses your body as he pleases.
Like the room around you, there is constant change. Sometimes it hurts like hell; sometimes it’s pleasurable. Sometimes you wish it would just end and you end up crying in despair; sometimes you look at him like you might get used to feeling him inside of you. Some days, Sukuna is kinder, more patient, taking time to adjust you to his enormous size and even makes sure that you enjoy it before reaching his end; fucking you full of his cum until you can’t think of one single thing besides him. Other days, you know he is angry just by the way he walks through the door — and, in those days, you are left bleeding and bruised as he uses your body in every single way until he’s close enough to satisfied. That, on itself, can take a long, long time.
You realize that, during those violent days, he could use one of his curses to please himself, but he prefers to use you — because you bleed, you cry, and you suffer. As long as your pain exists, his interest is unwavering.
However, like everything else, you adapt, get used to it. Routine becomes familiar and you learn the tell-tale signs of his rancid mood; learn how to make it a little better and what things to avoid. You stop thinking about getting away — you don’t even have anywhere else to go — and start longing for his presence as he takes more time to come back home. Sukuna is warm, safe; next to him you know you are shielded from any harm. When he appears, no one dares to look or touch you, no one speaks until they are spoken to. Just by being in his gravitational pull, you are protected and no harm will ever come your way again.
Even if it hurts, you start hoping that he won’t get tired of you.
Sukuna, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how he feels about it all.
It’s not love — he has gone over that one a few hundred times already, has marked off every possible scenario and imagined every possible feeling, and he is sure it isn’t love. To be frank, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of it even if he wanted to, he sold his soul too long ago to even remember how normal humans love. But if it’s not love, it’s something similar — a kind of tenderness, fondness. He has a soft spot for you, to put it bluntly. Though not in the typical sense.
Sukuna adores you like a painter adores his favorite canvas; like an exotic bird in a cage — he adores you with possession, obsession, with the knowledge that you can’t ever get away from his grip. He is fond of you in a way that he would murder anyone who would even dare to touch what is his; but would never set you free. He can hurt you, he can tear you into pieces and build you to his liking. Sukuna can kiss you or bite you; hug or break you, but it’s because you’re his little pet and no one else’s.
He is fond of the way you bend for him; the way you look at him with sheer adoration in your eyes even after he has taken everything from you. He is fond of the way that only he could kill you; that your small life is in his hands and you thank him for it. Sukuna is fond of the way your tight little cunt stretches so wide to take his fat cock; lives for the little whimpers you give out and the tears that stain his satin sheets when he finally allows you to cum for him. If he could crawl inside your soul, he would. If he could take it and eat it and have you forever, he would.
He doesn’t know why he craves you so much, but he knows that nothing else gives him the same high anymore.
So he keeps you.
It’s a heavy stormy night when he comes back the next time, and his room is only illuminated by a few candles and the lightening from outside. You’re in his large bed, looking as small as that day in the snow, and there is a touch of worry in your eyes that he doesn’t miss. But he ignores it.
“Undress,” he commands.
You rush to do as he says, throwing the faint fabric over your head. It falls to the ground as Sukuna walks towards the bed, his massive weight making it dip under his knee as he leans closer to you.
“My pretty little doll,” Sukuna muses. “Missed me?”
He always asks that. And your answer is always the same.
“So much, Sukuna.”
It’s more honest every time.
He hums, satisfied, and smirks as he pushes your hair away from your face. “I have something to tell you, and I think you will like it,” Sukuna says. You look at him with wide eyes as he settles over you, his four arms caging your body as you lay down. The mouth on his stomach open and closes, a large tongue coming out before it vanishes again — it always does it when he’s particularly excited. “Would you like to know what it is?”
You know he will tell you regardless. Like all the tales of his battles, he lives for the glimpse of horror in the back of your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna.”
“Seems like you are famous now,” he starts. You furrow your eyebrows. “Sorcerers are trying to save you. The poor little human girl that Sukuna took as a prisoner months ago.” He kisses your neck, then licks the skin. You shiver — months, it has been months then. “Two of them tried to enter my domain today, stupid little insects,” he continues. Another hand lands on your exposed breast, playing with your nipple. “You have no idea how enraged that made me, my little human. To have someone try to take you away from me; to try and to enter my domain and take you from me.”
His voice turns into a growl by the end of the sentence, and you feel the familiar pulse of terror running through your veins. He’s in a bad mood, that’s obvious, but there’s something hiding beneath that as well.
“What did you do to them?” You ask. “Did they get in?”
Sukuna chuckles darkly, and the hand that was on your breast now settles on your clit, massaging it softly. “I took care of them, my sweet thing, of course,” he says. Your breath hitches at the slow pleasure of his movements, and your eyes flutter shut. “No one will ever take you from me.”
“I don’t want to lose you,” you say without a thought. In your heart, you feel it’s wrong. But without him, you have nothing. “I’m yours forever, Sukuna.”
“I know you are,” he answers.
Sukuna holds you by the throat as he kisses you — not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you a little dizzy. Your eyes cross mindlessly as his tongue invades your mouth; a deep groan coming from his chest as he tastes your lips. He always kisses you violently, possessively, like he wishes to suck your soul out of your chest. Beneath his size you can only shrink and hold onto his large biceps, the wetness between your legs growing as he takes what is his.
He pulls back, ignoring the string of saliva that connects you two. “Pretty little thing,” he muses, shoving his middle finger inside your mouth. “Suck for me.”
You do as he says and he smirks at the feeling of your pretty lips around his large finger. Soon enough, the same digit is invading your pussy, curling up so quickly that you see starts at your peripheral vision.
“Relax or it’ll hurt again,” he says — not like he cares about it. “I want you to remember tonight.”
“W-Why?”
“Because I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine forever,” he says, a devilish smile on the corners of his lips. “So no one can take you from me. No one would even try.”
Your breath is getting heavier, and you don’t even register what he’s telling you — he could do a billion things to you and you’d still let him. The time spent only in his company made your resolution vanish, and you became exactly what he wanted you to: another possession for him to do as he pleases. Because of him, you have nothing else. Besides him, you have nothing.
“You’re not cumming around my finger tonight,” he says and quickly removes his hand from your cunt. You whine at the sudden emptiness, walls spasming around nothing, but you know better than to protest. “It’s going to be around my cock, you got it?”
“Yes, Sukuna,” you say.
“Good girl,” he muses. His lower arms move to undo his pants as his mouth attacks yours once again. His sharp teeth drain blood from your lips and he groans at the metallic taste; drinks the little sob of pain you let out. “You’re all fucking mine. Forever,” he growls, “I’ll make you live forever with me.”
Months ago, that would be torture. But now, “It sounds like heaven, Sukuna,” you say. “I love you.”
Your vision falls to where his hands are working. His cock is massive, bigger than your forearm, balls swinging out of his shorts and falling heavy under his shaft. Your entire body tingles in anticipation as he strokes himself, aligning his cockhead with your opening. “Tiny fucking cunt,” he curses, rubbing it against your soaked folds. “I’ll train you to take my cock even better than now, kitten.” Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in and it hurts — no matter how many times you’ve taken him, it always burns. “Way too fucking tight for my fat cock, you know that?”
“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do better-“
He chuckles. “I fucking love it.”
In one strong motion, he shoves himself as deep as he can, pressing against your cervix as you whine at his size. It isn’t fair — it’s so thick you can’t even breathe, you can feel him in your stomach, pressing and pulsing until you can’t think of anything but the sheer size of his massive cock inside your poor little hole. Your walls hurt to accommodate his girth, stretching as far as they can, but it never seems like it’s enough.
“It’s t-too big, Sukuna,” you whine. And it is. You know he must be doing something to your body so you can even be alive right now, because it’s not humanly possible to take such a big cock. “I c-can’t…”
His hand lands on your head and pulls at the roots. “You are my special little human, my obedient little girl,” he reminds you. His cock throbs inside you and you whimper, the small movement alone makes you drool. “You will do anything I tell you to do.”
You nod. “Y-Yes.”
“So when I tell you to take it….” He rolls his hips even deeper and you call his name so loud that you’re sure the entire world will hear it. “You’ll fucking take it.”
You don’t even have the ability to answer as he starts to pound deep inside your soaked cunt, hard and violent, as he is. Your vision is blurry with tears as you look down to see his massive cock bullying itself again and again inside your cunt, taking everything you have to give.
“Look at me when I claim you,” Sukuna warns and you do it instantly. Your legs wrap around his hips and he squeezes your ass so hard it will bruise. There’s a malicious glint in his red eyes that never quite goes away, no matter how much he tries, and now it’s deadset on you. “My precious little girl,” he calls, voice strained with pleasure. You can tell from the way his cock throbs that he is close, but it doesn’t matter. He just keeps going. “You told me you love me. Do you only live for love, kitten?”
“I live f-for loving you, S-Sukuna,” you respond automatically. “I live for you.”
Sukuna groans like an animal — he adores what a stupid little fuckdoll he has turned you into. He can never get tired of this; he can never let it get away. “You’ll die for me, kitten?”
You nod so quickly you get dizzy. “Yes, a-anything… I’m yours f-forever.”
He calls your name like he has never done before, a little insane, a little sweet. If the sheer size of Sukuna’s genitals aren’t anything to go by, he cums a lot — it oozes out of your cunt before he’s even halfway through, cock throbbing and leaking again and again until you’re filled to the brim. His huge balls smack against your ass as he continues to bully himself inside you, a little more desperate now, intoxicated by his own pleasure.
There’s no rest, there never is. He only takes and takes.
“I’ll make you mine,” he groans.
“I’m yours, Sukuna, I’m yours…” you repeat like a broken record, half-aware of your own voice through the loud moans and hiccups. You watch in ecstasy as he uses one of his sharp nails to cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out of it and dropping on your breasts. It’s like you know what he will say even before he says it. “You want me t-to-“
“Drink it.”
Perhaps you should be scared, but you’re not. Your mouth opens without a second thought and he presses his large palm on your lips, muffling your moans and allowing the hot dark liquid to invade your tongue. Sukuna’s blood is thick and it tastes like poison, but you do as he says, liking his flesh and drinking it until he seems satisfied and takes his hand away.
It strikes your body like an arrow, straight through your chest and expanding like deep roots. You feel as his blood burns your insides, changing something in your very existence. It’s hard to think through the sensations — the pleasure building up, the venom running through your veins, the mixture of devotion and fear that dances inside your mind. Your vision is double, black around the edges, and you think you might be cumming but you’re not sure you can even feel your body anymore. Sukuna’s voice echoes muffled in the background, and you can see his mouth moving in slow motion, but you don’t understand his words. You think you are crying. You think you can’t breathe. You think you are dying and being born at the same time and you don’t know why you feel so grateful for it all.
Your lungs are on fire and your throat is dry. You try to speak, but can’t. You have the vague flashback of the time your uncle made you drink alcohol, it burns just the same, but this time, no one is laughing. This time, you’re dying.
“… at me.”
This time, Sukuna’s voice rings sharp and clear. You stare at him, confused, as the flames inside your chest slowly subside.
“Keep looking at me,” he repeats, commanding.
You try to nod, but your head doesn’t move. You can’t see the room around you anymore. “H-Hurts,” you manage to get out.
“I know,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his voice you don’t ignore. “Focus on me. I’ll make it feel better.”
And that’s what you try to do, even if your soul seems to be floating miles above your body. You look down at where he is still moving in and out of you, at the white-coated mess that drips from your hole and soaks your inner thighs. It doesn’t seem to hurt as badly now, like your body is changing to accommodate him even better — in fact, it feels like heaven.
You look up at him, dumbfounded. “I t-think I’m going to cum, Sukuna,” the words come easier now, and you feel like you can move again. Though, it still feels like a dream. “It’s so g-good.”
“Cum on my fat cock, then, make me proud,” he coos. You close your eyes and nod, trying to focus on the paradise that blooms between your legs. You feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock; hear the lewd squelching sounds of his cum leaking out of you. It comes to you faster than you would have imagined, washing through your body like a wave as you cry and shake miserably. “That’s my girl, fuck, there we go, that’s my perfect little girl.”
The spasming of your walls manages to milk more cum out of him and he groans loudly as he releases inside you once more. Sukuna cums so much it makes you breathless, filling you again and again until he’s satisfied and the sheets beneath you have no salvation left.
“There we go, take everything,” he says in a strained groan, “every fucking drop inside this tight fucking cunt.”
Sukuna looks absolutely insane above you — fucking his cock so hard into you that it seems like he will never have the chance again; eyes blown wide and his teeth clenched. You cum again, this time a little softer, as you feel his thick cock shoot a specially large amount of cum inside your pussy, and wait until he’s done using your body.
Eventually, he settles, pressing his forehead against yours and looking deep inside your eyes. The redness in them is shining like flames, watching every movement of your face.
“Feels weird,” you say. “I feel dizzy.”
He chuckles and removes himself from you. Another white-hot wave gushes out of your cunt, and he sits back to watch it drip. “There we go, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You swallow, your tongue is still numb inside your mouth. “It was horrible, Sukuna. I felt like I was going to die.”
Sukuna smiles and uses two fingers to push some of his cum back inside you. “I can promise you it was better than when I did,” he says, and you’re confused for a moment. “But now we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, my sweet thing. Those pathetic little sorcerers won’t want you.”
“H-How are you so sure?” You ask.
“Aw, my sweet, stupid little girl.” He pouts, condescending as always. “No one will want to save a curse now.”
Your eyes widen. “Did you…?”
“I told you.” Sukuna licks his own blood at the corner of your mouth. “You are mine forever.”
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Gateway AK for AR guys (MK47)
MARCEDRIC KIRBY FOUNDER CEO.
MARCEDRIC.KIRBY INC.
THE VALLEY OF THE VAMPIRES
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Better Than An AK47 Pistol | CMMG Dissent MK47 12.5inch Pistol
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Another one for the Silent But Deadly challenge! This carbine is conceptually a hybrid between the CMMG MK47 Mutant and the Broad River Tactical CAR-15 SD. It's an integrally-suppressed semi-auto chambered in 7.92x36. Not sure if it should be common, or a unique called the Chimera.
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Colt CZ Acquires MK47 Automatic Grenade Launcher System Technology
Colt CZ Group SE hereby announces that it acquired intellectual property rights for the Mk 47 automatic grenade launcher from General Dynamics Ordnance and Tactical Systems (“GD-OTS” or “General Dynamics”). Colt CZ Group, through its subsidiary Colt, has acquired ownership of the Mk 47 40mm Advanced Lightweight Grenade Launcher system, including the Fire Control, from General Dynamics Ordnance…
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Is This Rifle Better Than The AK-47? - MK47 CMMG Dissent First Mag
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9 kills from a duo win vs AI easy mode with me getting the last kill with FN SCAR-L, AKM, Beryl M762, and CMMG Mk47 AKS13.
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