#in how they carry themselves moment to moment

[mononijikayu]

marry you — ryomen sukuna.

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?" Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!" Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 7.4k words

NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again!!!)~ this is the final (maybe) installment of amnesia and a day in a life . reader and sukuna have been together for a while after this. they're much happier and healthy here. yuji loves his unckuna and auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a ball writing this because i just, this was fun. seeing sukuna be silly. anyway i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3 also @midnight-138, this is for you, im sorry for my angsty writing <3

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── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

THERE WAS NEVER A TIME IN HIS LIFE THAT ANYTHING WAS NOT MEASURED. Ryomen Sukuna had always lived by the belief that precision and decisiveness were the cornerstones of strength. His brother, Jin, was the opposite in that regard.

Jin was easygoing, someone who flowed through life with a relaxed confidence. That’s how he had ended up casually taking his wife Kaori’s name without a second thought after marriage, something that had never sat well with Sukuna. 

It wasn’t that Sukuna found it disrespectful; rather, he simply couldn't understand how someone could relinquish a piece of themselves so easily. To Sukuna, names held power, identity, and control. They were not to be changed on a whim.

And most of all, it was who he was. If his brother was going to let the name die, who would continue it? Yet maybe, that’s besides the point. Because it wasn’t the point.

The point was this — Ryomen Sukuna found himself in an unusual position, plagued by doubt. Unlike his brother, who easily adapted and made decisions without looking back, Sukuna was being dragged through an internal war, and this was uncharted territory for him.

He had always been sure—sure of his choices, sure of his actions, sure of his strength. Whether in battle or in the mundane aspects of life, he operated with an unshakable conviction. It had defined him for so long.

Except now, with the ring in his hand, everything felt different. 

For months, Sukuna had been reduced to a more fragile version of himself, struggling with emotions he thought he had long buried, emotions he used to scoff at as weakness.

But this—this wasn’t a trivial matter, not something he could merely slice through with a sharp blade or dismiss with his usual unyielding demeanor. This wasn’t about power or domination. It was about vulnerability, commitment, and the gravity of the choice he was about to make.

The ring wasn’t just a symbol; it was a testament to something far deeper. Sukuna had never hesitated before. But for the first time, he was wrestling with fear—the fear of being vulnerable, of giving a piece of himself away, just as his brother had done so easily. But was it really a weakness? Or had he, all this time, misunderstood the strength it took to let someone in?

He had bought it months ago. A shimmering band, simple yet unmistakably meaningful, one that carried the weight of everything he had come to feel for you. Every glance, every brush of your hand, every laugh—each moment had woven itself into the threads of his existence. And now, here he was, staring at this small, ridiculous piece of jewelry like it was the most dangerous object in the world.

He wanted to propose.

He had never wanted anything so badly in his life. He wanted to tell you, to kneel (a position he never imagined himself in) and offer you the promise of forever. The thought was absurd, wasn’t it? Him kneeling before someone?

Yet for you, the idea seemed... right. He didn’t just want you; he wanted to spend the rest of his days making you happy, something he had never imagined himself capable of until you.

And that’s what drove him mad.

He didn’t know how to do it. How was a man like him supposed to express something so fragile? Words weren’t his strong suit, and even if he could gather them, they always seemed to fall short when it came to you. How could he ever explain the storm of emotions, the way you’d carved a place for yourself in his blackened heart? The very thought of it made his fingers clenched into fists.

The timing, too—it was never right. Every time he thought he might do it, something held him back. What if he wasn’t enough? What if, despite everything, you said no? The ring burned in his pocket like a curse of its own, a reminder of everything he wasn’t sure he deserved.

Ryomen Sukuna who’s been in delinquent clubs, who’s been the most fearsome wrestler and now undefeated weightlifter — who has done anything, and yet never been frightened. Not at all. But proposing to you? That terrified him.

Sukuna wasn’t used to nerves, but ever since he bought that ring, they seemed to follow him everywhere. And as much as he hated to admit it, Sukuna was struggling. So, he decided he was going to get this over with—no more overthinking. How hard could it be, really? It was just a proposal. 

Attempt one: At dinner.

The scene was set. A quiet, candlelit dinner at your favorite restaurant. It was your birthday. No perfect day, right? It was everything that you could ever want. It was intimate, it was heartfelt and it was just completely perfect.

Ryomen Sukuna had been uncharacteristically calm the whole night, which should have tipped you off that something was up. Between bites of your meal, you saw him fiddling with something in his pocket. Your face scrunches at the sight of him. And then your boyfriend cleared his throat—a sound that, for someone as confident as him, felt almost foreign.

“So, baby….” he began, trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked just a bit. “How would you feel about spending the rest of your life—”

Suddenly, the waiter appeared with a massive tray of dessert samples.

“Would you like to try our seasonal—”

Sukuna glared at the waiter, his red eye twitching as the moment slipped through his fingers. You tried to stifle your laugh as the waiter, completely oblivious, kept talking about tiramisu. Sukuna nearly cursed the man on the spot, but instead, he dropped the conversation. That’s just as one would say — strike one.

Attempt two: Movie night.

Alright, he thought, a more relaxed setting would be better. Just you, him, and some stupid romantic movie you insisted on watching. This was just as intimate as the first one, but maybe a little bit more animated. Still, it was just between you two.

He thinks you would love it like this. The ring was ready in his hoodie pocket, and halfway through the movie, as the cheesy proposal scene played out on the screen, he thought, This is it. This is the moment.

But just as he leaned closer to you, reaching for the ring, the actor on screen dropped to one knee in front of the actress, who acted stunned. Everyone around the actors gasped and started freaking out and clapping. You groaned, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it.

“Oh my god, if anyone ever proposed to me like that!” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sorry baby, but I ain’t that gal. I’d die of second-hand embarrassment.”

Your boyfriend Sukuna froze, hand halfway to his pocket, and quickly pretended he was just stretching. He slumped back on the couch, gritting his teeth.

Not like that, got it.

Attempt three: At the gym.

This was it. No more romantic crap—just you and him doing something you both enjoyed. He’d taken you to the gym, your regular workout routine in full swing. He figured the casual vibe would work, that maybe he could just slip the proposal into conversation like it was no big deal. Everything about this was perfect. Everything was going to go the way he wanted. Yup, that’s how it will go.

The problem? Sukuna wasn’t built for “casual.” 

He spotted you while you were doing squats, casually throwing out, “You know… we should, uh, work on something long-term together, baby.”

“Huh? A long term plan?” You huffed back at him, your brows furrowed.

“I mean….something concrete. Like….like, something for us, you know? A long time.”

You blinked up at him, catching your breath. “Like a couple’s fitness plan?”

“Or... you know... life. Forever. Together.”

You squinted at him. “Are you feeling okay, baby? You sound delirious.”

He muttered something about “too many reps” and practically sprinted to the other side of the gym, leaving you utterly confused. Everyone was just as confused. You looked at the store clerk, Uraume but they just shrugged at you. You guess it was just one of those days.

Attempt four: The kitchen.

Ryomen Sukuna had woken up that morning and decided today’s the day. He was done failing, and he wasn’t going to overthink it anymore. He could do this. He knows he can. It wasn’t rocket science. People proposed all the time, and somehow they survived. And it happens, it ends up happening. Everything after that always ends up in a wedding. Yeah, he can do this. 

You were making breakfast, humming to yourself, when Sukuna casually strolled into the kitchen, the ring in his pocket yet again. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching you. You were the only person who could make something as mundane as cracking eggs look beautiful. 

You looked up to him and smiled, greeting him sweetly. God, you were so beautiful. You looked like you were made from heaven. A genuine angel, as you asked him if he wanted coffee. He mumbled back and cleared his throat. You moved over to the other counter and started the coffee machine.

“Hey, babe.” he began, trying to sound nonchalant, but there was an odd edge to his voice. “How do you feel about... I don’t know... spending the rest of your life with me?”

Without looking up, you shrugged. “Sounds good. Can you pass me the salt?”

He blinked, caught off guard. “Wait—what?”

You finally glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “I said, yeah, sounds good. Now the salt, please?”

Sukuna stood there, frozen. Was that a yes? Did you even know he was proposing?

You stared at him, still waiting for the salt shaker. When he didn’t move, you walked over and grabbed it yourself. “Thanks, big guy.” you said with a playful smile, clearly unaware that Sukuna had just (sort of) proposed.  “Now, do you want some avocado on your toast today or nah?”

He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. It was hard for him to be angry with you either. You were too cute. Another failure.

Attempt five: The supermarket.

The ring still in his pocket, Ryomen Sukuna was now truly desperate. At this point, he was just winging it. You were both running errands, and as you reached for a carton of eggs in the store, he thought, Screw it. There were no romantic backdrops, no candles, no cheesy movie scenes—just the fluorescent lights of the grocery store. Your day to day. Nothing too much. This was now or never.

“Listen, baby.” he said, his tone more urgent than usual. “What if we just—”

At that moment, a kid ran by with a cart, ramming it right into Sukuna’s leg. A light groan came out of Sukuna as the kid’s eyes grew wide. Sukuna’s eyes turned dark as he glared at the kid. The kid swallowed the bile down his throat. As he was about to move, you called Sukuna. The kid let out a yelp and started pushing his cart. 

The child screamed, “Sorry, mister!” and ran off, leaving your boyfriend in a state of pandemonium.

You, still holding the eggs, glanced at him for a moment and burst out laughing.

He sighed, slumping against the shelf. “I’m never going to get this right, am I?”

You smiled, stepping closer and poking his chest. “Get what right, baby?”

Sukuna glanced at the ring still burning in his pocket and grumbled, “Nothing. Just... forget it.”

You didn’t push him, but your knowing smile told him you weren’t entirely clueless. Maybe you had been waiting all along. Maybe, despite all his ridiculous failed attempts, you already knew what was coming. 

Maybe, the next time he tried, you’d say yes before he even finished his sentence.

And maybe, that was exactly what he needed to hear.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

HIS MOTHER USED TO SAY THAT OLDER BROTHERS KNEW BEST. But in all his life, Ryomen Sukuna liked to pride himself never needing to end up asking his elder brother for advice. Or any help at all, if he was being honest. The scarlet eyed man never liked having his brother do things for him. He doesn’t like owing anyone anything. 

Because Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for asking anyone for advice—especially not about matters of the heart. 

But after months of failed attempts, Sukuna could only find himself sitting in his brother Jin’s living room, slouched on the couch with his hands pressed against his face. He had to give in and concede to what his mother said. His brother knew best. And he should ask him. The ring still weighed heavy in his pocket, mocking him at every turn. His mother’s nagging words came to him, almost as though she would still be pinching his ear. Maybe if you asked your brother, you wouldn’t be suffering like this!

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, bro.” Sukuna muttered, his voice low, clearly frustrated. “I’ve been trying for months, bro. Months. Every time I think I’ve got it right, something goes wrong. I’ve got the ring. I’ve got the words. But I don’t know... it’s like nothing’s perfect enough. I don’t want to screw this up.”

Jin, ever calm and collected compared to his fiery younger brother, chuckled from across the room. He sat in his armchair, reading glasses perched on his nose, looking up from the book he had been reading. “You’re overthinking it, Kuna.”

“Overthinking?” Sukuna scoffed, sitting up and glaring at his brother. “I can’t just walk up and throw the ring at the love of my life, you know? They deserve something... more from me. I want it to be perfect.”

Jin set his book down and leaned back in his chair, the corners of his mouth turning up in a nostalgic smile. “You know, I went through something similar when I proposed to Kaori.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “You? Really? You seem so... calm about all of this.”

Jin laughed, shaking his head. “Calm? Hardly. I was a wreck. I had all these elaborate plans I worked really hard on. I thought I’d propose on a sunset beach or during some elegant dinner. But none of it worked out the way I thought.”

Sukuna frowned, curious despite himself. “So what did you do?”

Jin scratched the back of his head, clearly amused by the memory. “We were on a road trip—just a spontaneous one. I think that’s when we decided to go north. We got lost. The car broke down multiple times in the middle of nowhere, and it started pouring rain. Hard. We were soaked, stuck under a leaky gas station awning, of all places. There was nothing romantic about all of it. And yet…..well, it was what it was.”

Sukuna stared at him, baffled. “That sounds terrible.”

“It was, little brother.” Jin agreed, grinning. “But Kaori laughed through the whole thing. She thought it was hilarious. And that’s when I realized—there wasn’t going to be a perfect moment. So, I just asked her. Right there, soaking wet, covered in mud and all the dirt in the world. I didn’t even have the ring on me because I’d left it in the car. But I asked anyway.”

“And she said yes?” Sukuna asked, still trying to wrap his mind around how his brother had managed to pull that off.

Jin nodded with a wide smile. “Without hesitation. Because, little brother, it didn’t matter where we were or how it looked. What mattered was that I was asking her to spend her life with me. She didn’t care about the setting or the way I asked. She just cared about me. And wanting to continue loving me. So, she just said yes. Damn the world or what was good. She just…wanted me.”

Sukuna exhaled, leaning back again and letting that sink in. “I just... I don’t know if I can be that casual about it. I want the love of my life to love it. I want it to be... memorable.”

Jin leaned forward, his voice gentle. “It doesn’t have to be perfect, Kuna. It just has to be you. And about your love together. If sis in law does love you, it’ll be great no matter what. It will just happen. Trust me.”

Sukuna sighed, resting his head against the back of the couch. “I hope you���re right. I just—” 

Before he could finish, the door to the room burst open, and Yuji bounced in, grinning from ear to ear. He was still dressed in his football uniform. “Uncle Sukuna! I heard you’re going to propose! Let me help!”

Sukuna groaned. The kid had such good ears, damn him. “Oi, brat! This is... it’s not something I need help with.’specially not from you! It’s—”

“Oh, come on! I’ve got great ideas, unc! We can do fireworks, or... or maybe we can surprise auntie with, like, a whole flash mob at the mall!” Yuji’s excitement was contagious, but Sukuna could feel a headache forming at the thought of any of those ideas. “I think auntie will love it, you know?”

“No flash mobs, Yuji.”

Yuji pouted for a moment, but then his face brightened again. “Okay, okay, what about a treasure hunt? Like, you leave little clues everywhere, and the final clue leads to you with the ring! I mean, auntie would love that! Auntie’s always been someone who likes puzzles!”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jin, who was barely hiding his laughter behind his hand. His brother was enjoying this little misery of his. His nephew’s barely thirteen and yet he’s got the idealistic mind. Too much like his brother, Sukuna thinks. But then again, his mother’s the same sort of human being. 

“Hey brat, I don’t think your auntie appreciates getting dragged across the city just to find me with a ring at the end.” Sukuna said, though there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes now. “Auntie would get tired really fast then ask where’s the nearest soda shop.”

Yuji shrugged. “Well, whatever you do, it’ll be awesome. You’re awesome! Auntie will totally say yes.” He gave Sukuna a thumbs up, his usual boundless optimism shining through. “I mean, auntie’s been with you too long, so it's just bound to settle like that.”

“Wait, what do you mean settle—”

“Hey, hey! I didn’t mean anything mean about it.” Yuji pouted at his uncle defensively. “You know that much, unc! I love seeing you and auntie together.”

Sukuna shook his head at his nephew, though a small, begrudging smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Thanks, brat.”

Jin, watching the exchange, nodded in agreement. “See, Kuna? It doesn’t matter how you do it. It’ll be great, because it’s coming from you.”

Sukuna sighed, feeling the weight of the ring in his pocket one more time. “I guess... I’ll just have to stop thinking so much and go for it.”

Yuji’s grin stretched even wider. “That’s the spirit now, unc! And if you change your mind about the flash mob, I’m totally in.”

Sukuna chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Yuji, still bouncing with excitement, suddenly lit up with an idea. "Oh! I know! Why don’t you come and coach my football team for a day? You can do it there!" 

Sukuna blinked, utterly baffled by the suggestion. "Coach... football? What are you talking about, brat?"

Yuji was practically vibrating with energy now. "It’s perfect! You can come to practice, and we’ll, I don’t know, pretend something happened—like, I could pretend I twisted my ankle or something—and then, boom! You step in, gather everyone around, and propose! Auntie will be there all excited to be there and cheer us and you on."

Sukuna stared at him for a long moment, his face a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You want me to propose... during a football practice?"

Yuji nodded enthusiastically, as if it were the best idea in the world. "Yeah! It’s unexpected, and you’ll have the whole team there! Megs and Norbs can help out too! Everyone will be pumped, and the atmosphere will be amazing!"

Sukuna groaned, leaning his head back against the couch. "That’s... quite possibly the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."

But before he could properly dismiss the idea, Jin let out a hearty laugh from his chair. “Why not, little brother? It’s certainly different. Do you have any better ideas?” 

Sukuna shot him a look, but Jin just grinned. He could see his brother’s frustration boiling over, but there was also something else—maybe Sukuna was finally realizing that no moment was ever going to feel perfect. Not in the way he imagined.

“Come on, come on.” Jin said, still chuckling. “I mean, think about it. It’s so out of character for you that it might actually work. A little spontaneity never hurts anyone.”

Sukuna rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “You really think I should just... go to a football practice and pop the question in front of a bunch of sweaty teenagers?”

Yuji jumped in again, totally on board with his own wild idea. “Yeah! And I’ll totally sell it—I’ll limp off the field, everyone will be worried, and then you step up like a hero. I can already picture it!” He waved his arms dramatically, trying to sell the scene. "It’ll be epic."

Jin crossed his arms, his grin still plastered on his face. "It’s unconventional, sure. But it’s definitely memorable. And isn’t that what you wanted?"

Sukuna sighed, the absurdity of it all weighing on him. Coaching Yuji’s football team, of all things, to propose? He couldn’t believe this was even a conversation. Yet, as ridiculous as it sounded, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it might actually work.

Not because it was perfect—but because it was so wildly unexpected that it would leave you speechless. Maybe, after all these failed attempts, that was what he needed.

Still, he grumbled, "If this goes wrong, I’m cursing both of you."

Yuji laughed, slinging an arm over Sukuna’s shoulder, clearly unfazed by the threat. "It’s going to be great, Unc Sukuna! Trust me!"

Jin, still leaning back in his chair, raised an eyebrow. "So, is that a yes? You’re actually going to do this, little brother? No more backing out?”

Sukuna slumped back on the couch, rubbing his temples. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... yeah. Fine. Let’s try it your way, Yuji."

Yuji fist-pumped the air, grinning ear to ear. "Yes! This is going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see their faces when you finally propose!"

Sukuna let out a deep sigh, glancing at Jin one last time. His older brother gave him an encouraging nod. What does he have left to lose? If anything, if it works — maybe you’ll laugh it off. And he…he likes seeing you smile anyway. What does he have left to lose?

“You’re overthinking it again, little brother.” Jin reminded him. “Just do it, hm? It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Sukuna could only hope his brother was right.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

THE NEXT DAY, YOU DIDN’T FEEL LIKE GOING TO WORK. So, you had decided to stay lazily at home with Sukuna and just enjoy his day off together. Well, it worked out better considering that Sukuna informed your office you’ll be out for a while anyway. You happily hummed as you started making your cup of matcha milk for yourself. So far everything was well. In fact, the day had been going pretty normally. 

But then you could only blink at him when Sukuna, of all people, approached you in the kitchen, casually leaning against the counter. He looked... slightly awkward, which was unusual for him. His scarlet eyes darted away for a moment before landing back on you.

“Hey, baby….” he said, almost too casually. “You wanna come to Yuji’s football game tomorrow?”

You blinked in surprise. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the type to invite you to these things. Usually, Yuji was the one who asked, and then Sukuna would begrudgingly tag along, acting like he was too cool to care. But now, he was asking you directly?

“You’re asking me to go?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “And also….you wanna go?”

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed. “Yeah. Is that... a problem or something?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to hide your smile. “No, not at all. I’d love to go. It’s just... surprising coming from you. Usually, you wait until Yuji begs you to show up.”

Sukuna shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing just a bit. “Yeah, well... I’m gonna be more involved this time.”

Your curiosity piqued, you leaned forward. “What do you mean? Like, are you finally going to cheer from the sidelines instead of pretending not to care?”

He looked away again, mumbling under his breath, “I’m coaching the team.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”

Sukuna shot you a look, already regretting this conversation. “You heard me. I’m gonna be their coach... for the game. Just a trial…..It’s just…. Maybe a one time thing.”

The shock only lasted a second before you burst out laughing, unable to help yourself. The image of Sukuna, towering and intimidating, trying to coach a bunch of high school kids was just too much. It was all too much for you to think about your boyfriend. He crossed his arms on his chest like a little kid.

“Stop laughing.” he grumbled, clearly annoyed but also embarrassed.

You waved a hand, trying to catch your breath. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I’m just... I’m just imagining you barking orders at those poor kids like you do with your clients at the gym.”

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at you, crossing his arms. “That’s not how I coach at the gym.”

“Oh really?” you teased, still giggling. “You’re not going to stand on the sidelines, yelling ‘Run faster, you idiot!’ and ‘Stop slacking off, sweat it off!’ like you do with your trainees?”

“Of course not, babe.” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips now. “Those brats won’t know what hit them.”

Your laughter continued, but now it was filled with genuine amusement. “I can’t wait to see this. You, coaching a bunch of teenagers, pretending to know anything about football. Oh, this will be gold, baby. I’m in!”

Sukuna groaned, running a hand down his face. “You’re really not helping, you know.”

“I’m sorry baby.” you said, still grinning as you put a thumb up. “I just can’t picture it without laughing. But hey, I’m sure you’ll do great.”

He grumbled under his breath again, but you could see the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’d better not laugh when you see me out there.”

“No promises here, baby.” you teased, stepping closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “But I’ll be there, front and center, cheering you on.”

Ryomen Sukuna rolled his eyes, but the blush creeping up his neck told you everything you needed to know. Despite his gruff demeanor, he was secretly pleased. And maybe—just maybe—this ridiculous plan wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You know Yuji loves some good orange juice, so you brought cold packs of that in the cooler too. You supposed you could say that you were more excited than most. You had the full gear from their team and everything. It was something you requested from Sukuna and he got it for you before yesterday, when he got his own uniform. 

YOU DIDN’T SLEEP A WINK. But you couldn’t help it. You were too excited. The practices wee nice but each time you had to leave earlier for work. But this time, you got to have a full day just being there. These past few days, Sukuna's been in a gloom but he reassured you that its nothing. You wanted to press, but you knew your boyfriend too well to pry.

You were just one excited soul to be here. It was the tournament league now. And Yuji's team made it through the finals. You brought packs of snacks for you and Sukuna, some for the kids too in case their moms didn’t have anything on them. Some cold drinks too.

And now, you found yourself standing by the field, watching as Sukuna walked out with the team. The sun was brilliantly bright, and there was a decent crowd, mostly parents and students, filling the bleachers.

But your beaming eyes were glued to the unlikely sight before you: Ryomen Sukuna, your intimidating, tough-as-nails partner, now wearing a whistle around his neck and a deeply annoyed expression as he dealt with a bunch of teenage boys.

You could see precious Itadori Yuji bouncing around excitedly, clearly thrilled that Sukuna had agreed to coach. The rest of the team, however, seemed slightly nervous under Sukuna’s intense gaze.

Yuji’s two close friends, Fushiguro Megumi and Kugisaki Nobara, didn’t seem to care and were just playing with the balls and gloves, tossing to each other. But their nonchalant behavior was a stark contrast from everyone else. Some of them glanced back at you, probably wondering why this mountain of a man was suddenly in charge. But you don’t blame any of them. Your boyfriend did look imposing. 

Sukuna blew the whistle sharply, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing again. He barked out orders like a drill sergeant, his deep voice carrying across the field. “You—stop dragging your feet! Move it! You think this is a joke? Pick up the pace!”

You couldn’t help but lean against the fence, shaking your head with a smile. Well, you were right. It was exactly as you had imagined—Sukuna treating this football practice like a high-intensity training session at the gym. The kids were all scrambling around, trying their best not to get on his bad side.

After a particularly harsh instruction, you caught his scarlet eye from across the field. He gave you a look, clearly daring you to laugh, and you had to press your lips together to keep from cracking up. When you got it together, you started clapping and cheering for him. And for a moment, you could see a scarlet tint flush on your boyfriend’s cheek. That had made you smile.

During a water break, Yuji came jogging over, grinning from ear to ear. “How’s Unc Sukuna doing, Auntie? He’s totally killing it, right?”

You smiled and raised an eyebrow. “He’s certainly... in charge. The team looks a little terrified, though. Well, except Nobara and Megumi.”

Yuji chuckled, not even a little bit phased. “Yeah, but they’ll respect him. He’s making them work harder than our regular coach.”

You glanced back at Sukuna, who was currently standing with his arms crossed, scowling as one of the players asked him a question. He looked like he belonged in a weightlifting competition, not on a football field. Your boyfriend could have done so many things, you knew. But he said he got bored of it all, since people keep telling him what to do. But either way, your boyfriend would have ended up looking like this. This hunk of muscular muscle. 

“Well, as long as no one cries, I think it’ll be a success, Yuji!” you teased.

Yuji laughed and then leaned in closer. “So, do you think they suspect anything yet?”

You raised an eyebrow. You were confused. “About what?”

He gave you a mischievous look, a grin playing at the corners of his lips. “You know... Uncle Sukuna’s plan. The proposal.”

You blinked, your smile fading as confusion washed over you. Wait, hold on. Was Yuji talking about Sukuna’s proposal to expand the gym? He’d been telling you about that for months now, outlining every detail, every plan. Surely Sukuna hadn’t forgotten.

“Wait. That’s today?” you asked, half-expecting to hear more about Sukuna's latest gym renovation idea. 

But something in Yuji’s expression didn’t quite fit the usual conversation. His grin widened, almost teasing. You suddenly had the sinking feeling you might not be on the same page at all. But just as you were going to go and talk to him about it, the whistle blew again, and the game began. Yuji saluted you and ran off to the field once again.

You tried to keep your eyes on the match, the sounds of cheers and the smack of fists hitting against gloves filling the air, but your mind was elsewhere. Sukuna’s plan. It kept creeping into your thoughts, pulling your focus away from the fight.

He had been working tirelessly on the gym expansion for months, meticulously coordinating every detail. The proposal with the contractor was a major step, one he had been looking forward to with a mix of excitement and that quiet intensity he always had when he wanted something done perfectly.

But now, you couldn’t shake the worry creeping up your spine. If Yuji’s casual comment about the proposal meant what you thought it did, then something had gone wrong. Sukuna must have missed the meeting with the contractor. Your boyfriend never missed important business meetings, especially not one like this, which was practically the culmination of weeks of hard work and planning. 

You bit your lip, your gaze flickering back to the field, but all you could think about was Sukuna. His sense of control, of always being on top of things—what could have possibly distracted him? And why hadn’t he told you? Maybe you could’ve reminded him or helped him juggle things better. 

Your stomach tightened with unease. Sukuna wasn’t the type to slip up like this, not unless something bigger was weighing on him. You’d seen the way he had been acting recently—distracted, quieter than usual, though he would shrug it off if you ever asked. Was this just about the proposal, or was there something else, something deeper he hadn’t shared yet?

As the game continued, it became even more intense, but not nearly as intense as the look Sukuna had on his face as he barked orders from the sidelines. You could see him glancing your way every now and then, his jaw set, his eyes determined. This was insane, even for a league of teenagers in middle school. But you suppose that’s what happens when you put your boyfriend to coach on the field.

As the game drew to a close, with Yuji’s team pulling off a narrow victory, you noticed Sukuna’s posture shift. He was still his usual composed self, but there was something nervous about the way he kept adjusting the whistle around his neck. He takes a moment for a breath. 

When the final whistle blew and the players began congratulating each other, Ryomen Sukuna called out to them. “Alright, listen up! Get over here. I’ve got something to say.”

The entire team gathered around him, and you stood at the edge of the field, your heart pounding as you watched the scene unfold. You could see Yuji trying (and failing) to hide his excitement as he joined the group. Everything about was making you feel like you were going to lose it.

Sukuna cleared his throat, looking oddly serious. “There’s someone here today who’s... important to me.”

The players exchanged confused glances, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you realized he was talking about you.

Sukuna continued, his voice a little gruffer than usual. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, and I’ve been trying really hard to make this happen. I really have been. And I just…I’ve been thinking, to hell with it. We might as well go through with it. Even if it's going to be too much and lame.” He shot a pointed look at Yuji, who gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

Your heart was racing now, and you could feel the eyes of the team turning toward you. Sukuna reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box from his pockets. He opened it and you could clearly see it. There was something small and shiny inside of it. 

“This…..” he said, holding up the ring for everyone to see. “ This is what I’ve been working up the nerve to do for months.”

The entire field went dead silent. The team, the parents in the stands—everyone was watching.

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes finally met yours, and in that moment, all the tough, intimidating layers seemed to peel away. He stepped toward you in the bleachers, his beautiful face softening as he held the ring in his hand.

“I’m not good at speeches. Or, apparently, proposals.” He smirked, and you couldn’t help but smile through the nerves. “But I know one thing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

The world seemed to blur around you as Sukuna knelt down, holding out the ring. “So, what do you say?”

Your heart swelled as you took in the sight of him—this fierce, stubborn man who had somehow, in his own awkward way, found the perfect moment. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes as you whispered the only answer you could give.

“Yes.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, with Yuji practically jumping up and down as the team whooped and clapped. Sukuna stood, slipping the ring onto your finger, and pulled you into a tight embrace, his breath warm against your ear as he murmured, “Told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”

You laughed softly, wiping away a tear. “It was more than perfect.”

Ryomen Sukuna grinned, leaning down to kiss you as the noise of the crowd faded into the background. Everything about the past? That didn’t matter at all now. Because all this, this is what mattered. After all that you both went through, after all that happens — everything was well. Because he was going to marry you. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

epilogue

As Sukuna pulled you close, his lips brushing against yours, the cheers and whistles from the crowd surrounded you both. Yuji, of course, was the loudest, pumping his fists in the air and hyping up the team, who were now clapping and laughing at the unexpected turn of events.

“Unc Sukuna’s engaged!” Yuji shouted, jumping onto the field. “Best day ever!”

You pulled back slightly from the kiss, your face flushed and your heart still racing, meeting Sukuna’s gaze. His scarlet eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, standing in the middle of a whirlwind of noise and celebration. He took your hand, where the ring sat on your finger and placed a small kiss upon it. You grew even more flustered.

Sukuna sighed, his lips curving into a rare, genuine smile. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

You chuckled, brushing a hand against his cheek. “Believe it. You just proposed in front of an entire football team.”

He groaned slightly, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Nope. But I love that you did it.”

His arms tightened around you for a moment before he pulled back, glancing at the team who were still buzzing with excitement. He gave them a half-hearted glare. “Alright, enough gawking. Get off the field. We still have a game to win.”

The boys quickly scattered, though you could see the smirks and murmurs they exchanged as they left. Megumi and Nobara were snickering at how soft their coach Sukuna was looking at you. Your nephew Yuji, of course, was the last one standing there, grinning like an idiot.

“So, Unc Sukuna,” Yuji said, nudging his uncle’s arm. “How’d it feel to propose in front of an audience? Pretty cool, huh?”

Sukuna shot him a deadpan look. “Brat, don’t think I’ve forgotten this was your idea.”

Yuji only grinned wider, completely unfazed. “But it worked! Look at that ring! And look at auntie’s face!” He pointed to you, beaming. “You guys are the cutest engaged couple ever!”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yuji, stop embarrassing your uncle.”

Sukuna crossed his arms, shaking his head in exasperation. “You’ve been spending too much time around Gojo, I swear to god.” he muttered under his breath, glancing at Yuji with mock annoyance. “I better tell your dad to never let you back in Fushiguro’s house.”

Yuji just shrugged. “Hey, I’m just a romantic at heart. I love seeing love win!”

Before Sukuna could retaliate, his elder brother Jin appeared from the sidelines, clapping his younger brother on the shoulder. “See? I told you it didn’t have to be perfect.”

Sukuna let out a long sigh, shooting Jin a look. “Yeah, yeah. I guess you were right.”

Jin raised an amused brow. “Guess?”

“Fine, fine.” Sukuna grumbled, a reluctant smirk forming. “You were right.”

Jin grinned. “That’s more like it. And for what it’s worth, little brother, you pulled it off pretty damn well. Look at that, you’re getting married. I’m so proud of you, hm?”

Sukuna grunted, still not entirely comfortable with the praise, but you could see the tension slowly leave his body. He wasn’t one to bask in sentimental moments, but for this one, he was letting himself enjoy it. 

“Thanks….big brother.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go back to the bleachers. Kaori’s gonna get lonely.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s meet down here so we can have dinner together.”

Jin grinned. “Oh, you’re paying tonight?”

“Oh, don’t think too far like that, big brother.”

Yuji, still full of energy, suddenly clapped his hands together. “Alright! Since you two are officially engaged, I think it’s time we celebrate!”

You glanced at Sukuna, who rolled his eyes but didn’t object. “Sure, why not?” he said with a shrug. “But I’m picking the place. No weird restaurants.”

Yuji pouted. “But there’s this ramen shop Gojo–sensei recommended—”

“No.” Sukuna said flatly, his tone brooking no argument.

You smiled, leaning into Sukuna’s side. “Wherever you want to go, we’ll go.”

Sukuna looked down at you, a rare warmth softening the usual intensity of his gaze. His voice, normally edged with authority, held a surprising tenderness. “I’ll think of something. Now go on. Go finish the game.”

You turned toward Yuji, who was standing there, clearly wanting to argue. “But unc—” he started, but Sukuna cut him off before he could finish.

“I said go!” Sukuna’s voice, firm but not unkind, sent Yuji running back to the field, his frustration bubbling over as he shouted, “It’s not fair!”

You watched Yuji dash off, his protests lost in the sound of his feet pounding the grass, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. He had always been full of energy, bouncing between enthusiasm and impatience, and Sukuna loved to tease him for it—though Yuji never seemed to take it lightly.

Turning back to your fiancé, you shot him a playful pout. “Must you tease him so much? He did help you propose, you know?”

Sukuna exhaled, a faint sigh escaping him as his hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. “Eh, He can handle a little teasing.”

You tilted your head, studying Sukuna’s face. Even though his words were casual, there was a deeper affection in them, one that wasn’t always so visible. Yuji, in his own way, had been a part of your lives, and you knew Sukuna cared for him more than he’d ever let on. But Sukuna’s way of showing love was always layered with a bit of roughness, teasing, and challenges—he never made things too easy, even for those closest to him.

“He’s just a kid,” you murmured, leaning into him, your pout softening as you placed your hands on his chest. “He looks up to you, you know.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, his eyes flickering with amusement. “Yeah, well, he should know by now I’m not gonna go easy on him.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile broke through your pout. “Maybe try cutting him some slack next time. You can’t torment him every time he tries to help.”

“Torment?” Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Come on, he loves it.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced toward the field, where Yuji was back in action, still muttering something under his breath. “Besides, if I didn’t push him, who would?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, giving his chest a playful shove. “Alright, alright. But don’t be too hard on him. He really did come through for us.”

Sukuna’s expression softened again, and he gave you a knowing look. “I know. I’ll make it up to him.”

As you both watch Jin go back to the bleachers with Kaori, you feel your fiance's arms wrap around you. Your hands intertwined and on top of his hand, was your own. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger, your heart swelling with happiness. 

Ryomen Sukuna had surprised you—more than you ever thought he would. And while it hadn’t been a grand, romantic gesture in a traditional sense, it had been perfect in the most Sukuna way possible. Unconventional, slightly chaotic, but undeniably heartfelt.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

you are love itself (君は愛そのものだ)

cw. fem!reader, childhood friend au, established relationship, love as worship, love as a choice, reader has a defined devil fruit ability

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

synopsis. his skin is dotted in stardust.

notes. a 1.3k look into those short moments of privacy you have with ace on the moby. i got the title from 'therefore you and me' after rewatching this amazing asl brothers animatic for the billionth time. cover comes klimt's the kiss (1908).

Everything is made of stardust; the stars that made Ace are simply visible to the eye.

They couldn't be contained in the depths of his body like the rest of the world's inhabitants. It's scattered all across his skin in a beautiful display, matching the skies they fell from. Isn't that something? You brush a hand against warm skin in awe. It's all right there. The stars themselves rest upon his skin, how beautiful is that? How could anyone want someone like that dead?

When you were children, Ace told you he would bring you the moon.

What do you need the moon for when you've been touching the stars since you were 10?

Straddling his lap, you can't help laughing as you think you'd been fighting a losing battle from the start. From the beginning, you'd been drawn to Ace and his stars and you wanted to follow where they'd go for the rest of your life.

"What's so funny?" Ace murmurs into your shoulder.

"I think I was born to love you." It is the only plausible conclusion for you to reach after 10 years of loving the same person. For the half of your life you've known him, you've chosen Ace from day one. You will continue to choose him for the rest of the life you have. You chose to chase him all around Mt. Corvo, you chose to be his friend, you chose to join his crew and your heart chose him even if your head had been slow to realize. "We don't need to find the One Piece," you murmur as you lead a trail of kisses from his shoulder to Ace's cheek. "I already have everything the world has to offer right here."

You feel Ace stiffen beneath you before he laughs sheepishly, "I think you need to have your eyes checked if you think that."

"Hey," you lean back so you can see his face. Your brows are furrowed sternly but your eyes sparkle with mischief and your lips stretch into a challenging grin. "I have better eyes than you, I can see the soul."

Ace snorts but his voice is light and as warm as the smile painting his face, "souls of the dead, yeah." Smiles suit Ace more than the frowns that were once commonplace when you were younger.

"That still counts," you protest with a chuckle. He doesn't have to believe he's worthy of it, you'll tell Ace all the same. You cup his face in your hands and enjoy the vibration of his mellifluous laughter under your fingers tips as you squeeze his cheeks. "There's a lot you can learn about this sort of stuff when you can see the dead." How the soul carries its wounds even after death. How the soul carries the essence of everything that makes something itself. How love can carry on beyond the grave.

You've seen it countless times by now in your truthfully short time of being a power holder.

The spirit of a man who wanted a few berries to leave as a surprise his husband could stumble upon to brighten his day.

An elderly woman dancing in the town square, seemingly alone following the steps she took with her lost love long ago. Unbeknownst to her, however, her love danced with all the same as they did once a long time ago.

Pods of orcas full of members past and present, refusing to part from their birth pod even in death.

How beautiful it is, a love like that.

Even while deceased, they choose to remain by their beloved all the same.

Whenever it is Ace's time, he'll take his stars with him and they will rest on his skin just as they did when he was alive. But I'll make sure you're so happy you won't want to stay, you vowed when you partook of the sea's cursed fruit. You carry this vow even now. Ace will die a happy death but more importantly, he will live a long and mirthful life.

(You can tell for as sure as your eyes are dry; the urge to cry and scream in mourning and warning nonexistent. Still it's your heart's desire that you go first so you don't ever have to risk the day you know death will come for Portgas D. Ace.)

"You know what I think," you cease your pinching, letting your lax thumbs stroke his face. Dark eyes look up at you like you're a dream and gold like sunlight rests in your chest. It's light yet heavy and even if your heart is calm, its rhythmic beating tells you something precious. And he's so, so precious. "I think that when people move on, they're reborn as someone else. Then they get to live life all over again. And one day, that's gonna happen to us."

Then you'll cease to be the 'you' you have been and so will he.

Maybe that time, you'll be raised in separate seas and there will be no trio of brothers you'll latch onto. Maybe he'll be born somewhere in Paradise but I'll be from the West Blue. Or maybe he'll be a fishman. Or a giant!

Maybe next time, Ace will be a short girl with firey auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes with the disposition to match. Or he'll be a scarred and gruff dragon moray eel fishman who is an overt romantic.

Maybe next time his stars will follow him as the marker that ties him to his previous life. Then you'll recognize him the moment you see him. But even if I don't, I'll love you then too. You don't need reminders of who he was to make you want him again.

Whatever the outcome may be, you will embrace it wholly.

"Whenever that happens, I'm gonna find you and I'm going to love you all over again. You can be a girl or a giant or a fishman." Or maybe he'll be the tiny human and you'll be the giant. It will be nice being taller than Ace for once, you tell him as much with a laugh. There's a spot of wetness at the corner of his eyes that you wipe away instinctively. "Or… maybe this world runs in one big loop and we get to be us again but that time we get to make different choices. Do the stuff we didn't do last time. But regardless of all the different things I might end up doing, the one thing that is gonna stay the same is that I'll choose you all over again."

There's a pause before Ace ducks from your gaze with a wet laugh, forehead pressed against your shoulder again. The unmistakeable feel of warm droplets subsequently follow. "Thatch must be cutting onions," he chuckles weakly. "Sorry."

"Dummy," you wrap your arms around his shoulders and inhale his scent. There's a natural sweetness to it you can't explain; it's sweet but there is a peppery kick. It's been that way since the first day you met him. I love him, I love him, I love him. The sentiment echoes throughout your entire being. "it's okay to cry."

"Would you really want me again?" His voice is soft and unsure like a young bird who doesn't know if it can trust its wings.

Who else would I want?

Why would I want anyone else?

I've known you for 10 years, Ace. There's nothing about you I don't want.

"Over and over again," you kiss his temple once, twice and then a third time before you lift his head and kiss the corners of his eyes. "It's you and no one else."

A noise of surprise escapes you when Ace's lips press against your own but you relax a beat later, humming tenderly. You relish every sensation, how his arms wrap around you tight and how his fingers gently dig into your back. The taste of salt on your lips is akin to the ocean and your heartbeat reverberates throughout your chest.

Yes, it's telling you something precious.

[seokka0o]

Koga Yudai ♡ Reader

──┈ׄ─𐨿─┈ࠜ╼Contain: Smut, humping, cockwarming, breeding, pet names, sub! Reader and dom!Kei, unprotected sex (please use protection)

Author: I was on my way to work and this popped into my mind, I'm a slut for this man I swear and I don't regret it, hope enjoy and please leave a feedback ♡

──┈ׄ─𐨿─┈ࠜ╼ this is +18 content and purely fictional, not intended to offend anyone. read with descriptions. Minors do not interact.

1k

The sounds you made were specific, low, and desperate. The feeling was like suffocating, the heat came from your abdomen and rose until it made you dizzy, which made you reconsider all your decisions since then. it was terrible, you consider yourself a good tease, but then your boyfriend who has known you for so long knows more about your limits than you do. Who is smiling, every now and then looking at your face as a kind of entertainment. His cock is growing and growing inside you, throbbing showing how satisfying it seemed to him just to be there watching you try so hard not to move for the sake of your own self-control, because if it were up to him you could have just fucked at the first sign that it would lead nowhere.

Kei smiles and then you are close to falling apart, trapped in his embrace now, he caresses you, inside your shirt, on your warm and sensitive back, he goes down to your ass and squeezes to feel the flesh, taking advantage of the opportunity to move his cock so uniquely to slide a little deeper inside you. You moan so painfully that it seems to really hurt, but you are just trying to contain everything that is inside since the moment you put yourself in this desperate situation, all you could do was regret, Kei with his simple touches did all the work of making you forget the reason why you started this game. You just wanted to bet that they could stay like this without you trying to lose all your control. But you were failing so miserably.

“Come on baby, you can't take it anymore. Did you notice the pool that has already formed... it's just a fuck” he dictated close to your ear, with acidic affection, arms wrapping around your waist as he barely heard your answer before starting to move very slowly, you felt him so slowly tearing you apart, just like his words, Kei was rough in the most subtle way possible, making you moan so delicately and sink into the curve of his neck as if you needed it desperately, like a sulking animal. You lost yourself for a good few thrusts, and when Kei was already starting to pant when you leaned on his chest to sit up and stay still.

“No,” you said breathlessly, your hot, wet, pulsating insides giving away your lie so he could make fun of you in front of your boyfriend once again. He laughed in disbelief and laid his head on the pillow, a little nervous because his body had already entered a state of feeling pleasure corroding him. “We need to be stronger than this.”

“Just because you want to? My love, look at you, I can feel your pussy contracting around my cock… so desperate, you can’t mistreat yourself like that,” Kei commented subtly, with endless naturalness. He ran his fingers over your exposed thighs and up your inner thigh where he caressed you, you trembling under his touch, it was like falling into a sea of ​​endless temptation. “I could make you cum at least three times in the next five minutes and you’re denying me that.”

He complained beforehand, moving his hips so slowly that you hadn't even noticed too much to protest, letting the moans escape so slyly, letting yourself be carried away and moving your own as if you were escaping, but entering into his game like easy prey.

You moaned, slyly, as if you had been waiting for this for a long time, desperate for the sensation of the flesh, your fingers marking themselves on his white shirt, while his hands made more trips than necessary, ass, thighs, back, breasts that he squeezed so lovingly so he could play with the rigid and negligent nipples, in his ears you making the most beautiful sounds, with your body starting to ride lightly.

“Mhm…baby” you sighed and he grunted back.

“Yes, you do it so well, just keep going” he dictated in a sweet tone, feeling his skin burn, they weren’t aggressive moans, it was something so intrinsic that Kei could often only sigh and gasp as you kept that slow and tortuous, a slow and engaging fuck, the two of you dancing, moving your hips towards each other and then in moments your leg was losing strength, without any strength in your voice to express any words, or anything other than a continuous moan.

“So sweet..” he begged for you knowing what was coming, your fingers pushing, your head fell as the air began to run out. Kei let you take your time, watching you lose control, coming and going, letting your voice say what you were feeling, he felt like he could destroy you, but he should let you delight in his cock alone, looking for your own pleasure after denying it for maybe an hour. There was no way he could know. It was magnificent to see.

You lost the air in your lungs, treating your boyfriend like a toy for seconds to spill yourself over him, reaching the limit that took so long to conquer , you lost all your temper, you wanted more and he would give it to you without mercy and without thinking twice. 

“Give me everything, everything you have, baby” he encouraged, feeling his body lose a little in this condition too, his wide and firm fingers held you tightly, Kei was tense, in the middle of your orgasm his arrived and Kei's hips rose so quickly inside that you lingered in the sensation, whispered curses between the muffled sound of his hips hitting against you in a fuck that escalated quickly from something so subtle and sweet to an unprecedented aggressiveness.

Your lips made a synchronicity of sounds to each other, you syllable each other's name so desperately, you held yourself to keep yourself, falling on your boyfriend's body so he could have perfect precision, feeling overstimulated, tired, and he finished with you in an instant, filling all your walls with his pleasure, rolling his eyes so full of that breathtaking feeling, and in the end you were both destroyed and panting, feeling your body so tired from the effort to get there.

[camels-pen]

cycle

Usopp loved his mother.

She worked tirelessly to feed and bathe him. Then play and teach him. Then talk him through the chores when she was too weak to do them herself.

She worked with a whole bunch of papers and spilled ink; he hadn't known it at the time, but she was a novelist and a very good one at that. Her stories kept the roof over their heads, brought them thick coats for winter, and gifted an assortment of toys and paints for Usopp's enjoyment. Sure, he couldn't always get exactly what he wanted, but what kid did?

She raised him to be a good man- a happy man. Put her all into making sure his needs were met and that he'd try to see all the good in the world around him. Appreciate the things he had and not get wrapped up in the small things that go wrong. Like his father did, she'd say fondly.

Usopp loved his mother. He whispered it to himself aloud.

He loved his mother, but she wasn't perfect.

If he weren't totally alone, laying awake in his hammock, he wouldn't even think it. Because she did so much for him. Gave up so much for him. To have him. To stay with him.

And yet-

And yet he thought about it sometimes. The little imperfect moments- ones he'd give anything to experience again. The way some days she'd get all uppity about his patched clothes. The way she'd dismiss him when he mentioned something he learned from the owner of the grocery store. Say you can just pick off the green bits and the bread would be just fine.

The way some days she'd just watch him eat dinner. Explain she'd already eaten with a smile. But her plate was never in the sink.

Whenever they were walking around town together, everyone said their greetings- their hellos and goodbyes- and they were civil. Kind, even. They had no problem arguing, driving hard bargains and making snide remarks about his father, but these were good people. People Usopp was supposed to call if there was ever some kind of emergency, because they would help.

They would always help.

If only someone would ask.

It made him angry. So unbelievably unfathomably angry. So angry he wanted to break every dish in the kitchen, bite through the mast, climb to the top of the crow's nest and scream.

Because even Usopp, a child still small enough to be carried at the hip- though that may have been his mother's stubbornness rather than an indicator of age- could see that his mother desperately needed help.

And he should be mad at the townsfolk. The way they looked the other way, waiting and waiting for... something. A tangible something they could point at and say they needed to intervene. They didn't need to wait so long. They said so themselves not a week after the funeral.

He should be mad at them.

But he can only find anger for her.

Because even when she fell visibly ill- even when the town's only doctor was making monthly, then weekly, then daily trips- she never told anyone. Kept it all to herself. Tried to downplay it to Usopp too, but Usopp wasn't stupid and he'd overheard her talking to the doctor plenty of times. He knew she wasn't well.

And maybe that was the real problem.

He had no right to be angry with his mother. She was doing what she thought was best. It wasn't her fault the stress of her daily life had exacerbated her illness to the point she was bedridden. It wasn't her fault she had to work and raise Usopp entirely on her own. Wasn't the fault of the townsfolk either, considering the brave front his mother always put on.

No, at the end of the day, there was only one person to blame.

Usopp.

He knew how little she was eating. Heard her stifled sobs through his bedroom wall. Saw the way she hunched and stumbled when it was just them.

Most of all, he witnessed firsthand how each day she would get a little bit slower, a little bit weaker, a little bit quieter, until one day she just... stopped.

He knew. Maybe not in the right words or with the right meanings, but he knew there was something wrong. And all he had to do was talk to someone- anyone. Any of the numerous people around town who he was supposed to run and call for any kind of trouble he was in. For any kind of trouble they were in.

It was all he had to do.

But he promised. A vow that would last longer than her. That he couldn't tell the townsfolk how sick she'd gotten. How sick she let herself seem to him. How sick she actually was.

Usopp wasn't one to break his promises. Not to his ailing mother.

So he devised something else. Something to at least get her back on her feet again. Happy like she used to be. Happy like she taught him to be.

He'd run around town yelling about pirates! Pirates! Pirates seen off the north shore!

The whole town was beside itself, shuttering their windows and barring up doors. He had everyone running scared and was finding his own enjoyment in his 'noble' deed. The only one who didn't believe him, was his mother.

He kept trying. Day after day of pirates, pirates, pirates. His father, returning triumphant from his journey and ready to bring his ship doctor to cure her. His father, rushing into the house like a storm, a fish on his back that can make anyone the healthiest they can be. His father, whisking her to Meshi for good food and a joke so funny she laughs the sickness away.

His father, home again.

She didn't believe him.

She was proud she'd married his father. Happy she'd told him to go, those scarce few years ago. But without fail, the only lie she had never believed, was Usopp's father returning home to see them. To see her.

He wasn't here; his journey wasn't done; don't say something stupid. Each time, he was met with a different response, all saying the same thing.

His father wasn't coming.

Usopp's misplaced anger would flare, briefly pointed at a new target, before dying down again. He couldn't even figure out how to send a letter informing his father of the news. Even with heavy coaxing, the townsfolk admitted they didn't know either; his father never told Usopp the name of his ship or his crew and his mother had never written it down anywhere. Up until meeting Luffy, he had no clue.

And by the time he did know, he was nursing lumps on his head while listening to a lecture about not wasting Nami's paper. The overflowing trash bin was practically laughing at his pitiful, crumpled up attempts.

Soon enough he was swept up in dangerous adventures left and right and he let himself forget about it. Or rather, did forget about it. Consciously, unconsciously, it didn't matter. He forgot. And he only remembered late at night when he had trouble sleeping, wondering where his father might be, if he was boasting about his wife and kid back home, not knowing half of his little family had left him.

Usopp loved his mother. But why didn't she just ask for-

He startled at the sudden, loud laughter from above. Then the thud of Luffy jumping down, followed by Zoro's boots tapping down the ladder rungs.

They were talking about something- a fish Luffy caught or a Sea King Zoro had cut down. Usopp couldn't tell the way his heartbeat was in his ears and the way he was trying to keep perfectly, utterly still.

He should've talked to them. Said something like a goodnight, maybe. Even grumbling about how loud they were being would be fine.

But he was gripped with a nameless fear. Something that twined its cold, skeletal fingers around his throat, whispering notions of being caught for an irredeemable crime. Twisting his stomach in knots at even the thought of making a sound.

A woosh of air and Luffy had climbed into the hammock above him. A deep snore and Zoro was out too.

Usopp sighed, letting himself untense as the spectre of death started to retreat. He stared at Luffy's vest- at his back, resting in the netting. Barely an arms length away.

He just had to reach for it.

It was all he had to do.

Usopp bit his lip, pressed a hand to his mouth and turned on his side, ignoring the tears staining his skin.

[whatswrongwithblue]

The Fire in the Sin

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On

Word count: 9,332. Read on AO3. Series Masterlist. <- Previous Chapter

Summary: the battle and the consequences

Series Summary

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On

Alastor was a master of hiding his true feelings and intentions. Since his return, he had often relied on that skillset to manipulate his way through the workings of the hotel, to twist and turn his guidance of Charlie where he needed, and to charm others into trusting that his presence there would be of their benefit. It wasn’t necessarily untrue though it also wasn’t explicitly honest of him to allow them all to believe what they did of him.

However, on the morning of the extermination, there was no need to pretend away any of his feelings. His glee, his absolute eagerness to see those angels descend upon the hotel, allowed him to express himself in an open and true way that he usually had to reserve for his private moments alone with Mina.

His wife was also an open book, though she was more anxious than he was. She gripped onto the ledge in front of her, watching as her friends battled with the few angels that had made their way to the hotel before Alastor’s shield had been raised.

Mina was the very image of beauty that morning. It was rare to see her in anything but her usual attire and he had to admit, he rather liked her in pants. The tight black trousers and long sleeved orange shirt hugged her figure and gave her a grace and agility her preferred dress could never achieve. Her hair was pulled up into a bun with side braids that laced just beneath her ears. After seeing her show off her improved fighting style with her spar against Vaggie the day before, Alastor kept looking over at her with a rekindled appreciation for her hidden strengths. Mina was always such a petite, unassuming person that it was easy to forget, even for himself, how positively deadly she could be.

So far, her worry over their safety appeared to be needless. The small army from cannibal town seemed to be holding their own, the hotel residents were doing quite well for themselves, and Mina’s friends from The Pit were demolishing any angel that came near them. It was easy, effortless work, with sheer numbers and preparations on their side, where the angels were separated from the rest of their army and had vastly underestimated what they were up against.

Alastor still wasn’t worried when his shields fell.

It was of little consequence if he had to face Adam, in fact, a part of him had been looking forward to the thrilling challenge of it.

Mina had turned to him as soon as it happened, reluctant to follow through with what she had agreed to.

“Go,” Alastor told her, gesturing towards the next wave of angels that were nearly on the people down below. “They need you far more than I do.”

“If you die, I’ll never forgive you,” she said, giving him one last hard look, before stepping through a portal and leaving him alone on the roof of the hotel.

For the first time, he was truly grateful for their seven years apart. He was sure if she hadn’t experienced the pain of it, hadn’t had to dig through the remains of her heart and find the strength to face what he had put her through, she wouldn’t have been able to follow through with leaving him to face Adam alone.

And even afterward, when everything had gone terribly wrong, he still didn’t regret his decision to make her leave his side. He had just barely survived the blow from that terrible weapon of Adam’s and he was certain that Mina wouldn’t have been able to do the same. And if she died, every last shred of goodness still left inside of him would die with her.

No, it simply wouldn’t be allowed to come to that. She was far safer and more useful to his cause down below, keeping Charlie safe and fighting exterminators of a less impressive caliber than the one he was now staring down.

____

Mina stepped out of her portal and into chaos.

She had a moment to look back up towards the hotel and catch a glimpse of Adam in his white and golden robes flying lower, clearly headed towards Alastor, before an exterminator was on her. Just in time, she lifted her spear and blocked the attack, throwing the angel off balance and smashing the blunt end of her spear into the other woman’s mask, knocking her to the ground and impaling her through the chest hard enough that Mina had to put her weight into yanking the spear out, its tip having lodged itself into the concrete beneath the angel’s back.

Her head tilted to the side as she considered her fallen enemy. The woman’s mask was shattered, the insulting demonic visage sputtering as the imagery failed, though her true face was still hidden from Mina. After a couple gurgled breaths, the angel went limp. Mina bent down and grabbed her spear, happy to now be duel wielding them, and kicked the dead angel in the head as she stepped away from her. She’d always hated those fucking masks.

Vaggie was glued to Charlie’s side so Mina kept nearer to her comrades from The Pit, though she kept one eye on the couple in case something were to happen to Vaggie and Charlie needed the added protection. She had promised Alastor she would keep her safe and though Charlie was more powerful than anyone else there that day, Mina wasn’t confident in the princess’s ability to understand and wield that power just yet.

She watched as Astra used her chameleon powers to camouflage herself in the darkest recesses of the battle ground before striking out with simple yet devastating strikes of her spear. Fae and Lilah were the very images of grace, their hyper feminine forms making them look more like they were doing a ballet rather than fighting to the death, if it weren’t for the splatters of gold blood on their features. Alina was in her full demonic visage, a terrifying giant bat, her large leather wings allowing her an ariel advantage. The angels were not used to having victims that fought back and they were extra poor at defense when airborne. Any of them that tried to attack the hotel residents from above was met with Alina’s perfect combinations of angelic spear and the wide gaping maw of her hungry mouth. Kaden and Silva were mostly fighting amongst the cannibals, their own fighting style less refined than that of the others but more brutal, and their high-pitched cackles echoed through the courtyard, even over the din of the battle around them.

Mina wasn’t keeping track of how many angels she had taken down. She had joked with Angel the night before that they should make a competition of it, like Legolas and Gimli, but he hadn’t gotten the reference. Her spear sank into the gut of an oncoming exterminator and it didn’t exit out her back so Mina twisted the spear and pulled it sideways and out, leaving a gaping hole in the angel’s torso.

That had to have been at least a dozen.

Something whizzed past her ears and half a second later a large explosion came from a few feet behind her. She turned behind her to see Husk with his hand still midair, having just thrown a card and sending her would be attacker into a box of empty crates stacked at the side of the courtyard.

Mina gave Husk a small smile of appreciation before turning on the angel that was now getting up from where she had landed, shoving a crate off herself with a disgusted grunt.

The angelic steel-edged axe Mina had been eyeing the morning before was strapped to her hip and she dropped one spear to reach for it, eyeing it almost lovingly as she tossed it once in her grip before the handle settled into her palm, perfectly balanced, and she pulled her arm back and threw it. Her aim was true and the axe landed with a satisfying crunch in the middle of the angel’s face.

“FUCKING BULLSEYE! FUCK YEAH BITCH!” Cherri’s voice shouted from several feet away before the blonde set a stream of bombs flying over Mina’s head and into the next oncoming surge of angels.

Mina smiled, taking in a long deep, open-mouthed breath, savoring the sweet smell of golden blood all around her.

This was going well.

A moment later, Mina’s confidence was shattered as she saw a great flash of gold lightning from the corner of her eye and turned to see Vaggie and Charlie thrown to the ground.

“SUCK MY HOLY LIGHT, FUCKERS!”

Adam.

“-but Alastor was supposed to handle him. Oh no, he must be- ”

Charlie’s voice had said out loud what Mina had been thinking. Before she could process anything, she was stepping through a portal and back on the roof of the hotel.

“ALASTOR!” she screamed, running around the rooftop, looking for any signs of him.

She closed her eyes and breathed slowly, and her feline olfactory senses picked up the sharp metallic tang she knew so well. Mina was familiar with the unique smell of Alastor’s blood, had tasted it on her own lips, and delighted in the way his scent strengthened every time she drew it from his body. It was a smell she associated with desire and pleasure, of their most intimate moments together. It was hardly something she was used to associating with danger and dread but that was what the scent was making her feel now.

Mina chased the smell across the rooftop and found a disturbing amount of it splashed onto the floor of the rooftop. She knew from experience that blood spilled from a body always appeared to be far greater in volume than what was true, but from the pattern of it and the deep crimson color, it looked to have been spilled quickly and from an incredibly deep wound.

But there wasn’t a trail of blood leading away and there was no body.

Mina squeezed her eyes shut, holding closed fists to them as she felt the sting of tears and the crushing grip of panic threatening to spill out of her. Her chin quivered and she grimaced but she still forced herself to keep it together for a little while longer.

His shadow could have moved him. Conscious or unconscious, it would have been able to get Alastor to safety and there would have been little Adam could do it to stop it. She knew this and held tightly to the hope that no matter how badly he had been hurt, he would have gotten away.

But it was an angelic weapon that had hurt him. And there was so much blood.

Even if he had gotten to a safe place, he wouldn’t be able to heal from that kind of a wound.

Alastor could still bleed out and die before she ever got to him.

Maybe his shadow would come back after getting Alastor to safety. It would know he needed help and that she would be his best bet of getting it.

But Alastor had told her to stay by Charlie’s side. He had said she needed to keep her away from Adam. Maybe he wouldn’t send his shadow for her after all. She couldn’t imagine Alastor being that selfless of his own accord but if he had been forced to ask that of her because of his deal – she just didn’t know.

She didn’t know what to do.

Now panic’s beastly nature was truly digging its claws into her, making her lungs feel like they were being ripped from her chest and her heart bitten clean in two. She was frightened beyond belief, frozen in place by the fear that Alastor was dying and that she would utterly fail him in every way.

Two angels landed on the roof top just a few feet from her and suddenly the blinding white mask of panic was lifted from her eyes and in its place, the burning red of fury.

Mina screamed as she let her rage and despair burst out of her, her fists consumed in golden fire that she sent in a torrent across the rooftop that completely engulfed the angels and within seconds they were nothing but smoldering blackened bodies lying on the ground.

The flames had caught Adam’s attention and she made eye contact with him the second he turned and looked at her.

“Well la-dee-fucking-dah bitch. Looks like someone’s been making friends with the bitch-ass loser squad you got running the place down here.”

“Where is he?!” she shouted at him and Adam’s smile grew wider.

“Let me guess, Mr. fucking jazz hands? Yeah, I sliced his ass in half. Sucks for you, bitch.”

He flew straight at her, his weapon held high over his head, and she let another scream tear out of her as she sent the biggest wave of fire she had ever seen at him.

The heat felt like it was going to boil her alive, she could feel the power pulling her inside out, like a taught string that started all the way down in her toes and threatened to tear her muscles from her bones and dislocate every joint in her body.

She kept the flames going as long as she could stand, a tornado of golden fire that could have burned an entire crowd of Sinners and leveled buildings.

When Mina could take it no longer, she dropped to her knees, her arms and head falling forward, and she gasped for air, trying to cool down her overheated and feverish body.

Laughter was the first thing she registered and she lifted her gaze back up, blinking in confusion.

Adam was hovering in the sky. His robes had a singular spot of soot on them but he was otherwise completely untouched.

It wasn’t possible.

She had seen what her fire had done to the other angels. Adam may have been the first man but he was still a human soul. The kind of fire she just wielded should have been enough to take out the likes of Lilith. Even Abaddon and Lucifer would have been hurt by it.

The other exterminators may not have come prepared, but Heaven had clearly imbued Adam with powers far stronger than he should have had.

“Awwww, what’s the matter? Not hot enough for ya? I bet I can spice things up!”

He slashed his weapon out in front of him, sending a beam of light her way. Mina got to her feet and just barely dodged it, watching as it hit the edge of the roof and sent a corner of concrete and brick falling to the ground several stories below.

We’re all going to die.

Alastor’s shadow did not seem to be coming back for her, which may mean he was very likely already dead.

There was no way she could fulfill her promise and keep this man away from Charlie.

But she wouldn’t die with his annoying fucking laughter ringing in her ears.

Mina felt her body morph, her hands and feet morphing into gigantic clawed paws, her face elongated into that of a hideous demonic feline predator, and took a running sprint towards the ledge of the roof.

She jumped, her front feet catching the edge, with her back feet landing between them a second later, and she kicked off with all her strength, and reached her long front legs out towards the angel.

A moment later, his laughter finally cut short as her claws and teeth found robes and flesh. Mina dug in with all her inhuman strength, and tasted the mouthwatering sweet flavor of angelic blood. But it was only a little.

In this form she would have been able to bite a Sinner clean in two but she could barely puncture his skin.

”Ow! Owww! Oww you fucking bitch! Let go of me you cunt!”

He was putting in every effort just to keep them from going into a freefall, her massive weight dragging them slowly downwards as his wings struggled to keep him airborne. Luckily for her, in his distraction, his deadly angelic weapon was forgotten as he squirmed and shrieked under her grasp.

She should have brought one of her spears, held between her teeth as she leapt, but she had been consumed with rage and exhausted from her attempt with the fire and not thinking clearly.

Even in this form, Mina was exhausted and losing her grip on Adam. He was tiny compared to her and the only thing holding her up, and she couldn’t dig her claws and teeth in like she had expected to be able to. With every difficult, struggling flap of his wings, she was jostled and slipping lower, leaving pathetic little tears in his robes as she did so.

But at least he wasn’t laughing anymore.

With some unseen strength and momentum, Adam was able to spin midair and remember his weapon, hitting her with the flat side of it and knocking the wind out of her. It didn’t slice her skin or leave any kind of lethal wound, but she still felt her ribs crack under the impossible force of it, and her grip faltered.

As she fell, she heard Charlie’s voice cry out her name. She looked up and saw Sir Pentious’s war machine being blown to bits.

She turned midair, her cat-like sense of direction instinctually kicking in and making her fall feet first. Even in the last couple seconds she had as the ground rushed towards her, she knew she wouldn’t make it through the impact in one piece. When the loan sharks had come for Mimzy, she had made the jump of just a few stories but Adam had them at a height far greater than that of the entire hotel. In all her years in Hell, she had yet to be injured bad enough to die and respawn but she thought she might get the opportunity now.

In the very last second, she saw a movement of black streaking across the ground below. It was Alastor’s shadow. It had come back for her and it was racing towards her now, putting in every bit of speed and power into reaching its form off the ground in order to stop her fall.

It reached her too late.

____

Charlie watched helpless as Mina’s leopard form hit the ground with a thunderous boom of cracking asphalt and shattering bones. She ran to her side as unconscious and near death, her body formed back into that of a petite black-haired woman, her limbs twisted unnaturally and blood pooling out from beneath her head.

She cried out Mina’s name, afraid to touch her, unaware of Vaggie covering for her and holding off more exterminators as she knelt beside her friend.

Charlie then watched as two black hands reached up from the ground and ever so tenderly wrapped themselves around Mina. A pair of glowing green eyes and an equally illuminated smile peered at the princess from behind Mina’s shoulders, and Charlie pulled away, afraid at first but then quickly understanding what was happening. She nodded to Alastor’s shadow, although it clearly wasn’t asking for her permission, and then they were both gone.

____

Alastor had stayed in his shadow realm for as long as he could allow before his shadow had dumped him in front of the ruins of his radio tower and left. He could only assume – hope – that it went to go find Mina.

Losing, especially as devastatingly as he had, had not been in the cards for him. It had been a grave miscalculation, and one he could not afford to make again. He had told Mina he had back up plans to his back up plans and that was true. A last minute escape plan for himself was something he always had in place, he just never expected to have come so close to death to have to use it.

Once inside the safety of the tower, he bent over double, coming to terms with the wound across his torso and the inevitability of what his failure meant. He was bleeding out, shivering from the chill the blood loss was causing, and wrinkling his nose at the stench of death that was surrounding him. And without him present at the battle, Charlie would go straight for Adam – and that meant Lucifer would be free to intervene.

Alastor had barely escaped with his life, but he imagined, with quite a bit of reluctance, that Lucifer would have no problems disposing of Adam. It would make him look weak and vulnerable in comparison and that would just be the start of his problems with Lucifer’s presence.

Uuggghhh

He grimaced as he pulled his hands away from the shredded remains of his jacket, taking in the bloody mess on his palms.

One problem at a time.

If only his shadow would hurry up. He could really use Mina’s help stitching up this mess.

As if on cue, he felt his shadow’s return and turned around to see the crumbled mess that was Mina’s body on the floor as his shadow remained attached to her rather than coming back to join its master.

Despite his dire wound and the dizziness brought on by a lack of blood, Alastor moved quickly, albeit clumsily, over to where Mina lay and fell to his knees in front of her.

She was a mess. Limbs twisted in unnatural angles and her hair matted with blood from a terrible wound at the side of her head. He could hear her breathing; raspy and gurgling, like each intake of air was a struggle against lungs full of blood.

His shadow stretched out beneath her and connected him to her, allowing Alastor to take full stock of her injuries.

Ankles and wrists were completely shattered. Several fractures along each long bone in her limbs. Dislocated hips and shoulders. Broken ribs with punctures lungs. But the worst was her head trauma. One temple was crushed in, causing swelling on her brain. If she were still alive . . . well, she’d be dead already. But since she was already graced by death, she would be fine. She wouldn’t even have to respawn; her body was already healing. It would take time, and she would be unconscious for the next several hours, but she would live.

Alastor felt a rage like nothing he had ever known burn up inside him. Not even when Kassandra had tortured her body and taken over her mind had he felt so insulted. Not even when he had been made to leave her for years did he feel this disgustingly helpless. For someone to encroach upon what was his in such a defiling manner went far beyond what he could tolerate.

And the very worst part about it all was that there wasn’t a God damn fucking thing he could do about it but be patient and watch over her while she healed.

Alastor brushed a lock of black hair that had come loose from her braids away from her face and let his fingers trace down her pale cheek before his hand fell away from her. As he stared down at the one precious thing he allowed himself to keep close to his heart since his mother’s death, he felt a mad sense of determination take over him.

I’m hungry for freedom like never before.

It was so clear to him now that he had made his deal in haste; that there were consequences he couldn’t have ever imagined when he had made it and now Mina was bearing the brunt of his poor decisions.

She wasn’t supposed to have happened.

Love.

It had been the last thing he had thought capable of happening to him and yet here it was, crushing him, the weight of it unbearable, and also the greatest, most wonderful part of his long and suffering existence.

He watched his shadow slink away from him and to his utter astonishment, slip inside of Mina. All at once her body seemed a little more whole, her limbs pulled back just a few more inches towards normalcy. It wasn’t just joined with her – a feat he thought it incapable of doing with anyone but himself – but it was like it was helping hold her together. Not only was the display of its power a shock to him but the fact that it was willing to do that for Mina, without Alastor commanding it to, was the biggest surprise of the day.

Even it understood the importance of her.

Well, that was . . . interesting, to say the least. Alastor wondered what the person who held his chain would have to say about that. Mina was such an integral part of his soul that even his shadow could – no, wanted ­- to be joined with her. Maybe it was part of the deal they made with each other when they were married. Or maybe it really was just the power of love. Who was to say?

When his chest wasn’t nearly ripped in half, he would allow himself a good petty laugh about that.

Take care of her.

He sent the thought towards his dark companion and stepped away to stitch himself up while he waited for her to recover. It wouldn’t do to have Mina heal and wake up to find herself a widow.

____

The first thing she was aware of was singing.

In the dark of her unconscious state, with no body to feel other than a distant dull pain, there was little else but the sound of Alastor’s voice soothing her few remaining senses and keeping her calm.

So hold your breath

And bite your tongue

My love

I will hold you til’ the morning comes

The night is young

And the darkness long

But my love

I will hold you til’ the morning comes

It was her lullaby but made anew by his unique voice and radio static affect. She tried to move towards the sweet sound of it but she remained motionless in the black. His voice was everywhere but drifting away and try as she might to strain her ears, she couldn’t triangulate which direction the singing was coming from.

Alastor.

She sent his name out into the abyss, a desperate cry for him to stay, but his voice abruptly stopped. Silence rang in her ears and the darkness swallowed her up.

_____

Pentragram City was laid out in front of her, it’s skyscrapers and city streets lit up even in the earliest hours of the morning.

The color of the red tinted city scape was exaggerated by the large glass windows she was looking through. It was a different city, and from a different vantage point, than what she was used to seeing and yet still very familiar.

This was Alastor’s radio tower. His real one.

Their home.

“What year is it?”

She heard Alastor shift behind her and turned to find him on his couch, stretched out in nothing but his bathrobe and a pair of black boxers with little red deer skulls and antlers on them. He had a book in his hands and he set it open on his chest as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What a peculiar question, my love. And what are you doing up this early?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“You seem to be sleeping just fine.”

“I guess I am, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“Come here, ma cher.”

She stepped away from the window and walked over to him, her bare feet almost silent across the smooth floor. She was wearing an old pair of sleepwear she hadn’t seen in years, a button up silk shirt and matching emerald shorts. There was no wedding band on her finger and judging by the state of the city, this was either the late 1970’s or the very early 80’s.

Mina sprawled across Alastor, letting her body settle between his legs and her head on his chest as he wrapped her in his embrace and began stroking her hair.

“I miss this,” she said.

“You still have this.”

“No, it’s not the same. I miss our life. Our home.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she felt his chest rise and fall with a gentle sigh that betrayed his own sadness. “I suppose you’re tired of hearing me say things will work out eventually.”

She said nothing for a moment, just listened to the sound of his heart beating beneath her ears. She was tired of hearing it but she also needed his reassurance more than ever.

“I need to wake up,” she said, and tried to rise.

His arms tightened around her.

“Eventually yes. After all, company in coming. But right now you need to rest.”

“What’s going to happen next?”

“All in due time, my dear. All in due time.”

____

The darkness wasn’t as deep this time. She could make out a reddish haze and see the swirling shadows move around her. But the pain was much closer now, an ache she tried in vain to pull away from but it only made the pain bloom brighter, blinding her against all else, so she stopped trying to move.

Alastor.

She tried to scream his name and felt nothing but a breath of air escape her lips.

Hush now.

Alastor?

A deep, soft chuckle.

Yes and no.

Who are you?

I am more than Alastor. I am less than Alastor. I am him and he is me but we are not one and the same.

You’re his shadow?

Ah yes, that is what you call me. That is accurate enough for now.

I didn’t know you could talk.

I cannot. I am sending you images, feelings, . . . impressions. Your mind is turning them to words.

How?

I believe it is a consequence of being immensely . . . brain damaged. You’re hallucinating. But my presence is very real.

You’re inside of me? Why? How?

Because you need me. And he needs you. So this is where I must be.

I saw you watching us last night. While we were making love. Why were you doing that?

Another laugh.

That is what you wish to speak of while I’m keeping your brain matter from seeping out your skull like a boiling over pot of rice pudding?

It must be the brain damage.

A moment of silence and Mina thought it had left her.

I was curious.

Do you love me?

It was a childish thought and still it escaped her mind, her thoughts unable to be hidden in this in-between state.

She felt a shift in the shadows and got the impression that it was considering her question.

I alone can not feel love. Alastor loves you. I . . . am drawn to you.

Is Alastor going to die?

He is already dead.

You know what I mean!

She tried to move again, felt her face twitch, her eyebrows pinching together for a moment. She was waking up, she was almost there. The pain was unbearable but if she could just get her eyes to open-

A frustrated sigh and a force tightening around her, keeping her still and dulling her pain. It was heavy and immovable but comforting, like an infant being swaddled.

He will be there when you wake. I will be here while you sleep.

____

The sound of ocean waves came first and then the emotions; absolute bliss, happiness and peace beyond what she had ever experienced.

Mina blinked and she was lying naked on a beach, the sky a blend of deep orange at the horizon and midnight blue overhead, with a few star constellations already in view.

This was the pocket dimension Alastor had given her as a wedding gift.

Her smile split her face and she rolled onto her back, enjoying the warmth of the sand beneath her naked body, and began laughing.

She was high as a fucking kite.

Alastor shifted next to her, pressing his face into the side of hers, and kissing her cheek as he joined her in her laughter. He was as naked as she was, his body even softer and warmer than the sand.

“I want to be inside of you,” he whispered in her ears once he stopped laughing.

She remembered this night well.

1994. They had each taken a large dose of molly and laid under the stars all night. It was one of her happiest, most intimate memories of Alastor and they hadn’t even had sex that night. Just laid naked and pressed to each other, talking about how wonderful their lives were and basking in each other’s love.

She giggled some more, running her hand down the expanse of his scarred chest.

“You’re not even hard right now, love,” she teased.

“Not like that,” he said with a chuckle and a role of his eyes.

She knew what would come next, remembered this moment in perfect clarity, and let herself be completely immersed in reliving this wonderful night.

“I want to be as close to you as possible,” he said. “I never want to feel anything but you. I want you to hold me, and touch me, and surround me, and never let me go. Everything else makes me feel so poorly but not you so if I’m inside of you all the time, I’ll always feel good.”

His ineloquent words made perfect sense to her drugged-out mind. As silly as he sounded, and stupid as the dopey smile on his face was, it seemed like the sweetest thing in the world to be told.

“Then hold tight and never let me go,” she had said, rolling back over on her side to face him, curling her smaller body into his.

“I already tried that.”

His voice had lost all its joy. That wasn’t right, she didn’t remember this part.

“Alastor?” she questioned, sitting up so she could look down on him.

He sat up with her and she watched in horror as his chest began to split open, a gaping bleeding wound that looked like it would cleave him in two.

“But fret not, my love,” he said and as the words left him, stitches began to loop through his lips, pulling on his skin and making them bleed as he continued to try and speak to her. “This is not where this ends.”

____

You have a rather dark imagination.

I’ve heard that before.

I told you Alastor will be fine and yet you continue to worry.

Oh sorry, I’ll just turn off my feelings then.

You are being sarcastic.

No shit Sherlock.

Alastor often says the same thing about his feelings but I don’t think it’s with sarcasm.

That sounds like him.

You sound bitter. But it’s how he survived the last seven years.

Good for him.

There is someone else in here with us. Someone who brought you even more pain than he did.

I don’t want to talk about it.

But you’re thinking about her.

Am not.

Have it your way. I’d prefer you to stay asleep anyway.

Kinky.

There was no response except for a deeply annoyed sigh.

____

“Margarette.”

Mina turned from the waves crashing against the rocky cliffside view that had been just a short walk away from her childhood home and was surprised to find her sister standing behind her.

“You should have stayed here,” said the younger woman and Mina took a moment to study her.

They were both spitting images of their mother; hair the color of a wheatfield at sunset, sapphire blue eyes, with small rounded faces and button noses. The only feature they had inherited from their redheaded father was the smattering of freckles across their noses, cheek bones, and shoulders.

“It’s been a long time since I dreamed of you,” Mina said.  

“You ruined your life.”

“I saved my life.”

“You killed everything you ever touched.”

“Because everything that touched me wanted me dead.”

“And now you’re in Hell.”

“And now I can finally live.”

Her sister crossed her arms, a defiant and proud look to her features that Mina wanted to slap away. She never used to look at her that way. Before, her sister had always seen the best in Mina. But then they’d grown up, as only the luckiest children get to do, and her sister had found her own happiness and had no more room in her heart for Mina’s suffering.

“Why do you hate Heaven so much?” her sister asked.

“Because I love Hell.”

“Then you really are beyond saving.”

Mina stormed towards her sister, her fist clenched at her side.

“Hell gave me a life worth living. A real family that understands me and cares for me. Hell gave me love, a man who knows me for what I really am and neither fears me nor feels the need to control me. I got everything I ever wanted and never found in life when I went to Hell and all Heaven sees when they look at us down there is a threat when all we want is to be left alone!”

“Do you have any idea what will happen now? What it is you’ve started?”

Lightning flashed above them, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the ground beneath them.

They both looked up at the sky, full of angry rolling clouds that seemed to be much lower than before. They swirled and twisted, almost as if they were reaching down for them.

“Company is coming,” her sister said, looking back at her.

“I know,” Mina said, her eyes still stuck on the storm.

“They’ll choose Heaven, you do know that right? When the time comes, they’ll choose to go home.”

Mina frowned, confused at what her sister meant, but when she looked away from the clouds and back at her, she was gone.  

____

Was it worth it?

Yes.

How can you say that? Even now. We almost died.

We are already dead.

You left me.

We are here now.

What made it worth it? What was worth bargaining for that made his deal worth it?

Alastor.

I don’t understand.

Alastor was worth it.

You’re making less sense than him!

Would you have Alastor as anything more or less than what he is?

What does that have to do with his deal?

No response.

No, she finally relented.

Then you already know it was worth it.

What is going to happen now?

What has to be done.

____

Mina opened her eyes.

She blinked slowly, taking in the blurry images around her, managing to turn her head side to side despite the awful stiffness of her neck and shoulders.

Everything was a wreck. Windows shattered, furniture tossed around, large cracks ran up the wall, and everything seemed to be at the wrong angle. It made her head spin with vertigo as she tried to get her bearings.

Mina groaned as she sat up, feeling her body weak and trembling with the effort. Her bones, having freshly pulled themselves together, creaked and popped with the effort, but stayed in their proper places. Besides her splitting headache and nausea, the worst part was the stiffness. She felt like she was underwater, her limbs barely responding to the commands of her damaged nervous system, and her muscles suffering from whiplash severe enough to make her feel like she had literally been run over by a bus.

Or fallen from the sky.

“You gave me quite the fright,” Alastor’s voice called to her from across the room. She turned in that direction and saw him with his back turned to her, his jacket discarded to the side, as he seemed to be focused on something in front of him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, just enough for her to see the glow of his eyes and the wide strain of his smile. His silhouette against the low red light coming through the window betrayed him, showing how tightly his long ears were pinned back. “How are you feeling?”

She tried to laugh and coughed instead, grimacing as the motion pulled on her still tender rib cage. “Like I could take on the world.”

His shadow pulled out from beneath her and danced across the wall as it let its master reclaim it. It connected itself at Alastor’s feet, though it stayed stretched out and visible along the floor.

Alastor turned to look at it and raised an eyebrow as if considering something it had said.

“Someone doesn’t find your sarcastic nature very amusing,” he said after a moment.

Mina slowly got to her feet, wobbling a bit and leaned on the wall for a few seconds before she righted herself.

“Funny. It seemed to me like it was having a grand ol’ time sneaking around my thoughts.”

It was then she noticed his broken microphone laying in two pieces on the floor next to him. Her head spun as she tried to make her way over to him, her concussed state struggling terribly to make sense of the tilted nature of the room they were in.

“Al’,” she choked out, stumbling towards him as she tried to process what she was seeing. “What happened. Wh-what- . . . you’re microphone . . . what does this mean?”

“I’m honestly not sure, my dear,” he said, still turned away from her. “I’ll have to deal with that later. Right now, I have a bigger, more imminent problem.”

She noticed then the severity of his tone of voice, the barely hidden pain as he spoke through gritted teeth, and the sharp intake of breath he took every few moments.

As she came around to the side of his chair, stepping carefully around his broken staff, she gasped as she took in the sight of him.

He had managed to stitch up most of it, but there was a gash from hip to opposite shoulder that looked like it went quite deep across the middle. The stitches were the same magical illuminated green as the ones she had seen on his mouth, which normally would have intrigued her more, if she wasn’t so concerned about the severity of the wound she was looking at.

Alastor allowed her to pull back his unbuttoned shirt, exposing the part of the gash high up on his shoulder that still wasn’t stitched up. Though a bit of blood was still seeping through the rest of the stitches, this part was flowing freely, soaking his shirt and leaving a wide path of red down his ribs and all the way to top of his trousers.

She met his eyes and saw the embarrassed, frantic look in them.

“I need your help,” he whispered, looking to the side in shame. “I can’t . . . I can’t reach the last part.”

“Okay,” she said softly and then gestured at his lap. “May I sit?”

His smile spread although there was still no humor in it.

“My darling, when have I ever denied you that privilege?”

Mina didn’t respond, thinking of the many times he had done just that, and took her seat, taking the needle from his hand. It shook in her grasp, either from the shock of seeing him in such a state or from her still healing concussion, she couldn’t know, but she braced the side of her hand against Alastor to steady it before threading the needling through one side of the wound to the other, pulling the green string through as she did.

Alastor hissed in pain as she did so, instinctually flinching as the string slid through his flesh.

“Sorry, love,” she said. “Pain inflicted by someone else always hurts worse than when it’s self-inflicted, so these last few stitches are going to be even more unpleasant than what you’ve already experienced.”

“Spoken like a true professional torturer.”

She side-eyed him.

“Do ya want my help?” she said, her accent unusually thick as she struggled to keep her stress at a manageable level.

His ears pinned back tighter and once again, he looked away.

“Please,” he relented.

An idea came to her then and as she cut the string and tied the stitch, she began to sing.

If you fall I’ll stand beneath you

I’ll wrap your wounds and kiss you tender

Rip my heart out still warm and beating

To place between your ribs if yours falters

Your sweet embrace

Has made a monster of me

I can not live, I can not speak

In a world where you cease to be

Can you feel me where you are

Are you torn and bleeding too

Do the skies cry wherever you’ve gone

With rain that burns, more black than blue

Well my love, what can I do

I can not save what is missing from here

I cannot die for what’s already gone

So I’ll hunt for you for many more years

My love for you

Has made a beast of me

I cannot live, I cannot breathe

In a world where you cease to be

Your love for me

Has left this creature in me

It cannot live, it will not leave

In this world where you’ve ceased to be

She tied the last stitch and used a rag to clean away most of the blood from his skin, though some of it was so dried she decided to leave it for now, rather than risk pulling on the stitches in an effort to rub away the little mess left behind.

Once she was done, Mina leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the now closed wound, feeling the stiches poke at her lips as she did so.

Alastor blinked, coming out of the lull she had sung him into, and tilted his head at her.

“What was that for?” he asked and she smiled at him.

“Kissing it to make it better,” she teased.

“That can’t be sanitary.”

Mina reached a hand behind his head and pulled his forehead down as she leaned forward and kissed him between the eyes. His body was stiff against her, the large stitched up wound making any kind of movement of his torso difficult, but he leaned into her embrace as much as he could.

She felt her chin begin to quiver as she held him. Now that she no longer had a task to focus on, the dam she had built up around her emotions was threatening to break.

Mina had never seen Alastor so defeated; so broken and near death. It frightened her, and what was worse was that she could see that paralyzing fear reflected back at her whenever she looked at him.

He was scared. She didn’t even know Alastor could be scared.

No one had ever managed to hurt him like this, at least not that she knew of. But here he was in her arms, barely having escaped being killed by a hair. His body nearly as cut in half as his microphone was.

The first sob broke free and Alastor brought a hand to her back, pulling her head towards his uninjured shoulder.

“Mina.” His tone was low as he said her name, free of the static and the accent he used to cover up his natural voice. “Mo chagren, ma cher.” I’m sorry, my dear. “You were never supposed to get hurt.”

She shook her head slightly, sniffing back her tears, and pressed her face into the fabric of his shirt.

“What about you? That weapon of Adam’s, what did it do to you?”

“Nothing I won’t recover from, I promise.” His voice was back to his normal radio persona and she felt his shields sliding into place, hiding away his vulnerable state, even from her.

She sat back and frowned at him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said, repeating his own words from the night before.

Mina didn’t like the look in his eyes. There was still so much fear there, and desperation, and a deep seeded rage that she knew she could only see the surface of. She had never seen him in such a state; not when he had his panic attack over her leaving him, not when Kassandra had nearly ruined her, and not even when he and Vox’s friendship fell apart.

“Oh, but I can assure you,” he said, his red eyes flashing brighter at her. “My every move from here on out will be figuring out a backdoor to my deal. It’ll set us both free of my mistakes. And after that, I will be the one pulling all the strings. You’ll see.”

His shadow stretched up along the wall, its face eager and claws stretched out long in anticipation. Mina looked at it and then back at Alastor and was reminded of the unease she had felt around him when they had first met. It wasn’t quite fear, but there was a level of apprehension growing in her chest as she pondered for the first time since his return, what his intentions going forward really were.

“Alastor, I just want you safe. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t care about the rest.”

He frowned at her, almost looking disgusted and moved to stand so she removed herself from his lap and let him walk away from her.

“You still don’t understand, but that’s okay, you will. You’ll see.” He was pacing now, agitated and still clearly in pain. His hand kept coming up to rub at the stitches and Mina realized she still needed to put bandages on it, but that thought was quickly pushed aside as she became more and more concerned about Alastor’s mental state.

“I want to. I’m trying to, love. Please don’t push me away right now.”

He turned and looked at her, still scowling but his smile stretched even wider when his eyes landed on hers.

Mina felt a coolness wrap around her shoulders and turned her head to see his shadow’s face next to hers, its long fingers caressing her skin as it smiled at her.

“Push you away?” he questioned and then laughed a dry, sardonic laugh that chilled her. “My darling wife, you and I are closer than we’ve ever been. And that’s good. We can use that to our benefit.”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, studying her expression and clearly not liking what he saw there.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asked, her voice small.

“Like you’re afraid of me! Don’t . . . do not do that. Not now. Please, Mina- ”

His voice cracked and suddenly he was back in front of her, holding her again and she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. She wasn’t scared of him, was she? How could she be scared of him when her instincts still told her to embrace him, to run her fingers through his hair like she was doing, to let him pull her in for a passionate, needful kiss like he was. She couldn’t fear what she still so desperately loved. Could she?

“I need you,” he said as he finally pulled away, allowing her a chance to catch her breath after such an intense kiss. “I love you.” His fingers tenderly traced the side of her head beneath her ears, where there was still a painful knot of swelling. His eyes followed the path of his fingers, shining brightly with a storm of emotions she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I love you, too. Of course I do. I love you more than anything. Come on, let’s finish getting you bandaged up, okay? We can talk about this later.” She was rubbing his arms, trying to soothe him, but he still looked like he was on the verge of panic.

“The hotel . . .” he tried to speak but instead all that came out with the tuning sound of a radio, the sound Mina had grown accustomed to hearing from him rather than answers or explanations. Whatever he was trying to tell her just now, he wasn’t allowed to. He sighed hard enough to raise his shoulders and then flinched from the pain the movement caused him. “Whatever I do next, it’ll be worth it. I swear. Charlie- ”

He was silenced by static again and she felt him tense beneath her hands.

“Ssshhh,” she said, her heart beating hard in her chest even as she continued to try and sooth him.

“Whatever comes next, whatever you find out, whatever I have to do- ”

“Alastor, please stop- ”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not. Sweetheart, I love you. Please sit down.”

“I will never hurt you. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

Mina paused, her mind sticking on the way he had emphasized his word choice.

He would never hurt her.

An idea came to her then and she wondered if she suddenly understood the source of his anxiety.

There were other people wrapped up in this that she cared about. Charlie, Angel Dust, Vaggie, Sir Pentious, and even Cheri Bomb. She actually liked them, respected them, and cared about them. They had become a part of her found family, as much as her friends from The Pit were. And she had suspected that Alastor was starting to feel the same. She knew he cared most for Niffty and far more for Husk than he would ever let on, but she had hoped he felt the same about the others. But what if he didn’t?

What if he thought they were worth disposing of, making collateral damage of, if it meant getting what he wanted?

What if, as much as she loved Alastor, The Radio Demon became the enemy of the people she cared about?

Could she stand by and let it happen?

What if it wasn’t fear for herself that she was feeling, but fear for others?

Alastor was right. He could tell she was afraid, even before she did.

She swallowed, telling herself she was jumping to conclusions, and made herself come back to the present moment.

Mina smiled weakly up at him and took his hand.

“I know you would never hurt me. Please, just calm down. Let me bandage you up, okay?”

He didn’t look completely convinced but he did finally do as she asked and sat back down in his chair and let her fret over his physical state for both their sakes.

As much as she tried to focus on what she was doing, Mina’s mind kept running away from her.

She knew this man. He was a killer, a powerful demon with a temper, yes, but she had also never seen him truly harm anyone that either of them cared about. Only people that they were convinced deserved it and she had reveled in being in proximity to that kind of power for so long she had forgotten what it was like to be on the wrong side of it.

Not to mention that for 70 years she had been kept blind to the fact that he had sold his soul.

And she had seen him use people as a means to his own ends before.

This new reality she was facing with Alastor was different from anything she could have prepared herself for. He was still her husband, still the same man that could make the rest of the world melt away with his embrace. And she believed him when he said he would never do anything to hurt her. Every part of him cherished her. Only her. And that might finally become a problem.

Because The Radio Demon?

The most powerful Overlord in Hell, now chained and gagged, having danced with death and barely made it out alive?

Mina couldn’t imagine a more unpredictable and dangerous beast.

Author’s Note: And that’s a wrap! Thank you to everyone who has followed along with this series. I know OC’s aren’t very popular fanfic reads but every single person who supported this story, both on AO3 and Tumblr, meant the world to me. Thank you for every kudo, like, reblog, and comment you all left me. I know season 2 feels like forever from now but I promise I will be back with the next installment after it comes out. I already have tons of ideas and a feeling for where I want to take Mina and Alastor’s story next, and I’m not afraid to break canon to do it, but I also want to see where Season 2 takes us before I solidify any plans. In the meantime, please enjoy a couple of bonus chapters I have coming out soon and check out my other Alastor x Reader stories. They were all pretty much inspired by ideas for this fic that I couldn’t quite fit into the narrative, but if you enjoy Mina x Alastor, you will like those stories as well.

@saccharine-nectarine @whoknowswhoiamtoday @redvexillum @visara-valentina @reath-solia

[kc5rings]

Last reblog kinda sums up my thoughts on Hoshi too. Like don’t get me wrong I enjoy every depiction I see of her as jacked as hell or complete brick wall

But my personal take is she’s kinda lanky with very corded, wiry muscle. The kind of physique that makes some idiot think “she looks tough but I bet I can take her” when she’s sitting at a bar, only to immediately regret that decision when she stands up and just looms over them

It’s a build that can be either amiable and approachable or overtly threatening depending on how she decides to carry herself, something she uses to great affect as an inspector who easily moves among Lungmen’s underbelly

[andromeda3116]

people actually went on about how game of thrones made it socially acceptable to be a fantasy nerd, as though the lord of the rings movies hadn't been released less than a decade earlier and left far greater cultural ripples and i am just

got may have made the adults feel better about liking fantasy, but lotr got into the kids' heads when they (we) were just young and impressionable enough to be absolutely transported and emotionally rewritten by don't you leave him, samwise gamgee and my brother, my captain, my king and and rohan will answer

lotr was rewriting entire generations' brain chemistry long before asoiaf and so obviously it's not fair to compare any post-lotr fantasy novel to it, and each book series was trying to do different things within their own spheres and so that also is not a fair comparison, but in terms of the cultural impact of the adaptations that came out within a decade of each other, saying that it was game of thrones that made fantasy mainstream is baffling

game of thrones could only run because the lord of the rings movies laid the path, and i will die on this hill

[kismetconstellations]

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart) x.

[sonknuxadow]

I'm not too big a Sonknux shipper (I don't really ship anyone with Sonic full stop) but for the sheer amount of Sonadow and rabid Sonadow shippers that popped up, I'm half tempted to create a 2:30 hour long Sonknux cinematic animation out of spite. It would be a quirky romcom with musical scenes which starts with Knuckles first meeting Sonic and ending with them kissing in front of the Master Emerald at their wedding.

i dont really have a problem with sonadow necessarily or people making jokes about them being gay in the new episode, i also went "🏳️‍🌈?" a few times while watching it. im mostly just annoyed that its everywhere at all times and so many people seem to have sonadow as their number one priority always and dont care about anything else.. like if you search sonic prime on here its just sonadow sonadow sonadow with not nearly as many posts about what actually happens in the episode or theorizing about what might happen next or even discussing sonic and shadows interactions beyond just going "omg sonadow!"... like is that really all you guys took from it? you dont care about anything else? just shipping? ok...

[corntort]

i have minutes b4 i gotta get up and get ready for work but in my brain dedusmuln is like. sometimes Very easy to get upset. they remain cheerful for the most part, more than the rest of the crew, but theyre SO PASSIONATE about absolutely everything. they pour all their sentimentality into everything they do and thus if something goes awry they may be the first to be Very affected.

whether they react by storming off for a second to cool down or they just kinda of go Blank and shut down, not speaking much, depends on context. they can distance themselves when needed and can rationalize Why they feel a certain way very well but with how intense it can be they can Blow Up/React Very Poorly and then regret it later. they will always apologize for that though 🙏🙏

[sugarflow]

not super related to art but i compiled a lot of funny clips and put them in a video check it out

[taiyami]

I love being in airports when I'm going to the midwest because I can just tell who is going home and who is going to visit based on vibe alone.

[lisbonsteresa]

going unbelievably insane over this

[sitronsangbody]

Please, please be considerate of your fat friends' needs and limitations. Fat bodies are heavy to carry around. I move about the world slower than my thin peers, and I've often had to choose between pushing myself to keep a pace that takes absolutely all my energy, or being left behind, when walking in a group. I don't always feel safe to ask that everyone walk slower, because there's a prevalent idea in society that fat people need to exert themselves as much as possible at all times in the service of weight loss, and that we never "really" need rest, therefore it's a good thing whenever we're exhausted. Fat people and thin people alike are taught that fatness is a flaw, one that fat people ourselves are to blame for, so we're not entitled to any accommodation or consideration. A friend of mine who is fat recently told me about a dinner party she went to where the chairs were far too small for her and she was sitting very uncomfortably. After the meal she politely suggested moving the party to the couch, but the others didn't want to. She spent another couple of hours in unnecessary pain, and didn't dare tell them about it. I love my thin friends, but some of them just don't realize that I weigh probably twice as much as them, and yet I balance it all on the same size feet and carry it on about the same size bones. I'm like if they had a whole other them to carry around at all times. Why would that not have an impact on how I function? Please - take us into consideration when we're part of activities. Ask us which activities work and which don't. Adjust the pace so no one has to be dry heaving and sweating barrels on what's supposed to be a casual walk. Make sure venues have seating that fits us. Make it safe for us to speak up if we need something. When we do, don't treat us like we're the problem. Finally: yes, we have heard of losing weight. Even those of us who might (and many never will, whether you like it or not), won't do it on a moment's notice. If your response to "fat people deserve accommodations" is "what if they weren't fat though", you're playing a fantasy game. It's pointless. We are fat and we are here and we do partake in society. Work with that.

[atrwriting]

shouldn’t have — lumberjack!logan x fem!reader

listen usually i would hate this plotline but like ?? are yall seeing what im seeing ?? feminism exists and is alive and well until we see this man and suddenly we’re all damsels in distress

as always, warnings: reader was in an abusive relationship, logan the savior (i have issues ok), dom logan, bratty reader, choking, slapping, rough p in v sex, swearing, breeding kink tee hee

mdni!!!1!!1!1!1!11!

————

you had been with your boyfriend — well, now ex-boyfriend — for about three months before you had noticed something was wrong. just a few things, you thought. nothing bad. nothing to worry that much about. it felt like he was doing so many things too much; sleeping, drinking, smoking, video games… yelling…

you thought by getting him a job with some men you knew would be fine — that it would solve every problem. why would it not have? he just needs a job, you thought. just something to get him up in the morning… something to give him purpose…

you were wrong — oh, you were so wrong.

at first, everything was fine — up every day, home every night, and only so many hours at the end of the day could be dedicated to all of those bad little habits you hated so, so much. he was drinking, smoking, playing video games so much less — you almost forgot why you were so annoyed and insistent on this new job in the first place.

...until he stopped coming home before midnight.

...until the yelling got worse.

until he got worse.

you almost left him — almost. until, one night — he asked if you could pick him up from the bar after work so he wouldn’t have to wait before he could drive home. you could've squealed you were so relieved, so happy. it seemed like a step in the right direction, and you were hopeful. you thought the kinks were working themselves out, making it so you could finally work out your issues with him. like the good girlfriend you were, you drove to the bar promptly for half past ten and waited in the parking lot for him.

after a few minutes, you sent a text.

a set of ten minutes had passed as you sat there, waiting.

...then another.

...and then another.

you called him, but there was no answer.

no fucking answer.

you ground your teeth when the call was sent to voicemail. voicemail? fucking voicemail? you stared down at the screen like it mocked you — showing you the reflection of your face in the glass like you were some joke, and embarrassment flooded through you.

all you could think about was self-respect — how if you didn't have any respect for yourself, how could your boyfriend respect you? how could anyone respect you?

it brought tears to your eyes, but you blinked them away.

and there went the last straw…

you got out of the car and slammed the door. you were buzzing with anger, shivering like you were cold. anger filled you, but adrenaline was what carried you on its back through the doors of the bar and past its threshold. it was the only friend you had in that moment, and you grasped at its hand — letting it lead you to your doom.

what you didn't expect what form your doom would take.

…your doom came in the form of a hot blonde with legs and cleavage for days.

she laid horizontal across the bar — shot glass in her belly button, line of salt up her abdomen. you watched a man, dirty from the work day, eye the blonde with hunger in his eyes. he wrapped his dry lips around the rim of the shot glass, and threw his head back. almost immediately, he licked the salt trail with a flat, heavy tongue. the blonde above him giggled at the texture of his tongue on her tanned skin — and once he was done, she grasped both sides of his face and pulled him towards her.

that’s when you saw the guy’s face — smiling and drunk — your boyfriend’s face. men around them hollered as he pushed her against the bar top, kissing her hard. all you could do was stare — adrenaline left you high and dry when you needed it most. you were just cold now — cold, lonely, and embarrassed. so embarrassed. so fucking embarrassed.

“you’re his ol’ lady… aren’t you?”

your head cocked to a stool near you, occupied by one of his coworkers. he had a cigar in his mouth as he cocked an eyebrow at you, barely looking at you. his hand was around two fingers of whisky — and it had never looked so tempting.

“was,” you whispered, politely correcting him and locking eyes with him.

“good,” was all he said before he threw back the rest of his whisky and stood from his chair.

you were still in shock, frozen in place. all you could do was watch as the man pushed through the crowd, and stood in front of your boyfriend. you stared at the man's shoulders — covered by thin flannel that would never stand a chance against the muscles underneath. you gulped as he stood toe to toe with your ex-boyfriend, but the man didn't look half as scared as your ex did.

“you’re fired," was all the man said.

everyone around the man, including the blonde and your boyfriend, went silent. jaws were on the floor — no one knew what to do. what could they do? they weren't expecting this — not when the fun had been going on for so long. the man couldn’t have cared less — he waited for a split moment, awaiting any sort of rebuttal from your ex-boyfriend… and that was when your ex noticed you, staring at him. instead of running to you, begging for forgiveness… he started begging the man that had fired him for his job back.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes. of course.

“not happening, bub,” he spat. “now — i’m going to go buy your ex-girlfriend a drink with your last paycheck. ask your buddies for a loan on the tab with the blonde."

and with that, the man turned on his heel back towards you. when he turned, he didn’t bow his head or look at the floor — he looked straight at you. and for the first time that night, you saw what he really looked like — a man. the man radiated masculinity like he was the poster child for the hard working all-american man. worn jeans, work boots, faded flannel… the works. his body was thick with muscle, and impressive sight that was definitely thanks to his job. the years showed on his face — but in a way that was handsome and reliable. life seemed to have chewed him up and spit him out, but he didn’t look the type to go down without a fight.

with a moment or two, he was in front of you. he sat down on the stool, and patted the one next to him — gesturing to you.

“what’re you having, sweetheart?”

you stared up at him with confusion and surprise in your eyes, but a blush across your cheeks. your mouth fell open, stammering — as if you hadn’t been embarrassed enough tonight. your eyes darted to your ex — the intoxication starting to wear away as realization set in. he lost his job, girlfriend, and ego all in a matter of a moment — and you knew how these things ended.

“i think i should —“

“he won’t bother you,” the man responded, gesturing to the bartender for two more drinks.

you took a cautious step back — eyes on your ex who was talking with his work buddies now, eyeing you and the man. the blonde had been discarded, scoffing as she found herself in a similar position as you — chewed up and spit out, but not willing to fight.

you were fumbling for your keys now, anxiety beginning to take over. you were shaking as you took several steps back, not knowing whether to run or start crying was the better answer.

the man who had stood up for you then stood, sighing. he saw your ex walking towards you now, and he rolled his eyes in the way an owner would be annoyed with a dog going back for something they were explicitly told not to. the man drank his whisky, and handed you the other glass.

the man only had a take one step towards your ex before your ex had stopped in his tracks, eyes and mouth wide.

“got all the time in the world, bub,” the man spoke. the man had his fists balled at his sides — and, within an instant, sharp bones almost two feet long had sprung from between his knuckles. the man didn’t wince — but everyone else did. with a cocked head, he then continued, “do you?”

when your ex didn’t move, and the man was satisfied that none of his friends were going to make a move… he turned on his heel and stalked back toward you.

“finish your drink, sweetheart — we’re leaving.”

within five minutes, you had finished your drink before you went outside. there was logan — same bone swords unsheathed, but now stabbing into black tires on a familiar truck. you smiled — now your ex didn’t have a ride home.

“can i give you a lift?” you asked.

few hours later — there you sat with the man, who you now knew as logan. you were on one side of the couch — you curled in the corner on the end, and him in the middle turned towards you. the alcohol was flowing, so you didn’t need a blanket over you to keep warm. now, sat across from logan, both of you appearing to feel the effects of whisky — all you wanted was his warmth.

“good hostess,” he spoke as you refilled his whisky glass.

you blushed. “nothing compared to what you did for me back there — least i can do.”

“i gotta ask —“ he said, taking a sip. “why him?”

you shrugged. “guess i learned the hard way you can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.”

he looked at you then — almost through you. you wondered if he could see the same ghosts in your eyes that you could see in his.

he shook his head then, chuckling — appearing to want to break the heavy air. “you’re too young for talk like that, doll — won’t allow it.”

you returned his laugh, realizing you were happy for the subject change. “not every man is like you, logan — first one i met that would’ve done what you did.”

he set his glass down then, and you were struck with the realization of how broad his chest and shoulders were. how the fabric of the stretched across his muscles. how heavy the scent of whisky, maple, wood, and cigar smoke hung on his clothes. you stopped staring at him to meet his eyes then, but he was already looking at you.

logan caught you staring. a blush rose to your cheeks.

“there was a time where men i knew would’ve killed to be served whisky by a pretty girl like you,” he spoke, voice gruff. “time where i would’ve.”

you smiled, insecure under his gaze. “you’re easy on the eyes, lo — can’t imagine you had to put much effort into getting with someone you wanted.”

“oh, doll —“ he spoke, leaning in towards you. his face was barely inches from you, and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted those big, calloused hands on your soft skin — wanted it so fucking bad — but he wouldn’t put them on you. not yet. not quite yet. “sweet, pretty things like you? worth all of the effort in the fucking world.”

you felt one of his hands — his large fucking hands — slide down from your knee, to the side of your thigh. he squeezed lightly on the flesh, loving the feeling of your soft skin. you met his eyes then, dark and hungry. he wasn’t hesitating — he was waiting for your approval or disapproval. he wanted you to know he wanted you, but also that you had the final say.

“y’gonna let me show you how a real man’s supposed to treat a woman?” he asked, tucking a hair behind your ear. “hmm, sugar? climb in my lap, and i’ll show you.”

curiosity killed the cat, but not before it found out what the secret was.

logan fell back against the couch — man spreading, hands on the tops of his thighs with his eyes on you. only on you. there was no more of the adrenaline from earlier, no — but there was the confidence from the warm, dark liquid flowing through your veins. it gave you the push you needed, making you throw a leg over his hips, and sit your ass down right over the tent in his jeans.

“that’s a girl, yeah…” he spoke, his hands ran up and down your thighs. his eyes were raking up and down your body in the way that your ex had looked at the blonde, and it only added to your confidence. you wanted to be wanted — and logan made you feel more sexy than your ex ever had. “tell me, sweetheart — when you look at me, what do you see?”

“a man,” you respond, before you can stop yourself.

he raises his brow then — surprised, but not displeased at your answer. “ — yeah? and what makes me a man?”

you thought for a second, as the alcohol clouded your ability to be witty. you couldn’t pinpoint why — you just knew. while you were thinking, almost stammering — you felt his hand snack underneath your skirt and find your lacy panties. you were struck with the sudden realization of how badly you wanted to show him what they looked like, convinced he would like them — but he wouldn’t let you take off your skirt. you eyed him, confused.

“not yet, doll,” he spoke, voice hoarse. his eyes never left yours. “not taking off this skirt — no matter how much i want to — until you know for sure that i deserve to.”

“logan…!” you grumbled, throwing your head back in mock laughter and frustration. “y’gonna make me beg? come on —"

“beg? not tonight, darlin’,” he laughed. you felt one of his fingers prod at your folds through your panties, poking through your lips to find the hidden sensitive parts of you. you sucked in a sharp breath at the feeling — curious and turned on. “but you are gonna tell me everything you’re going to look for in a man from this point on. when i’m satisfied, then i’ll let you cum.”

“didn’t think you liked games,” you breathed, curiosity, pleasure, and anxiety mixing in your blood.

“i don’t,” he said with finality and sincerity. “i teach lessons, sweetheart — and now i’m gonna teach you how a man should treat you."

“yeah?” you breathed, keeping your lips barely centimeters from his. “and how are you going to accomplish that?”

“rock those pretty hips against my hand, baby —“ he spoke, pressing his fingertips against your clothes core. “and tell me types of guys you're goin' to avoid."

you went to question him, confused — but he pulled you right back in. he pressed two finger tips against your panties, creating the most devious fiction against your sensitive bud. you jumped at the feeling, but he kept your hips steady.

“there’s one —“ he chuckled. “didn’t know how to touch you, yeah? so sensitive — ‘s like he never did.”

“he didn’t know how,” you whined, rolling your hips against his fingers and letting your eyes drift close.

“not surprised,” he grunted. “never a good worker either. so, what’re we avoiding next time, sugar, huh? tell me.”

“i don’t know… i don’t…” your mind was warm and fuzzy now, leaving you unable to answer.

he swatted at the flesh of your ass then, causing your hips to jerk and your eyes to open in shock. he looked up at you, unfazed. “you don’t wanna cum, do you? want me to use you just like him — leave that pussy wet and wanting?”

you giggled. “don’t tempt me.”

his hand reached for your throat, an evil smirk on his lips. “you’re a naughty fucking thing.”

you nodded feverishly, loving the grip on your throat. “for you, lo. i’ll avoid lazy men, i promise —“

“you better,” he warned, his eyes looking up at you with hunger. his wingers were rubbing hard against your clit, and you wanted him oh, so badly to dip into the fabric and roll around your clit or supple hole. “another — tell me. now.”

“careless,” you whined, your hips jerking. “i’ll avoid careless men, logan, i promise —“

“fuck that,” he spat, the grip tightening on your throat. “you’re mine, darlin’.”

he threw you down onto the couch then, landing on your back with a thud. he gave up on his own game, and your confidence bloomed within you. to be so sweet, so pretty — to make a man like logan stumble? forget what he was doing, all because he wanted you so bad? to be in between your plump thighs, round lips, and encircles in those pretty arms? your cheeks were burning pink as your gaze came back into focus above you. there stood logan, on his knees on the couch, as he unbuttoned his flannel with an animalistic chase in his eyes. you couldn’t help but put yourself on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together to keep the friction and heat up. but your eyes? oh, your perfect, big eyes? they were on logan’s. they told you everything you needed to know as he tore off his belt.

“you want me to use you, baby?” he asked as he unzipped his belt. “that’s what my girl wants?”

“by you, lo — a real man,” you breathed, stroking his cock and lining his cock up with the entrance of your pussy.

“good fucking girl,” he growled, plunging his cock into your pussy.

his hips snapped against yours, causing you to jump into the arm rest. you held onto the arm rest, your pillow, to keep you steady. logan liked the sight — pretending that you had your hands tied up above your head as your breasts lifted with your arched back, preening upwards just for him. he watched the shivers run up and down your spine, causing your nipples to peak. he watched them hungrily as they bounced for him and only him, wanting to pull both into his mouth and show you just how greedy real men are.

and when he saw you release the grip held by one hand, and watched it travel down the length of your abdomen, with the end goal of your clit — he swatted your hand away, angry. his gaze — it screamed how fucking dare you?

“fuck off with that shit —“ he spat, pushing your hand back down to hold onto the head rest. “this first time, darlin’? i make you cum — and you lie there, and you take it.”

you whined at his words, your big beautiful eyes on his hungry irises. you folded your lip in between your teeth before you curled your hips up to meet his, wrapped your legs around his hips. never had you been treated with such confidence, such ease — but you wanted him to work for it, see how far he could go to prove to you that he was the best. “you promise, old man? you can keep up?”

the air went still then — but your smirk didn’t falter. it should've, you would realize later. you should've been afraid of the man, knowing what he was capable of when someone tested him. the difference was... logan welcomed the spice in you, as long as it was his to silence. logan’s eyes went wild and dark then, realizing the challenge. he held back so much with you, trying to keep the man awake and the beast dormant — but the greedy girl in you just kept knocking.

he flipped you then — forcing you onto all fours. he bent you over the arm rest, your throat in the crook of his elbow. his free hand groped and pulled at the flesh of your ass, letting go only to smack it. smacksmacksmack. his tough and calloused skin would leave marks, you were sure of it — but it only made your pussy wetter. the sounds were pornographic, filling the room and his nose and ears.

“wasn’t much of a brat tamer, was he?” he spat, fucking into your puffy pussy. his grip on your throat wasn’t tight, but it kept you in control. there was no moving, and there definitely wasn’t enough air to mouth off. “nothing sweet about you — just a greedy fucking girl with the neediest fucking pussy. i'll get'ya there, doll — don't worry now."

you held onto his forearm for dear life, trying to keep your balance as you arched your back up into him. you felt your juices leak around around your sopping wet cunt and down both of your thighs and logan’s. the air was thick with your scent and sounds, pricking at logan’s heightened hearing. your whines — oh, your whines, your fucking whines! — were filling his ribcage and warming every part of him that wasn’t touching you. his lips were sucking at your neck, nipping at the skin . he felt the vibrations of your moans against his lips and he had to fight every instinct to sink his teeth into your shoulder, ruining you for everyone else.

“please — please —“ you choked, smacking against the arm rest. he pulled your free arm back behind your back, forcing you to take everything he gave you.

“not stopping until that pussy creams, baby,” he spat into your ear. his hips were relentless against yours, plunging in and out of your wet folds as he kept them tight and controlled for his use. “when that dumb fuck comes back, to get his stuff? i want him to know who’s pussy this is now. that fucked out look on your face? yeah? that’s all that sack of shit is gonna see before i slam the door in his face.”

“fuck, logan —“ you whimpered. “i’m so close. f-feels so good. please, don’t stop —“

“i know, baby, i know….” he moaned. you reached underneath him, grabbing at his heavy sack and rolling his balls with your finger tips. he jumped at the feeling, curious how a fucked out little thing like you still had so much energy to tease. “never ends with you, huh, does it? always wan’ more?”

“cum with me, lo —“ you choked out. “come on — make me feel it.”

he smacked your ass once more, grasping onto the rippling skin. you could feel your tight muscles, like cement — knowing they would be sore in the morning. you rolled his balls in between your fingers, keeping as controlling of a grip on him as he kept on you. his breaths were ragged against your neck, broken and feverish. your eyes were screwed shut, trying to find his lips in the darkness as you fought with and against logan.

“fill my pussy, baby,” you whined, reaching to any part of him you could grab.

when he saw your eyes, most of the begging in them rather than your tone — he couldn't help it. it took over him before he could even realize it was happening. how could he deny you so,ething you wanted so badly? asked for so sweetly? logan came before you did — much to his dismay, but only for a moment. he felt his skin shiver before his hips snapped forward once to meet yours, trapping you against the arm rest. he rutted into you as the walls of your pussy were coated — dressed in his seed, his spend, his claim. you could hear a growl rumble low in his chest, tearing up at the sound of such a big and strong man at his most vulnerable, his most peaceful state — only for you.

when you reached for your clit again — whining and wanting, ready to take advantage of hearing his satisfied moans in your ear — he smacked your hand away. you scoffed at his movement, but he shut you up quickly. his own fingers found the spot, and his fingers felt better than yours. you should’ve known they would, with the way they attacked you through your panties.

“pussy’s filled to the brim, sugar —“ he grunted. “now i wanna feel it shake while you’re full of me.”

he was so tired, but not his muscles — definitely not his muscles, nor his grip. it held you tight and upright — forcing you to take it in your weak, fucked out state.

“you want me to fuck my cum farther into you, darlin’?” he rasped, fighting his exhaustion through gritted teeth. “i’m too deep, aren’t i? i’ll fuck my cum into your womb if i’m not careful… but you'd like that, wouldn't you? dirty little thing..."

his warning was a threat, but your mind was too soft to realize. too pliant, too ready for him. all you could do was stare off into space as he held you close to him. his fingers spun circles around your puffy clit, his still hard cock piercing into you. “so very deep, lo…”

and when he smacked your clit once before continuing the assault, you came. you came harder than you ever had before — alone, or imagining something in your head as someone else fucked you. it was like your primal nature was being ripped from you, wanting to show and present itself to match logan’s — to show logan you were his match, that you were his equal. you bucked your hips back to meet his, letting the tip of his sensitive cock graze your sensitive walls as you screamed his name. it filled the room more than anything had for him — and it was all he would think about in the days to come. this woman, so worthy and so ready for him — only for him, and all for him.

“that’s it, sweetheart. work for it, that’s right…”

and as his seed slipped into your womb, open and ready for him as you came, you felt his lips press hard, sloppy kisses against your jaw. your own mouth was open, cries falling from it.

“my good girl learned her lesson, didn’t she?” he rasped. “don’t matter now, anyway — no one but me is gonna be in your bed. i'll burn his shit later."

———

i need to touch grass - L xoxo lmk what u think

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.