Random buuuut what about an MC that is oblivious to them wanting to make love?
a/n: i went with the brothers, since i assume u meant them :3 sry they're a little short😓
cw: fluff, suggestive, mentions of sex, implied fem!reader in mammon's, one suicide joke in belphie's
brothers with an mc who is oblivious
lucifer
- he thinks it's endearing at first; how you never seem to understand what his wandering hands mean
- he kisses your neck, whispers into your ear how much he wants you, and you just go "but i'm right here!" for the love of diavolo PLEASE mc
- he loves to tease, so when you unintentionally deflect all his attempts through pure obliviousness he starts to get annoyed oopsie
- you're immune to his ways, and it forces him to be blunt with you. it's not that he's incapable of doing that, he just enjoys a bit of a game beforehand
- finally snaps one night during a makeout session and cages you underneath him in his bed after you fail to recognize the growing bulge in his pants
- leaves a slow, steadily painful bite in the skin of your shoulder as he growls about how much he needs to be inside you
- when he raises his head to see you flushed and wide-eyed, he almost feels bad for scaring you. almost, because not a second later your lips are on his again, hands pulling his own to your shirt hem
mammon
- is constantly walking around his room shirtless, usually in grey sweatpants, obscenely stretching and groaning and you are just. sitting on his bed :) not a care in the world :)
- eventually you ask if he wants a massage with all that noise he's making. he readily takes you up on this offer. finally, you're making a move!
- you beat the fuck out of his back.
- it wasn't really hurting to begin with, and now he isn't sure his muscles are even solid anymore. he thinks acupuncture would've been a more delightful experience, but he keeps that to himself with the way you're naively beaming at him
- tries to grope your chest when you cuddle. when you let him, it's because "they're pretty good stress balls haha :3" ur stressing his balls goddammit
- one night while you're watching a movie he takes your hand and brings it to his chest. slowly, slowly runs it down his body, keeping an eye on you the whole time
- he's like, 99% positive you want him too but that 1% keeps him from fully bringing your hand to his dick. he damn near cries tears of joy when you make the move yourself
leviathan
- yall ain't gettin nowhere ain't doin SHIT
- you're too oblivious to notice the way he blushes and squirms when you get too close, and he's too scared to tell you he's tryna fuck :(
- he's terrified you'll finally see his true, evil, perverted ways (okay guy) and leave him, so he wills his boners down through pure determination undertale reference
- you think he just doesn't want to have sex with you, which is upsetting, sure, but it's okay you love him anyways!! poor guy is jerking off to your smell on his hoodie every night
- it all comes to a head when you sit in his lap one night, the two of you on your bed as he shows you some new game on his handheld
- you shift just right and within a minute he's rock hard beneath you, despite his best efforts to think about gross things like vomit or Mammon's face
- he's immediately stuttering an apology until you grab his face and kiss him hard, muttering something against his lips about how "the only thing you should be apologizing for is not coming to me sooner"
satan
- out of all the brothers, i think he enjoys the "chase" the most. he finds a sense of satisfaction in figuring out what flusters you, using that to his advantage when trying to get you to notice his growing desire
- likes to play footsie with you when you study, or press his chest to your back when he grabs a book on a too-high self, just to see your face get heated
- picks out demon biology books that have... interesting illustrations to see if you get the hint. you don't, instead successfully memorizing the 17 parts of their reproductive systems
- as much as he enjoys toying with you, he's sure he'd enjoy being inside you way more. after one too many deflections in a day, his demon form peeks out
- he agitatedly snaps the tip of his tail against the ground, glaring daggers at anyone who dares to breathe in his vicinity
- you innocently ask him what's wrong, immediately going to calm him down as you normally would; hand on his chest, voice soft and sweet
- it's all too much for him though - the next thing you know he's got you pinned to the door of his bedroom, almost snarling into your skin all the things he's dreamed of doing to you
asmodeus
- oh you are KILLING him. he's, like, the horniest guy in all three worlds and you are somehow interpreting his hand on your ass as casual affection
- he could splay himself out naked on your bed, rose in his mouth, and you'd be like "omg cuddle time :3" he is losing. his. MIND.
- when he does skincare with you he insists on using this specific oil on your ass and thighs. you let him, because he's so caring and sweet and obviously it's just good for your skin!
- damn near bangs his head on the wall because he is literally groping you and you seemingly don't care
- there are times he knows he turns you on too, as the Avatar of Lust and all, but you still don't do anything about it
- you don't mention it, you don't make a move, and you don't return what is obviously sensual affection when he throws it your way! wtf mc >:(
- eventually plainly asks if you even want to have sex with him, pretty pout on his face, and you're like "wtf yes you just never made a move sigh😪"
- the entire Devildom heard him scream that day
beelzebub
- he is too much of a gentleman to throw himself onto you, as badly as he wants to. he's waiting for a big green light first
- can't help himself sometimes though; when he's carrying you bridal-style and you're staring up at him with those big doe eyes, telling him how you love how strong he is? boioioing
- during movie night, when you're sitting in his lap, he growls with each little movement you make. you assume it's his stomach and offer to get him more snacks. he cements his grip around your waist
- has broken the armrest of a chair by gripping his hands into it before. the reason? you sucking chocolate sauce off your fingers. he will probably do it again
- tries to get out all his frustration during workouts, except you insist on tagging along to be his spotter (like the weights he bench presses aren't 3x your size anyways)
- ends up with you underneath him as he does pushups, each one being rewarded with a kiss and your addictive smile
- he's half hard before he's done 10 pushups. his lips are halfway to yours before his dick gets to you first. needless to say, yall got in a different kind of training that night
belphegor
- probably gets irritated the quickest out of everyone. he wants you fully, like, yesterday
- he consistently gives you wet dreams about the two of you; everything he wishes he could do while you were awake, and then some
- when you wake up and don't even mention any dreams to him, he decides he simply has to up the ante. starts whispering innuendos to you before bed - every single one goes over your head bars
- purposefully does things he knows will piss you off, and then eggs you on to "punish" him. you decide on the silent treatment. he decides on suicide.
- wraps his tail around you when he's especially needy, and you just absentmindedly play with the fluffy end, fully unaware of how hot he's getting
- one night he falls asleep first as usual, spooning you; his arms tightly wrapped around you, full body pressed into yours
- he whimpers enough in his sleep for you to wake him up, worried he's having a nightmare. he reassures you it was quite the opposite, and asks - dick already hard - if he can show you just what his dream was about
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Things were getting heated in Mammon's room. Couch pillows were thrown to the floor to make space for two bodies occupying the space of one. Mammon loomed over you, his weight pinning you between cushions and the armrest. All his fidgeting caused your shirt to ride up and the feather clip on his belt tickled the side of your waist. He tilted your head into his palm and rubbed a thumb along your neck as both of you locked lips.
There was a knock at the door.
Mammon inhaled sharply, gasping against your skin as a familiar authoritative voice spoke from the hallway.
"We need to talk," Lucifer said.
Mammon was surprised, to say the least. Ordinarily he'd pick up on someone walking by. He was just so focused on his favorite human that he got a little carried away and lost track of his surroundings. You had a special hold over him that made the rest of the world melt away.
Lucifer's unexpected arrival made him jump. Mammon bit down on your bottom lip and crashed his forehead right into your face. His glasses fell off his head and clattered to the floor. You sputtered in pain as a trickle of blood came out your nose.
"Shit. Fu— Ghh, sorry. Hold on, I'm comin'!"
Mammon started swearing under his breath and looked around for a tissue. There should've been a box somewhere. You would have searched, too, if he wasn't still on top of you. You leaned your head back with a hand clasped over your nose.
Lucifer was not known for being an Avatar of Patience. "Mammon. Now." His voice was tinged with annoyance.
"I said hold on, damn it!" Mammon shouted with equal frustration.
He grabbed the edge of his shirt and hurriedly pressed it against your face with the delicate precision of a mobster smothering their enemy.
You choked on the scent of cologne and blood. Mammon finally got the hint to slide off of you and give you space to breathe during a coughing fit.
"I'll handle this myself," you told him, shooing him with your hand as he continued to fuss over you. The clock was ticking and Lucifer's grace was running out.
He growled, "Fine, but we're not finished yet," and hurried to the door, opening it just a crack.
"Whaddya want?" he asked Lucifer face-to-face. Mammon was visibly disheveled with messy hair, a flipped jacket collar, and blood on his shirt.
Lucifer raised an eyebrow. Mammon tried to keep the door from opening any further, but Lucifer easily pushed it several inches with his foot. You waved at him from the couch.
learnt smtg about sukuna today that kinda shattered my headcannons for him
Apparently he canonically speaks very respectful and traditional japanese, as in like he nvr curses and hes actually very sophisticated in his usage of terms (albeit his tone makes people think hes cursing tjem out lol)
And this kinda broke me bc ive read so many sukuna fics that depicts him as someone who curses a lot and i used to think its so fitting but now i cant help but think its ooc😭😭😭 how do you unlearn a fact
the concept of "personal property" is foreign to your roommate. what belongs to him and what belongs to you simply does not exist in the vocabulary of his.
so when you enter your shared apartment after a grueling nine-hour shift, you already recognize the rhythmic buzz echoing down the hallway. it’s the exact same sound you’ve confronted him about three times this month.
you march down the carpeted hallway and throw the bedroom door wide, not even bothered to knock because he certainly didn’t ask permission to breach your space.
and there he is, your thoroughly infuriating, completely shameless roommate, sprawled across your duvet with those absurdly long, pale legs monopolizing the entire mattress. his glasses are askew on his face, the lenses clouded from his own ragged gasps as he rubs your favourite wand's head against his sensitive cockhead—smearing his sticky pre-cum all over.
“gojo!” you snap, your delivery flat and dripping with unadulterated irritation. "you are doing it again?!"
he lacks even the basic decency to look up from his own groin, refusing to acknowledge your presence at the foot of your bed. his chest heaves under an oversized anime t-shirt, hips giving a needy little twitch as the rattle of the motor continues to pleasure his nerve endings. he rolls his head back into your pillows, letting out a shaky, wet moan that sounds nearly pornographic.
“shh… wait a sec,” he pants, his voice thick and raspy; a world apart from his typically fast-talking cadence that usually annoys the shit out of you. “i'm almost there. don’t be mad, it just… it feels so much better than my hands…”
you’ve had the boundary talks. you’ve threatened to lock your door (which he can bypass anyway). you’re tired, your feet hurt, and the audacity of him sitting in your room, treating your personal drawer like his own candy shop without an ounce of shame, makes your blood boil.
you stride over to the bed, and before his overstimulated brain can register the sudden movement, you reach down and wrench his hand away from his grip, sending the toy clattering onto the floorboards.
“hey!” he whines, a petulant, spoiled-brat pout instantly forming on his lips as his eyes finally dart up to yours. “i was literally right there! c’mon, that’s just cruel—”
unable to tolerate his dumb whining a second longer, you drop to your knees beside the mattress and clamp your hand around the bottom of his cock with intentional force. before he can even puff at the sudden restriction of his blood flow, you raise your other hand to land a stinging slap directly across the pink flesh of his tip with a loud smack!
satoru gasps, his spine arching off beautifully as his body spasms from the impact. his vivid blue eyes are now blown wide, blinking rapidly behind his spectacles while a miserable whimper spills from his plush lips. "do you think you can just use my things because you are too lazy to buy your own?"
to penalize his arrogance further, ensuring the lesson sinks into his imbecile brain, you squeeze your thumb and forefinger around the tender skin beneath the swollen mushroom head and pinch, using enough force to guarantee a lasting red mark.
the reaction is instantaneous. the agony of the nip, combined with another slap across his aching dick, pushes his nervous system into overload. satoru releases a startled shriek, his hips thrashing desperately as he tries to wrench his hips away from your horrific grip, thighs jerking against the sheets in a futile attempt to escape the blinding pain.
but your hands are unrelenting, and the torment only accelerates the climax. his cock throbs spastically as if its trying to communicate something using morse code before he erupts.
thick, pearly ropes of cum shoot straight up, splattering across his own flat stomach and the hem of his shirt, dripping down the pale skin of his abs.
“oh god—” he groans, voice cracking as his upper body collapses back into the pillows, the sudden impact knocking his glasses off his nose to land sideways on the mattress. he looks like a total wreck; his mouth hanging open, a thin strand of saliva bridging his lips as he stares up at you with dazed, dilated pupils that consume his baby blue irises.
even as the intense peak subsides, his hips give one final, weak roll against your hand, and he possesses the sheer nerve to smile—a lazy, unrepentant smirk forming on his stupidly handsome face.
“do… do that again,” he whispers, breathless and shameless as ever, cocking his head like an overly enthusiastic bunny. “slap it again for me..?”
After a tragic accident erased your memories, you no longer remember the man you married. Unfortunately for you, Ryomen Sukuna remembers everything. And he'll do whatever it takes to make you remember him too.
Everything was so much weird.
When you first opened your eyes, the world was a blur of harsh lights and a rhythmic, annoying beep that made your head throb. A crowd of people were hovering over your bed, their faces twisted into expressions of pure horror and desperation. It felt like they were looking at a ghost or maybe a god that had suddenly fallen from the sky. The moment you blinked and stared back at them with blank, unrecognizing eyes, the room dissolved into quiet, breathless weeping.
You were completely utterly lost. Who was the woman with the dark circles under her eyes calling herself Shoko? Why was she gripping your hand like her entire world was ending? You knew your own name y/n echoed clearly in the empty caverns of your mind, but beyond that single fact, there was only a vast, terrifying void. You understood the modern world. you knew what a smartphone was, you recognized the concept of Wi-Fi, and when you mumbled those details, the doctors in the room let out collective, gasping sighs of relief.
But the real shock came twenty minutes later.
The heavy door to the hospital room burst open with a violent slam. A man lunged inside like a madman, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. You had never seen anyone look like him. His hair was a soft, striking shade of pastel pink so pretty and unexpected that you wondered for a fleeting second if he had dyed it just to stand out. Dark, intricate tattoos mapped across his skin, curling around his sharp cheekbones and framing his eyes. And those eyes... they were a piercing, burning red, swirling with a volatile mixture of terrifying rage and profound, shattering sadness.
You just sat there in your oversized, faded blue hospital gown, looking small and fragile as your confused gaze met his. The man froze, roughly brushing a strand of pink hair out of his face. His clothes were covered in a layer of grey dust and dried grit, looking as though he had sprinted straight off a construction site the second he got the news.
"Fucking... God. Hey, princess... fuck, don't you ever scare me like that again" he breathed, his deep, gravelly voice cracking as he took two massive strides toward your bedside, staring down at you with a desperation that made the air feel heavy.
You shrank back into the pillows, your brow furrowing. Princess? Were you in some bizarre historical simulation? Did kings and horses still exist? No, the blinking medical monitors around you disproved that immediately.
"Mr. Sukuna, please. I need to speak with you in private for a moment" a woman in her mid forties interrupted, her expression incredibly grave as she stepped between you and the huge man. She glanced at the other people lingering by the door. There was a teenage boy, maybe sixteen, who had the exact same pink hair as the tattooed man, his face streaked with tears. Beside him stood another boy with unruly, spiky black hair and a dull, stoic expression that couldn't quite hide the anxiety in his eyes. At the doctor's quiet command, they all slowly filed out into the hallway.
Left alone for a moment, you stared at the stark white walls, the untouched glass of water on the bedside table, and the crushing, dull monotony of the room.
When the door clicked open again, the female physician returned, holding a thick medical chart. The tattooed man followed closely behind her. He tried to offer you a small, reassuring smile, but it looked incredibly strained on his rugged face. His crimson eyes locked onto you, tracking every breath you took as if you might literally vanish into thin air if he dared to look away for a single second.
"Hello, y/n. I am Dr. Jennifer" the woman said kindly, stepping up to the mattress. "Do you know why you were brought here today?"
You frowned, looking between her and the towering man. "No."
The syllable was short and hollow. Beside the doctor, Sukuna’s entire frame stiffened. His jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered violently beneath his tattoos, his knuckles turning white as he balled his hands into fists.
"Right. But you do remember your name?" she pressed gently.
"Yes... y/n I am Y/N." you answered firmly. You knew the name belonged to you, even if the history attached to it was completely gone.
"And do you know where you are right now?"
"A hospital?"
"Correct" Dr. Jennifer nodded, opening the document in her hands. "Look, I am going to explain exactly what happened, and I need you to listen very carefully, alright?" You gave a small, hesitant nod. "You were in a severe accident yesterday evening. You were walking home from the local market when a car veered off the road and hit you. It is a miracle you walked away with minor physical injuries, but the trauma to your head has caused a severe case of retrograde amnesia. Honestly, it's a surprise you even remember your name right now."
You let out a quiet hum, your eyes drifting down to your own hands resting on the thin blanket. That was when you noticed it a slender, platinum band set with a brilliant, flawlessly cut diamond resting securely on your left ring finger. It looked incredibly expensive, classy, and entirely foreign
So you were married.
"Y/n" Dr. Jennifer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You snapped your head up to look at her. "This man standing beside me... he is your husband."
The doctor tilted her head toward the giant. He was massive easily over six feet of raw, intimidating muscle, his tattooed face giving him a terrifying, dangerous aura. Your very first instinctual thought was that this man looked incredibly scary.
Sukuna didn't say a word. He just stood there, letting you analyze him, before he offered you a tiny, incredibly vulnerable nod. You tilted your head, staring into his intense red eyes, desperately searching for a single spark of familiarity. Did I really marry this giant?
"His name is Ryomen Sukuna, and he is going to take care of you" the doctor continued, closing her chart. "For the next few weeks, you need to let your brain rest, but you also need to gently stimulate it to try and regain those lost memories. Spending time in a familiar environment, in your own home with your husband, is going to be the best medicine for you."
You nodded mutely. You didn't exactly have a choice. You were being handed over to a complete stranger who happened to hold a legal claim to your entire life.
"Alright then. I wish you a safe and speedy recovery" Dr. Jennifer said with a final, empathetic smile before slipping out of the room.
The heavy silence that followed was suffocating. Sukuna cleared his throat roughly, taking a few slow, tentative steps toward the edge of your bed. He moved with an immense amount of caution, as if he genuinely believed a sudden movement might break you into pieces. He pulled up the small plastic chair, sinking into it.
"Hey" he said softly. Even in a whisper, his voice was incredibly manly, deep, and rough.
"Hello" you replied shortly, your eyes tracking his hands.
To your surprise, his large, scarred fingers were trembling slightly as he fidgeted with them, refusing to meet your eyes. When he finally looked up, you realized the piercing red of his irises was completely glossy, swimming with unshed tears.
"Yo... you're getting discharged today" he choked out, taking a deep, ragged breath as if the mere act of speaking was causing him physical pain. "I'm going to go sign the paperwork, and then I'm taking you to... our house. I'm going to do whatever the fuck it takes to help you remember, princess."
You stared at his rugged, tattooed face for a long moment before letting out a soft, distant hum.
An hour later, you were sitting in the passenger seat of a sleek, black Jeep, The man Sukuna kept his left hand firmly on the steering wheel while his eyes flicked toward you every sixty seconds, his intense gaze making a nervous flutter erupt in your stomach.
You stared out the window, watching the city buildings, sprawling neighborhoods, and vibrant green trees blur past. Intrigued by the warm breeze, you raised your hand, pressing your palm gently against the glass as if you wanted to touch the passing leaves. Instantly, the window smoothly rolled down. Startled, you turned your head to find Sukuna adjusting the master controls, his eyes locked onto you with an unreadable warmth.
"Can I ask you something-" you murmured softly.
"Yes." The answer came incredibly fast, almost desperate. He was hanging on your every word, practically begging for you to speak to him.
"How... how did we meet?" you asked, leaning your elbow on the door frame as the wind whipped through your hair.
"We met in high school" he answered quickly, navigating a sharp turn onto a quiet, "We've been married for seven years."
"High school?" You tilted your head, a faint smile touching your lips as you extended your hand just slightly out into the rushing air. "Were we friends back then?"
"Careful" he commanded firmly, though there was no real heat in his voice. You obediently pulled your hand back inside. A faint, nostalgic softness crept into his red eyes as he looked ahead. "Friends? no. You could say we didn't liked eachother each other when we first met. You thought I was a loud, arrogant mannerless jerk and I thought you were a stubborn, bossy brat."
He smoothly pulled the Jeep into a long brick driveway, coming to a stop in front of a breathtaking, modern two story house. It was painted a crisp, elegant white with sleek charcoal-grey accents, boasting massive, floor to ceiling windows that caught the afternoon sun.
"This is...our house" Sukuna murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "We've been living here for about four years."
He killed the engine, threw his door open, and practically sprinted around the hood of the car to open your door before you could even reach for the handle. He extended a massive, tattooed hand toward you, his palm open and waiting. You stared at his hand, your eyes traveling up the thick muscles of his forearm, before you deliberately stepped down onto the driveway without taking it.
Sukuna’s hand froze in mid-air. You watched his fingers slowly curl back into a fist before he pulled his arm away, a flash of pure, agonizing heartbreak crossing his features before he quickly masked it with a stoic expression.
As your feet hit the pavement, you looked up at the towering structure, desperately begging your brain to spark even a single ounce of familiarity. Nothing came. But as you turned around, you caught a glimpse of the man standing beside you. He was on the absolute verge of tears. His chest was tight, his jaw locked as he stared at you. You were his entire world, his beautiful wife, and yet you were looking at him like he was a total stranger. He suddenly felt a wave of profound hatred for every single time he had ever been mean or stubborn with you in the past, even in jest. He just wanted his girl back. His sweet innocent girl.
"The house is beautiful" you murmured gently, walking toward the porch.
'The house.' Not our house. The detached wording made Sukuna’s jaw clench painfully.
"Of course it is. I built the damn thing" he muttered, following closely behind you.
It was your exact dream house. Years ago, back when you were just broke college students dating in a cramped apartment, you had traced a clumsy design on a napkin, telling him you wanted a modern white house with endless windows, three bedrooms, and a kitchen large enough for the two of you to bake and slow-dance together while listening to old jazz records. Sukuna had kept that napkin. The moment he made his fortune, he hired a crew but did the vast majority of the heavy structural work with his own two hands. He had gifted you the keys on your third wedding anniversary, and he could still vividly remember the way you had wept tears of joy, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him until you were both breathless. He wanted that smile back. He would give anything just to have you look at him the way you used to.
You stepped inside, ignoring the heavy emotion rolling off him. Sukuna quickly gathered your small hospital bags and followed you into the foyer, shutting the door behind him.
Your eyes immediately gravitated toward the kitchen. It was vast, open, and undeniably stunning, featuring a massive quartz island and a huge sliding glass door that opened directly into a manicured backyard garden. The entire layout felt strangely perfect.
"Let me show you... around" Sukuna offered quietly.
He spent the next half hour guiding you through the corridors of what was supposed to be your life. But as he showed you the grand master bedroompointing out the side of the bed where you used to curl into his chest every single night your face remained entirely blank. You felt a twinge of heavy guilt pooling in your stomach. He showed you the living room, drawing your attention to a collection of large, breathtaking canvas paintings hanging on the walls.
"You painted those" Sukuna noted, a faint trace of pride in his rough voice. "You're a brilliant artist, princess."
You blinked in genuine surprise, looking down at your hands. "I drew these?" You were suprised, you don't even remember touching a brush in your life. But this is your new life. New start.
"Yeah." Sukuna stopped at the edge of the hallway, looking down at you with completely bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept a single second since the hospital called him about your accident. All he wanted to do was wrap his massive arms around your waist, pull you flush against his chest, and bury his face in your hair until the nightmare ended. But he couldn't. "Look... you can sleep in the guest bedroom down the hall, or you can take our bedroom and I'll stay in the guest room. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable you."
"Okay" you hummed softly.
His heart broke a little more at the compliant, distant tone. "I'll go start on some dinner, and then I'll get your medication ready. If you need a single damn thing, you just call out for me, alright? Your clothes are all in the dresser, undergarments in the top drawer, pajamas in the second..."
You nodded, offering him a polite murmur of thanks before retreating into the guest room. You changed into a simple, comfortable t-shirt and sweats. A little while later, his deep voice echoed up the stairs, announcing that dinner was ready. You walked down to the dining room, sitting at the large table like a polite houseguest waiting to be served.
"Do you need help?" Sukuna asked, carefully sliding a steaming bowl of homemade chicken soup and a large spoon toward you. You shook your head, grasping the utensil and taking a quiet sip. He sat across from you, his own bowl entirely untouched as he just stared at your face. "Y/n... you really don't remember a single damn thing about me?"
His voice cracked completely on the last word, the raw vulnerability of a ruthless man exposed right in front of you. You looked up, meeting his glossy red eyes.
"No... I don't. I'm really sorry" you whispered genuinely.
He let out a slow nod, swallowing the lump in his throat as he forced himself to look away. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault."
"Do I... do I have parents? Or friends?" you asked, a sudden curiosity about your own forgotten life bubbling up.
"Yeah. You have parents. Your father—"
"Where are they?" you interrupted quickly, leaning forward. "Do they know I was in an accident? Why aren't they here?"
"They haven't spoken to you in over seven years. Not since the day you married me" Sukuna said, his tone dropping into something cold and bitter.
"Why?"
"Your family is rich as fuck. Extremely strict, arrogant aristocrats" Sukuna explained, his red eyes locking back onto yours. "They completely forbade you from seeing me because I was just a rough, tattooed bastard from the wrong side of the tracks with a criminal record and a unstable future. They told you that if you walked out that door with me, you’d be cut off permanently."
You stared at him, a sudden spark of heat flaring in your chest. "Well, that's so stupid of them. It sounds like a good thing we don't talk to them then."
The sheer, unyielding loyalty in your voice made Sukuna’s lips twitch, a genuine, heartbreaking smile threatening to break through his stoic mask. Even with a wiped memory, his sweet wife still possessed that exact same fiery, protective spirit.
"Yeah" he chuckled hoarsely, letting out a long sigh. "You have an incredible best friend named Shoko. You two are both doctors. you work in the exact same surgical unit at the city hospital. We have a ton of mutual friends we met back in our high school days. And those kids at the hospital? The pink-haired teenager is my nephew, Yuji, and the dark-haired one is Megumi, our friend's kid. They practically worship the ground you walk on, princess. You love those brats to death."
"Can I see them?" you asked, a genuine smile finally breaking across your face.
"Of course. Whenever you want." he promised, his eyes tracking the way your lips curved.
Sukuna let out a sudden, rough snort, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes. "Old or not, woman... you're still completely breathtaking."
A deep, violent blush instantly stained your cheeks. You hadn't been around an attractive man or any man, for that matter in your conscious memory, and having this giant, dangerously handsome individual throw such a raw compliment at you made your heart do a chaotic somersault. You quickly looked down at your soup, missing the way his eyes softened at your reaction.
Over the next three weeks, the fragments of a life began to surround you, even if the puzzle pieces wouldn't quite lock into place.
Yuji and Megumi came over to the house constantly. Yuji spent hours enthusiastically teaching you how to make his signature protein shakes and weird jello molds, his loud laughter filling the quiet house, while Megumi sat nearby with his usual serious expression. But the moment you offered Megumi a soft, encouraging smile, his sharp features would instantly melt into something deeply tender. Yet, beneath their smiles, you could see the underlying sadness in their eyes every time you failed to remember a shared inside joke.
When Shoko finally visited, she broke down completely, throwing her arms around your neck and sobbing into your shoulder. It was a bizarre maybe stupid too, overwhelming feeling being fiercely loved by people you couldn't even remember and a heavy weight of guilt began to settle deep in your chest. You even met Toji, Megumi's father, a tall, stoic man who didn't say much but looked at you with a quiet, profound pity that made you realize just how broken your situation truly was.
And then, there was Sukuna.
Your husband spent every single day patiently guiding you through your routines, driving you past your old university, cooking your favorite meals, and trying every gentle trigger possible. But your mind remained a stubborn, locked vault. Sukuna was growing desperate furious and completely fucked up by the stagnation.
To make matters worse, just one week before the accident, you had playfully taken down every single one of your framed marriage photographs to rearrange the living room gallery wall, hiding them away in a "genius spot" that Sukuna had completely forgotten more like you didn't even told him. He had spent hours frantically tearing the house apart while you were out, searching for a single modern photo of the two of you together.
He was completely unraveling. He couldn't sleep. The woman he loved was sleeping in the room next to him, yet she looked at him with the polite, distant eyes of a stranger. He felt like a ghost haunting his own home. One evening, he sat alone in the dark kitchen and wept the third time he had ever cried in his entire life. The first had been tears of pure joy on your wedding day when he saw you walking the aisle. the second had been out of terror when the ER doctor told him a car had struck you. and now, he was crying simply because he missed his wife so damn much
His phone offered no help either. his gallery was filled entirely with candid photos he had taken of you you stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head, you laughing in a department store dressing room, or a hilarious picture of you biting into a raw lemon and making a completely disgusted face. He had no photos of the two of you together on his device, you had always been the one insisted on keeping the physical, printed albums. The only joint photos he could find were a few faded, wrinkled prints from your high school days, showing a younger, wilder version of himself wrapping his arms around you from behind while you laughed into the camera. When he showed them to you, you just stared at them blankly. It was killing him.
At the end of the third week, Sukuna was sitting heavily on the living room sofa, completely exhausted after another failed search through the house. He was mindlessly scrolling through the candid photos of you on his phone, a faint, melancholy smile touching his lips. His fingers traced your face on the photo, your bright smile. your bubbly laughter at his most unfunniset jokes, now all of that are vanished.
The heavy front door clicked open. Shoko had taken you out for an afternoon of shopping to get you out of the house, and she had just dropped you off at the curb. You stepped into the foyer, balancing several shopping bags in your arms.
Sukuna instantly locked his phone, shoving it into his pocket as he stood up, his red eyes drinking in the sight of you. "Had fun, princess?"
"Yes, I did. And thank you... for letting me use your credit card" you said softly, walking over to the coffee table and gently sliding the black card back toward him.
"You bought dresses?" he asked, pointing toward the bags. Honestly, he didn't give a single fuck about the money. you could have emptied his entire bank account and he would have gladly signed it away just to see you happy.
"I bought a few things..." You cleared your throat nervously, your fingers twisting together. "But... I actually bought something for you, too."
The words hit his chest like a physical blow. Even with her mind completely wiped, your beautiful, kind soul was still looking out for him. "Really?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Can I see it?"
You gave a small nod, walking over to the couch and tentatively sitting down right next to him. The close proximity made his heart start to hammer against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"I don't know if it's really your style, or if you'll even like it..." you mumbled bashfully, reaching into a small velvet pouch and pulling out a heavy, intricately braided silver bracelet studded with raw, brilliant red stones. "The color... it just immediately reminded me of you. Of your eyes."
You gently reached out, grasping his massive, calloused wrist to drape the metal over his skin. Oh God, if you only knew how fast his heart was racing beneath his chest. Your soft, warm fingers lingering against his pulse point was pure, exquisite torture.
"It looks incredible, Y/n. Thank you." he whispered, a genuine, breathtakingly soft smile spreading across his tattooed face as he looked down at the crimson stones.
"Thank you... for being so incredibly patient with me" you said quietly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
Sukuna let out a long, ragged sigh, his hand hovering over yours for a fraction of a second before he pulled back. "I will always be patient with you, princess. Always."
You looked directly into his burning red eyes, and for the first time in three weeks, a warm, genuine smile broke across your face. Sukuna felt his breath hitch. he was entirely certain he was about to pass out from the sheer weight of his love for you.
"Can you stay right here for a bit? I need to go jump in the shower real quick. I'll be fast" he muttered hoarsely, his hand instinctively reaching out to gently ruffle your hair a comforting, domestic habit he had carefully maintained. You let out a soft chuckle at the gesture.
The moment his heavy footsteps disappeared up the stairs and the sound of running water echoed through the pipes, you stood up, wandering aimlessly around the quiet main floor. Your feet pulled you toward the small, cozy library nestled just off the living room. The walls were lined with hundreds of books some ancient leather volumes, others modern art textbooks. You pulled one off the shelf, flipping through the pages before sliding it back into place.
As you stepped back, your eyes caught a glimpse of something hidden on the absolute highest shelf, shoved far back into the shadows near the ceiling. It looked like a massive, heavy frame leaning flat against the back wall, obscured by a decorative ceramic vase. Intrigued, you stood on your tiptoes, stretching your arms up as high as they could go, blindly reaching for the top edge of the wooden frame.
Your fingers caught the molding, but as you pulled, the heavy ceramic vase shifted, losing its balance.
Crash!
The vase shattered against the hardwood floor with a deafening, echoing smash. Startled, you let out a sharp cry, stumbling backward as the massive hidden frame came tumbling down from the top shelf, striking the edge of the desk before landing flat on the rug. The backing of the frame split completely open upon impact, and a massive cascade of loose, glossy photographs erupted across the floor hundreds of them, scattering like playing cards across the room.
You gasped, placing a hand over your racing heart as you looked away from the broken pottery, your eyes drifting down to the sea of images covering the floor.
You froze.
Right at your feet lay a massive, professionally printed portrait. In the photograph, you were sitting securely on Sukuna's lap. You were wearing a breathtaking, flowing white lace wedding dress, holding a vibrant bouquet of sunflowers, and laughing so brightly your eyes were crinkled shut. Sukuna was clad in a sharp, tailored black tuxedo, his massive arms wrapped fiercely around your waist from behind, an absolutely massive, unbothered, triumphant grin plastered across his face.
Your breath hitched violently. You stumbled forward, falling to your knees as your hands frantically snatched up another photo from the pile. In this one, you were hoisted high up on Sukuna's broad shoulders at a crowded, flashing outdoor music festival; your mouth was wide open in a breathless scream of laughter, while his large hands were clamped firmly around your thighs to keep you safe, both of your faces painted with pure, unadulterated euphoria.
You grabbed a third photo, and the entire world stopped spinning. It was a quiet, intimate shot taken right in the backyard garden outside. You were sitting cross-legged on the green grass, wearing a simple summer dress with a soft, shy smile, while Sukuna’s heavy head was resting completely in your lap. He was looking up at you with an expression of such pure, unconditional adoration it made your soul ache, while your fingers were woven gently through his soft pink hair.
Pink hair.
The backyard.
The jazz music.
The napkin.
A sudden, violent explosion of memories ripped through the barriers of your mind. It wasn't a trickle; it was a catastrophic, roaring tidal wave. Seven years of laughter, fierce arguments, passionate late-night apologies, the smell of his skin, the exact weight of his body pressing you into the master mattress, the sound of his deep voice whispering "I've got you, princess" into the dark. It all hit your brain at once with the force of a freight train.
The sheer, overwhelming velocity of the memories made the room spin violently. Your vision blurred into a vortex of white light and crimson eyes. You let out a choked gasp, your strength entirely giving out as your body collapsed sideways onto the hardwood floor with a loud, heavy thud, the scattered photographs of your life pooling around your unconscious form.
When you finally opened your eyes again, the harsh glare of the ceiling lights was gone, replaced by the warm, dim ambiance of the living room. You were laying flat on the soft fabric of the sofa.
"She's waking up! Sukuna, look, her eyes are moving!" Yuji’s panicked, loud voice cut through the quiet room.
You blinked heavily, your vision slowly focusing. Megumi was standing right beside his cousin, his dark eyes wide and completely swimming with anxiety. Shoko was hovering over you, a small medical flashlight in her hand, her face pale as she checked your vitals.
But your heart didn't care about any of them. Your eyes frantically scanned the tight circle of people, instantly landing on the massive, tattooed man standing frozen at the foot of the couch. His pastel pink hair was damp from the shower, his chest heaving under a plain black t-shirt, and his face was a mask of pure, absolute terror.
As your eyes met his, a single, heavy tear spilled over your eyelid, tracing a hot path down your cheek. The vast, terrifying void in your mind was completely gone, replaced by the roaring, beautiful fire of your reality.
"Ryo..." you choked out, your voice a broken, breathless sob.
Sukuna froze, his entire frame visibly violently shuddering at the sound of the nickname the private, intimate name only you were ever allowed to call him.
Before anyone else could even blink, you threw yourself forward off the sofa cushions, completely ignoring the dull ache in your muscles. You lunged straight into his space, your arms wrapping fiercely around his massive neck. You buried your face in the crook of his collarbone, gripping the fabric of his shirt with a desperate, white-knuckled intensity as you pressed a hard, crying kiss directly against his tattooed jaw.
"I remember... us" you sobbed violently into his skin, your entire body trembling as the tears flowed freely. "I remember everything, Ryo... I remember you."
Sukuna’s mind completely blanked. For a single, breathless second, he couldn't even process the words. And then, a raw, ragged sound escaped his throat a mixture of a sob and a laugh. His massive, powerful arms came crashing down around your frame, pulling you so close against his chest you could barely breathe, lifting your knees entirely off the floor as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
And there, in the middle of his living room, surrounded by his family and the scattered photographs of your love, Ryomen Sukuna closed his eyes and wept for the fourth time in his life.
"I fucking love you" he whispers
(not me me writing all night just for 36 like and one reblog😣🙏🏾)
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first day, first lecture, actually. he stepped in late, and the only empty seat left was beside you. you both stared at the professor in pure, utterly confused silence, question marks probably floating on top of your heads as you tried to gather anything. after five minutes, you simply turned and asked him to let you pass so you could leave.
he grabbed his stuff, joining you. he asked if you wanted to grab coffee, and that’s how it all started.
three years later, you were the untouchable sukuna ryomen’s girlfriend. your relationship was private, no one knew any details (it wasn’t like anyone would dare to ask sukuna, especially with the way his resting face was a terrifying glare to everyone else) and you two preferred it that way.
no one knew the details. no one knew how sukuna was deeply and utterly smitten— the scowling, terrifying, muscular 6’4 man turning immediately into lovesick puppy for you. clingy, needy, obsessed, your guard dog of a boyfriend never ever let you doubt his love. he always made it clear, whether it was his arm’s wrapped around you every chance he got, or him spamming your phone whenever you weren’t around, using any excuse to talk to you, or the way he dropped everything for you, making it clear you were his first priority, or the way he listened intensely to every word that left your mouth and noticed everything about you— which showed when he referenced your words from months ago, or bought you gifts you didn’t even mention, or could tell you weren’t okay from a single glance.
it really was not a lie that sukuna ryomen loved you. he knew it. you knew it. his frat knew it. everyone that really knew sukuna knew he loved you.
which was why the break up broke you.
that night didn’t even seem real. he had ignored you for a total of three days, replying to your texts dryly, which was already odd. then, he showed to to your place in the middle of the night, jaw clenched, eye bags dark, like he hasn’t slept in days. he didn’t elaborate, didn’t explain— simply told you he was tired, that he couldn’t do this anymore, and walked away.
like he didn’t just ruin you. like you two weren’t discussing your shared future a few days ago. like you two hadn’t already agreed what stupid fucking roses you wanted at your wedding. like he hasn’t kissed you so softly just a few days ago, murmuring soft pleads for you to never leave him.
to make it worse, he didn’t disappear after. he attended your shared lectures as usual— sitting behind you, always behind you, like he needed to keep you in his vision. he left your notifications on, which you knew because he remained the first to view every story until you blocked him. he kept going to your favorite cafe beside campus (he didn’t even like their coffee) at the exact same time you always did, his sad eyes set on you, buying a single water bottle each time, until you stopped going. you even had to stop going to the library late at night, because he would always be there, blank notebooks open as he pathetically pretended to focus when his eyes wouldn’t leave you alone. even late at night, when you would scroll through your chats, you would see his bubble. tying. erasing. there.
it was worse, because it was obvious that he still loved you.
it made you want to scream, really. it would have been better if he just… pretended you didn’t exist. ignored you. blocked you first. flirted with girls in your vision. did anything to make you feel like he didn’t care anymore. like he didn’t give a fuck, so you could move on. so you wouldn’t get the stupid urge to show up to his place and ask him what the fuck his issue was. so you could hate him.
but again, unfortunately for you, sukuna was never good at hiding his love for you.
it was going to be okay, though. because sukuna already broke it up, and moving on was clearly the only good solution. it wasn’t like he will ever come back, anywa—
bzzz.
dilf420: bro. ur fucking bf is sulking and ruining my party. can you come pick his drunk ass up. ill pay u.
you blinked once at the notification, then twice, then immediately opened it. you really should have blocked the whole frat.
you: broke up. no longer my bf. also, ur broke.
toji replied immediately.
dilf420: idc that u two broke up he’s drunk and blabbering about missing his fucking wife come pick his ass up
you stared at the dm blankly, eyes staring at the words like it would disappear if you blinked.
his fucking wife.
your throat felt dry. heart physically hurting, like someone’s fingers were digging into the muscle and squeezing it the way sukuna used to squeeze your fingers before kissing each knuckle. it hurt, so much, your vision slowly blurring the longer you stared at the three words.
on the other side of the phone, sukuna was pressed against toji, shoving his face into the cracked screen, face flushed from the alcohol, lips almost pouting, hair messy from running his hands through it so many times. “is she answerin’?” he muttered, voice slurred. “my pretty wife, is she comin’?”
toji sighed. “nah, man. she left me on read. you’re so fucked.”
sukuna groaned, stumbling slightly before he was leaning on the wall, eyes shut in pure devastation. “she hates me. what if she doesn’t wanna get back?”
“…you showed up at three in the morning and broke up with her without giving her a reason, bro. on gojo’s soul, she does not want to get back.”
it was silent for a few seconds before a quiet sniffle echoed in the room, and toji’s head snapped to the untouchable, scary figure sliding down the wall, face buried into his hands, shoulders trembling. toji’s eyes widened briefly, but sukuna grunted, the sound shaky. “not a fucking word.”
the next monday, you were still recovering from toji’s dm as you slid into your morning, 8:30 am lecture. you were half-asleep, buried in sweatpants and a hoodie, hood up in an attempt to hide from the world. your eyes were drooping sleepily, head slowly slipping from where your head rested on your palm, the tip of your pen slowly seeping ink into the paper.
someone slides beside you, and you freeze. you knew that cologne. you bought that cologne.
you didn’t move a muscle, shoulders tense, eyes suddenly focused as they stared ahead. you could feel his gaze, his thigh pressing against yours in the annoyingly small seats. you could feel the heat from his skin, even from the thick fabric of your sweatpants.
…what the fuck was he doing?
your jaw clenched, before you took a quiet deep breath, convincing yourself he must have not looked properly when picking a seat. it takes a few minutes, but you’re finally able to focus back on your professor again, ignoring the way you could feel his gaze shifting to you ever few seconds.
“…i’m sorry.”
you sucked in a sharp, annoyed breath, gaze still ahead, fingers tightening around the pen in your grasp, eyes unamused. he slowly placed a cup on your desk— your favorite coffee, from your favorite cafe. you froze, and you could see him wincing from your peripheral vision.
“…give me a chance explain, please?”
you carefully pushed yourself up, grabbing your bag and notebook, and silently stepped out of the hall. outside, toji was standing, a sigh on his lips as he caught up with you despite how you only spared him an annoyed glare.
“he loves you, you know that.” toji murmured. “give him a chance to explain.”
“no.” you muttered. “he’s a coward who left me without an explanation. now he wants to give me one?”
toji grimaced. “that wasn’t his brightest moments, but… come on, he’s your sukuna.”
“he made it clear he’s not.”
that night, you were dragged to one of their parties, curtesy of gojo begging you to show with tears and snot running down his face, using a lame excuse about how everyone in the frat misses you. you didn’t buy it, but you had to stop the embarrassingly loud bawling boy on your doorstep.
now, you sat in their kitchen, perched on the counter, an overly sweet drink between your fingers, and a staring ex-boyfriend on the other side.
sukuna was sulking.
eyes set on you, lips pursed, arms crossed— he ignored everyone who stared at him just so he could keep his eyes on you. geto and nanami sighed as they passed, geto offering him a bottle casually, and sukuna grabbed it, eyes still on you before he tilted his head back and drowned half the bottle down, only stopping when nanami pulled it back while snapping about expensive liquor.
the thing about sukuna? he was a lightweight, and an emotional drunk. that usually manifested in a shorter temper when he wasn’t with you, and him being unbelievably clingy with you, and now, a few hours after gulping random drinks down?
it manifested in him dragging himself to stand in front of you, lips wobbling and eyes tearful, looking like a kicked puppy instead of the frat bro everyone was terrified off. “baby…”
you hated how your own heart clenched, fingers digging into your palm to prevent yourself from cooing at him and tugging him into your hold safely. you only narrowed your eyes at him, and his eyes glossed even more. he opened his mouth, probably to beg, only to halt dangerously.
you, unfortunately, knew him too well. you let out a loud groan, quickly jumping off and dragging him to an empty bathroom upstairs, shutting the door just in time for him to drop to his knees and empty his stomach out into the toilet. he let out a choked sob between retches, and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a hand slowly rubbing his back. “dumbass.”
“i miss you so much,” he immediately whimpered, eyes shut painfully. “i miss you so, so, much. please, angel, forgive me, please— i want you back, i need you back, ‘m a stupid son of a bitch for every breaking it off, i need you in my life, please—“
he was interrupted with another gag, and you sighed, resuming to rub his back as he continued, your own vision blurry, heart shattering at the broken sob he let out once he was done.
“breathe.” you murmured softly. “come on, kuna, breathe for me. you can do that, yeah?”
“no,” he choked out. “i can’t— can’t even breathe without you, baby. please, please, forgive me for being a dumb idiot, i need my wife back, please—“
“if you breathe now, and we can talk tomorrow.”
it was almost humorous how he immediately straightened up, red, watery eyes wide, nose red and cheeks flushed from the alcohol. you sighed, reaching over to wipe his tears away, and he let out a pathetic whine, immediately leaning into your touch. you finally helped him up, forcing him to brush his teeth before you opened the door, quietly leading him into his room.
inside, he immediately flopped into bed, tired, sad eyes staring up at you. “you’ll… talk to me, right? please, baby?”
“tomorrow,” you murmured, throwing him a pair of shorts. “just sleep now, okay?”
he nodded frantically, eyes shutting quickly, obediently.
no one would believe this was the version of sukuna ryomen you knew— now when everyone else got the loud, short-tempered, rude, asshole version of him. you stared at him softly, watching his breathe even out, eyes fluttering shut, before you sighed softly, and stepped out of his room.
the next morning, you woke up to sukuna in front of your door, hair messy and eyes exhausted, yet holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite coffee, the other messily trying to adjust his shirt to look more presentable. the second you opened your door, eyes sleepy and hair messily, lips pulled into a frown, he froze.
red eyes widened softly before his body relaxed, eyes softening, and breathed out slowly. “…hi.”
you reluctantly opened the door wider, letting him in. he stepped in, 6’4 solid figure suddenly seeming small, gently setting the items down, hands that are used to throwing punches leaning down to carefully adjust a delicate petal before he straightened up, eyes falling back on you, so full of unsaid emotions that they were already glossing over.
after a few seconds, he swallowed harshly, throat bobbing before he took a step closer. “i missed you.”
you frowned, eyes narrowing. “why did you break up, sukuna?”
“please,” he choked out the second the name escaped your lips, eyes wide in pure devastation. “please, angel. ryo, kuna, baby, pretty boy— anything but that.”
your frown deepened. he let out a defeated, shaky breath, and stepped even closer. “i broke it because i was a fucking idiot. i… i never loved someone so much, angel, i never cared about someone so much. you made me the happiest person alive, and… i knew you deserved better.”
you froze. he sniffled, taking another step closer, eyes desperately and voice breaking. “angel, i… i’m a selfish, possessive asshole, and you deserve someone perfect. i was so scared that you’ll wake up one day and end it, so i… just did.”
your vision clouded with tears, and he dropped to his knees, eyes wet with unshed tears. “i was a stupid, fucking idiot. i should have stayed, talked to you, got the reassurance i know my angel would give me, but i didn’t want to be selfish… i thought i was doing what’s best for you…”
he let his head drop, face falling to press against your abdomen, a loud, pained whimper escaping him. “turns out i was a fucking idiot for ever considering letting you go. i… i have been miserable, angel, bawled my fucking eyes out an embarrassing amount of times. i miss you so much, baby, i can’t— i can’t live with you. i can’t sleep, eat, breathe,” he gasped, hands trembling as they slowly reached to hold into your waist, and let out a louder sob once his fingers touched your body, tears soaking your shirt. “i need you in my life, angel. please, i can’t live without you. my heart only exists to beat for you. i was a fucking moron to ever think about letting you go. you deserve so much better— and i promise, ‘ll be better. i’ll be a better boyfriend, a better partner, a better everything— just, give me a chance,”
you sniffled. the second you did, his head snapped up, eyes wide and tearful and horrified, and he immediately shot to his feet, ignoring his own soaked face as gentle fingers slowly cupped your cheek, wiping your tears away. “please don’t cry, i can’t handle you being upset, please—“
“you idiot.” you finally whispered. he froze, eyes wide and pained, and you only stepped closer, letting your head drop into his chest. his arms immediately wrapped around you, pulling you until no space existed between you both. “are you stupid?”
“i am. i’m sorry, baby,” he whispered back. “i’m so sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m—“
“shut up.” you croaked out. “you’re an idiot. i love you as you are, you asshole.”
“i know, baby. i’m sorry.” he buried his face into your neck, his tears damping your shirt once more. “i’m never leaving you again, angel. not even physically— i’ll be so clingy you’ll get sick of me. i can’t live without you, i’m sorry, i’m sorry.”
you let him hold you, eyes shut tiredly. “…idiot.”
he let out a sharp laugh, holding you even tighter, pressing wet kisses all over your face until a smile broke on your pretty lips, and you could physically feel him finally breathing normally, still pressing kisses to your face, gentle and needy and desperate. “i know, angel. only an idiot would ever walk away from you. never, ever again. i love you. never, ever again. i’ll marry you, my love. never leaving you again.”
a/n i hate tumblr i had to write this three times </3 anyways hi ^^ still obsessed w these headers…
Thank you so much to @kroskimk for another video submission! ...Given that this Devilgram takes place *before* MC finds themselves whisked away to the Devildom, this is some pretty damn early Dialuci "SUBTEXT."
...I'm screaming. Analysis in tags.
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AsmoBaby: Beel's an A-Clas...
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*party venue, cheers and applause sounding*
Asmo: *gasps in delight, smiling wide* Ooh, Lucifer! Take a look at that! Those girls over there are hitting on Beel!
Lucifer: *blank and disinterested* So what?
Beel: …
Beel: …
Asmo: *smile fades into confusion* Wait a minute. The girls... They left...
Lucifer: *nods absently* Right, whatever Asmo. Now, hurry up and take those mixed nuts over to him.
Asmo: *nods back with a smile* Okay.
*fade for Asmo to approach Beel*
Asmo: *smiles cheerfully* Here you go, Beel. Sorry for the wait.
Beel: *shoulders slump with pained relief* That took forever. I was dying here.
Asmo: *giggles conspiratorially* So, what were you talking about with those girls just now?
Beel: *munch* *munch* They came over to ask me if they could sit here and drink with me, but I let them know that there were plenty of open tables over that way. *much* *munch*
Asmo: *shakes head with a perplexed gasp* What?! I can’t believe it!
Beel: *munch* *munch* *munch*
Asmo: Don’t tell me that you didn’t realize that they were trying to flirt with you?!
Beel: *munch* *munch* …?
Asmo: Oh my... So you really didn’t realize…? *sighs despondently, expression pained with sympathy* Those poor girls... If they’d only come over to talk to me instead of Mr. Antisocial here, I would’ve made sure that they had the night of their dreams. *pouts* That succubus had a pretty nice derriere.
Lucifer: *chuckles with a fond, teasing smirk* I think they were interested in Beel because he doesn’t chase after every girl he sees.
Asmo: *whines, poutily shaking head* Lucifer! That’s so meeean... It almost sounds like you’re suggesting that I chase after every girl I see.
Asmo: Anyway, I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Beel is popular with the ladies. He’s my little brother, after all. *smiles fondly* He’s not here today, but I’ve heard a rumour that Belphie is actually pretty popular as well.
Lucifer: *glances to the side with a sigh* Hmm. It would seem that our youngest brothers aren’t the only ones who attract a female following.
Asmo: Huh?
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DDSimeon: Everyone's so di...
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Mammon: *hands on hips with his relaxed, lopsided smirk, laughing* …
Satan: *hums thoughtfully* …
Levi: *shifts weight with hunched shoulders, peeking out from under fringe with shy discomfort* …
Asmo: *perks up with a wide-eyed gasp of shock* Wow...you’re right. All three of them are surrounded by girls! I have to say though, I’m surprised that even Levi came. Usually when you invite him someplace like this, he turns you down before you can even get the words out.
Beel: *nods* Mammon convinced him to come out by lying to him. He said that they were having TSL Night here...a Tale of the Seven Lords fan event.
Asmo: *sighs sympathetically* The poor thing. Just look at the way Levi’s frowning. He looks so tense. He’s always been bad in social situations, and now with all of those sexy succubi hovering around trying to seduce him, he looks like his head is about to explode.
Beel: *shakes head, expression worried* He’ll probably keep himself holed up in his room for a good long while after tonight.
Lucifer: *chuckles with a smile* Asmo, what do you say you go and help your poor older brother deal with all of this unwanted attention?
Asmo: *hums with a nod* Well, I suppose I could do that, but I can’t help thinking it really is strange... Levi’s attracting the mature and conservative types, Mammon, the sassy and outgoing types, and Satan, the smart and thoughtful types.
Lucifer: *hums thoughtfully* Well, it’s only natural. Considering each one of them is so different.
Asmo: *perks up with a giggle* Well sure, but I attract every type! 🩷
Beel: *sighs, brows drawing together judgmentally* You should learn to be a little more selective.
Lucifer: *nods dryly* Yes. I completely agree.
Asmo: *scoffs, scowling defensively* Ugh, I swear, you two are no fun! And I do have preferences, you know. It’s not like I don’t care. *perks up again with a cheerful, musical hum* I suppose you could say I attract people who I have something in common with? You know, good-looking people. That’s who tend to flock to me.
Asmo: Also, I’m someone who has a lot of love to give. I’m overflowing with it! *beams* I feel like as long as I have so much love to give, I should be fair and give everyone an equal share!
Lucifer: *hums doubtfully, expression of deeply disappointed (and defeated) exasperation* You know, you almost sound like an angel right now. Until one considers the context, that is.
––––––––
Lucifer: I don't recall ma...
––––––––
Asmo: *smiles sweetly* Well, what about you, Lucifer? You have a lot of female fans. Even among us brothers, you must rank near the top.
Lucifer: *hums vaguely, arms crossed* Oh, I don’t know...perhaps?
Beel: *nods* You’re so popular, and yet no one comes up to talk to you.
Lucifer: *looks away with a short, testy sigh, clearly uncomfortable* True. I don’t remember ever having person after person come up to flirt with me like the rest of you.
Asmo: *hums thoughtfully, confused* Huh. I wonder why...
Beel: *casual, matter-of-fact* Because Lucifer’s only interested in Lord Diavolo.
Lucifer: *immediately looks back to scowl furiously, shaking head with a pissy growl* ...Don’t make it sound weird.
Asmo: *bursts out laughing, grinning wide* Ooh, yes! I know what you mean! *beaming happily* You can’t flirt with someone when you know their heart will always belong to someone else, can you?
Beel: *smiles warmly for the first time in this whole Devilgram* Nope, you sure can’t.
Lucifer: *glowering darkly* Now hold on a second...
(Helpful dialogue highlight courtesy of our esteemed submitter)
Beel: *looks down with a sulky pout* I want to learn how to be like Lucifer. I want to keep people from approaching me, too.
(^ Beel really did just cut Lucifer off to say "Anyway, now that we've firmly established that as the truth,")
Lucifer: *steaming so hard he could cook up a batch of dumplings for the whole party* Don’t make it sound like I’ve got some sort of magic barrier around me that repels people, Beel.
(The permanent reproachful scowl doesn't help bbg)
Lucifer: *grimly (desperately) changes the subject* Now then...Beel, how’s your team been doing lately?
Beel: *smiles* We’ve had a few people leave and a few join, but things have been going really—
Asmo: *shakes head with noise of protest* Whoa whoa whoa whoa! I’m not going to let you two just change the subject like that! *smiles* We almost never talk about stuff like this. Let’s not stop now!
Beel: Stuff like what?
Asmo: *giggles, heart sparkles* About how popular we are with the ladies, of course! What else?!
––––––––
Beelzeburger: So this is h...
––––––––
Asmo: So, tell me, out of us brothers, who do you two think is the most popular?
Lucifer: *shakes head with a resigned sigh* I’d say we’re all about equal there.
Beel: ...Maybe Belphie?
Asmo: *hums triumphantly, smile beaming* Oh no no no. You want to know what makes my Devilgram account go crazy? What makes the likes roll in? *grinning, happy sparkles* Posting pictures of you two, that’s what! Posting pictures of you two, that’s what!
Lucifer: *brows draw together with a reluctant sigh* What sort of pictures have you been posting, exactly?
Beel: *straightens with wide-eyed concern* Not to mention without our permission.
Asmo: *giggles* Heheh, sorryyy! But don’t worry. I haven’t posted anything embarrassing! *beams cheerfully* Since I get so many likes when I post pictures of you, I’ve started doing it more and more, you know? Also, we need people to like their student council officers. And to do that, I need to provide a little fan service, don’t I?
Asmo: So, with that said, let’s take a selfie! Come on you two, come closer! Don’t be shy! Now...pose for the camera!
*flash of white, camera shutter*
Asmo: *giggles in delight* Good, that came out well! Now I’ll prove to you two just how popular you are!
Asmo: Okay, let me just upload it to Devilgram... There!
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!*
Asmo: See, take a look at that. Impressive, huh? I’ve only just posted it, and already the likes are pouring in.
Beel: *expression falls into a pout of discomfort* I guess it is pretty impressive, yeah...
Lucifer: I must say, it’s odd.
Asmo: *giggles in delight* Hehehe, so...there’s your proof that people are interested in us.
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!*
Asmo: *hums in musical triumph* Because as you can see, we’re getting a lot of comments, too!
Asmo: Just to read a few, we have...“Beautiful!” “Excellent!” “What a perfect trio!” “Asmo is so CUTE!” “I want to meet Asmo IRL!” “More pictures of Asmo!” “Asmo I love you love you looooove you!
Asmo: *startles with sheer, wide-eyed shock of realization* Wait a minute. An awful lot of these seem to be about me, now don’t they? Which means that based on the evidence we have here… *wiggles with a triumphant hum, beaming heart sparkles* ...I guess that out of all of us, I’m actually the most popular?
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!*
Lucifer: *shakes head in resigned exasperation* This was your plan from the beginning, wasn’t it? You only wanted to say that.
Beel: *nods seriously* I’m not surprised a lot of people are commenting about you, Asmo. It’s your account...
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!*
Asmo: *giggling to himself, beaming with pride* Hehehe!
––––––––
Text chat: Giga Shark vs. Ultra Shark (from 345(3))
Thank you so much to @kroskimk for another video submission! ...Given that this Devilgram takes place *before* MC finds themselves whisked away to the Devildom, this is some pretty damn early Dialuci "SUBTEXT."
...I'm screaming. Analysis in tags.
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AsmoBaby: Beel's an A-Clas...
––––––––––––––––
*party venue, cheers and applause sounding*
Asmo: *gasps in delight, smiling wide* Ooh, Lucifer! Take a look at that! Those girls over there are hitting on Beel!
Lucifer: *blank and disinterested* So what?
Beel: …
Beel: …
Asmo: *smile fades into confusion* Wait a minute. The girls... They left...
Lucifer: *nods absently* Right, whatever Asmo. Now, hurry up and take those mixed nuts over to him.
Asmo: *nods back with a smile* Okay.
*fade for Asmo to approach Beel*
Asmo: *smiles cheerfully* Here you go, Beel. Sorry for the wait.
Beel: *shoulders slump with pained relief* That took forever. I was dying here.
Asmo: *giggles conspiratorially* So, what were you talking about with those girls just now?
Beel: *munch* *munch* They came over to ask me if they could sit here and drink with me, but I let them know that there were plenty of open tables over that way. *much* *munch*
Asmo: *shakes head with a perplexed gasp* What?! I can’t believe it!
Beel: *munch* *munch* *munch*
Asmo: Don’t tell me that you didn’t realize that they were trying to flirt with you?!
Beel: *munch* *munch* …?
Asmo: Oh my... So you really didn’t realize…? *sighs despondently, expression pained with sympathy* Those poor girls... If they’d only come over to talk to me instead of Mr. Antisocial here, I would’ve made sure that they had the night of their dreams. *pouts* That succubus had a pretty nice derriere.
Lucifer: *chuckles with a fond, teasing smirk* I think they were interested in Beel because he doesn’t chase after every girl he sees.
Asmo: *whines, poutily shaking head* Lucifer! That’s so meeean... It almost sounds like you’re suggesting that I chase after every girl I see.
Asmo: Anyway, I guess it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Beel is popular with the ladies. He’s my little brother, after all. *smiles fondly* He’s not here today, but I’ve heard a rumour that Belphie is actually pretty popular as well.
Lucifer: *glances to the side with a sigh* Hmm. It would seem that our youngest brothers aren’t the only ones who attract a female following.
Asmo: Huh?
––––––––
DDSimeon: Everyone's so di...
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Mammon: *hands on hips with his relaxed, lopsided smirk, laughing* …
Satan: *hums thoughtfully* …
Levi: *shifts weight with hunched shoulders, peeking out from under fringe with shy discomfort* …
Asmo: *perks up with a wide-eyed gasp of shock* Wow...you’re right. All three of them are surrounded by girls! I have to say though, I’m surprised that even Levi came. Usually when you invite him someplace like this, he turns you down before you can even get the words out.
Beel: *nods* Mammon convinced him to come out by lying to him. He said that they were having TSL Night here...a Tale of the Seven Lords fan event.
Asmo: *sighs sympathetically* The poor thing. Just look at the way Levi’s frowning. He looks so tense. He’s always been bad in social situations, and now with all of those sexy succubi hovering around trying to seduce him, he looks like his head is about to explode.
Beel: *shakes head, expression worried* He’ll probably keep himself holed up in his room for a good long while after tonight.
Lucifer: *chuckles with a smile* Asmo, what do you say you go and help your poor older brother deal with all of this unwanted attention?
Asmo: *hums with a nod* Well, I suppose I could do that, but I can’t help thinking it really is strange... Levi’s attracting the mature and conservative types, Mammon, the sassy and outgoing types, and Satan, the smart and thoughtful types.
Lucifer: *hums thoughtfully* Well, it’s only natural. Considering each one of them is so different.
Asmo: *perks up with a giggle* Well sure, but I attract every type! 🩷
Beel: *sighs, brows drawing together judgmentally* You should learn to be a little more selective.
Lucifer: *nods dryly* Yes. I completely agree.
Asmo: *scoffs, scowling defensively* Ugh, I swear, you two are no fun! And I do have preferences, you know. It’s not like I don’t care. *perks up again with a cheerful, musical hum* I suppose you could say I attract people who I have something in common with? You know, good-looking people. That’s who tend to flock to me.
Asmo: Also, I’m someone who has a lot of love to give. I’m overflowing with it! *beams* I feel like as long as I have so much love to give, I should be fair and give everyone an equal share!
Lucifer: *hums doubtfully, expression of deeply disappointed (and defeated) exasperation* You know, you almost sound like an angel right now. Until one considers the context, that is.
––––––––
Lucifer: I don't recall ma...
––––––––
Asmo: *smiles sweetly* Well, what about you, Lucifer? You have a lot of female fans. Even among us brothers, you must rank near the top.
Lucifer: *hums vaguely, arms crossed* Oh, I don’t know...perhaps?
Beel: *nods* You’re so popular, and yet no one comes up to talk to you.
Lucifer: *looks away with a short, testy sigh, clearly uncomfortable* True. I don’t remember ever having person after person come up to flirt with me like the rest of you.
Asmo: *hums thoughtfully, confused* Huh. I wonder why...
Beel: *casual, matter-of-fact* Because Lucifer’s only interested in Lord Diavolo.
Lucifer: *immediately looks back to scowl furiously, shaking head with a pissy growl* ...Don’t make it sound weird.
Asmo: *bursts out laughing, grinning wide* Ooh, yes! I know what you mean! *beaming happily* You can’t flirt with someone when you know their heart will always belong to someone else, can you?
Beel: *smiles warmly for the first time in this whole Devilgram* Nope, you sure can’t.
Lucifer: *glowering darkly* Now hold on a second...
(Helpful dialogue highlight courtesy of our esteemed submitter)
Beel: *looks down with a sulky pout* I want to learn how to be like Lucifer. I want to keep people from approaching me, too.
(^ Beel really did just cut Lucifer off to say "Anyway, now that we've firmly established that as the truth,")
Lucifer: *steaming so hard he could cook up a batch of dumplings for the whole party* Don’t make it sound like I’ve got some sort of magic barrier around me that repels people, Beel.
(The permanent reproachful scowl doesn't help bbg)
Lucifer: *grimly (desperately) changes the subject* Now then...Beel, how’s your team been doing lately?
Beel: *smiles* We’ve had a few people leave and a few join, but things have been going really—
Asmo: *shakes head with noise of protest* Whoa whoa whoa whoa! I’m not going to let you two just change the subject like that! *smiles* We almost never talk about stuff like this. Let’s not stop now!
Beel: Stuff like what?
Asmo: *giggles, heart sparkles* About how popular we are with the ladies, of course! What else?!
––––––––
Beelzeburger: So this is h...
––––––––
Asmo: So, tell me, out of us brothers, who do you two think is the most popular?
Lucifer: *shakes head with a resigned sigh* I’d say we’re all about equal there.
Beel: ...Maybe Belphie?
Asmo: *hums triumphantly, smile beaming* Oh no no no. You want to know what makes my Devilgram account go crazy? What makes the likes roll in? *grinning, happy sparkles* Posting pictures of you two, that’s what! Posting pictures of you two, that’s what!
Lucifer: *brows draw together with a reluctant sigh* What sort of pictures have you been posting, exactly?
Beel: *straightens with wide-eyed concern* Not to mention without our permission.
Asmo: *giggles* Heheh, sorryyy! But don’t worry. I haven’t posted anything embarrassing! *beams cheerfully* Since I get so many likes when I post pictures of you, I’ve started doing it more and more, you know? Also, we need people to like their student council officers. And to do that, I need to provide a little fan service, don’t I?
Asmo: So, with that said, let’s take a selfie! Come on you two, come closer! Don’t be shy! Now...pose for the camera!
*flash of white, camera shutter*
Asmo: *giggles in delight* Good, that came out well! Now I’ll prove to you two just how popular you are!
Asmo: Okay, let me just upload it to Devilgram... There!
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!*
Asmo: See, take a look at that. Impressive, huh? I’ve only just posted it, and already the likes are pouring in.
Beel: *expression falls into a pout of discomfort* I guess it is pretty impressive, yeah...
Lucifer: I must say, it’s odd.
Asmo: *giggles in delight* Hehehe, so...there’s your proof that people are interested in us.
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!*
Asmo: *hums in musical triumph* Because as you can see, we’re getting a lot of comments, too!
Asmo: Just to read a few, we have...“Beautiful!” “Excellent!” “What a perfect trio!” “Asmo is so CUTE!” “I want to meet Asmo IRL!” “More pictures of Asmo!” “Asmo I love you love you looooove you!
Asmo: *startles with sheer, wide-eyed shock of realization* Wait a minute. An awful lot of these seem to be about me, now don’t they? Which means that based on the evidence we have here… *wiggles with a triumphant hum, beaming heart sparkles* ...I guess that out of all of us, I’m actually the most popular?
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!*
Lucifer: *shakes head in resigned exasperation* This was your plan from the beginning, wasn’t it? You only wanted to say that.
Beel: *nods seriously* I’m not surprised a lot of people are commenting about you, Asmo. It’s your account...
*ding ding ding ding ding ding ding!*
Asmo: *giggling to himself, beaming with pride* Hehehe!
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Text chat: Giga Shark vs. Ultra Shark (from 345(3))
Is there any atla fics where the reader is kinda travelling with the boomeraang squad and the fic is just about their daily lives? i feel like this would be such a cute idea or maybe im still stuck at my wattpad era
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Avatar of Lust, the cute, narcissistic party boy who's always ready to get ~sexy~. But contrary to popular belief, Asmodeus isn't just all smiles, beauty, partying, and sex. He does love these things, but there is something much more wicked underneath.
(This contains spoilers up to lesson 53)
He is, after all, a demon. In the beginning of the game, he doesn't care much for MC and treats them quite coldly, if he bothers to even pay them any attention at all. He finds it boring that Lucifer didn't end up torturing or killing MC after the incident with the grimoire - because to him, it's much more fun if someone is dying.
It's safe to assume that this is actually who Asmodeus is when he's interacting with people other than his brothers. After all, the sides we see of all the brothers are only facets of them, and specifically the sides of them that they normally only show to those closest to them--their family. Their behaviors and attitudes towards MC become an exception to how they would otherwise act.
It isn't until he realizes the power MC has that he becomes interested. Realizing that they have incredible power, Asmodeus becomes interested in them, but in a way that suggests he thinks of them as a plaything. He's curious to find out where this will go, more than being interested in MC as a person. He pokes and prods at MC's body like a doll, commenting on their finger lengths and even examining their teeth. It's very much "Where is that magic hiding? Where is it? Where are you keeping it?", not a "I'm sexually interested in you" kind of action. He even says so outright.
Over the course of the first arc, Asmodeus does grow closer with MC (as do all the brothers), but again -- that's a side that most people do not have a privilege of seeing, because unlike MC, others are not living with them in their home, seeing them interact with each other. They can fuck around and mess with each other because all of them are siblings, and all of them are the most powerful in the Devildom. Others wouldn't dare act that way towards them. Even Diavolo and Barbatos, who are both extremely powerful in their own right, don't act as familiar with the brothers because they're not part of that family dynamic.
We do get a flash again of Asmodeus' anger and colder side when MC and Beelzebub return to the House of Lamentation after Belphegor gets taken by Barbatos and Diavolo. He's hurt by what he sees as MC's deception--having an ulterior motive for making pacts with all of them--and he doesn't just threaten MC for it, but is downright cruel in the gory, dispassionate details as he reminds them just what he could do to them. This isn't the kind of cute annoyed anger that he shows to his brothers, but the real sadism that he would show to anyone else, to an outsider.
For all the jokes and portrayal of Asmo not wanting to get his hands dirty, the reality is he will get his hands dirty when it suits him. He'll get his hands dirty if it's something that he thinks is fun or if he's truly angry. And he'll laugh as he does it.
The outside world knows him as a powerful demon who is incredibly dangerous. His charming ability is referenced as being more powerful than any other demon. In other words, he can hypnotize and control (almost) anyone he wants, including his Very Powerful brothers (and he does, for fun).
Asmodeus acts upset at being called "wicked" and "evil", but it's clear that is how others see him as he is a demon. (This is really just him being dramatic as he recounts his first meeting with Solomon, because when Barbatos mentions "Well, you are a demon", he goes "Well, yeah .... anyway").
So, okay then, Asmodeus isn't all smiles and partying. But what about his narcissism? What about the flirting? That's just him being fun and silly, right?
NOPE. The narcissism isn't just a fun silly personality trait he's always had, it's a direct inversion of his defining trait as an angel, which was loving everyone.
By contrast, demon Asmodeus loves himself, and only himself. He's no longer focused on the good he sees in everyone else, and it has instead been turned inwards to self-adoration.
Where he once flirted with people out of genuine affection and admiration, his flirting as a demon is a twisted version of that where it's not about the other person at all. He might flirt because he wants the other person, or because it makes him more popular, but it's all about himself now. He's obsessed with himself, with having everyone's attention on him and what makes himself happy, regardless of the cost to others. This narcissism is directly tied to him being a demon.
On that note, Asmodeus is the Avatar of Lust, one of the seven deadly sins. However, what lust actually means in that context is not sex, but desire, whether that's satisfying his own desires or creating desire in others. Asmodeus is always wanting the new hot thing, both just because he wants it but also wants to make others want and desire it. Unlike Beel who wants to eat the hot new food item, Asmodeus wants it to take a photo and attract others to it. He always wants that great shot for Devilgram, to pull his fans in and implant desire in them. He doesn't actually care that much once he has whatever coveted item (or person). The joy is in trying to get what he wants.
So yes, Asmodeus does partake in partying and beauty and sex and fun ... but he is also a powerful and dangerous demon.
Beel (Bloodshed) evolution date story is just- OmG 🥲😭
I love whenever PB shows that Beel’s usual unserious attitude is mostly just a defence mechanism against his profound care for his people and his deep sorrow for all that he’s lost.
It’s great whenever they expand on known facts to add character depth. Funerals aren’t festive in Abyssos just because the populace likes parties. They’re like that since Beel actively encouraged it because he didn’t want his people to be overwhelmed by grief due to his death.
I also really like how much emotional intelligence the MC shows throughout this story.
This whole interaction is just perfect. You can feel it in your bones how special MC is to Beel.
Ahhh Beel.. my heart…
This was a great date story. Lore, angst, and heartfelt affection: *Chef’s Kiss*.
Okay let’s check out Beel’s pirate card prologue. It’s sure to be a fun time.
Hmmmm seems a little serious for the unserious card art.
Wait- why is there angst in Beel’s silly blowjob card?!?
STOP! You’re going to make me cry!!!!
Reminder that Beel is not just a carefree guy. He laments those he’s lost, while actively hiding that fact from everybody, lest his grief be used against him.
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OKAY I JUST WATCHED THE VENOM MOVIES and ong symbrock is currently my new hyperfixation wtfff I NEED HEADCANNONS I NEED FICS FLUFF I REFUSE TO THINK VENOM HAD DIED
we all saw that post credits scene of the cockroach thats def venom haha the cockroach is black and its hinted by paine in the movies that cockroaches are hard to kill and had lived for 280 million years THATS WHAT YOU CALL GOOD FORSHADOWING HAHAHAAHAHAHAH (i say as they drag me back to the white padded room)
BUT ANYWAYSSS ive been itching to read symbrock fics and found one on ao3 THATS RLY ANGSTY perfect for me so im leaving the link here to ensure i never forget
ALSO IM DOWN FOR ANY NEW FIC RECOMMENDATIONS pls
https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372016
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Thinking about Knuckles’ trouble adjusting from warrioring to being a family son with two younger brothers. His anxiety around now protecting someone else, combined with his inability to sleep on a comfortable soft bed leads to him sleeping under people’s beds to both ‘protect’ and be comfortable in his own way.
