#and then he wakes up and his son is dead

[inthiskingdomwewillendure]

The Two Towers in 4k

[quadrantadvisor]

Thinking about DP x DC Jason Todd being a revenant again. Here's my scenario. Jason gets called that by some ghost. He's like "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He's heard the term before but he doesn't know any actual lore. He googles it. He scrolls past the Leonardo DiCaprio bear movie. He opens the wiki. Sees the words "animated corpse" and gets a chill diwn his spine. He starts reading the first section.

He closes Wikipedia.

That night he has a nightmare that his family buried him, again, this time with precautions. He wakes up in his own grave, full of stones, too heavy to move, to scream.

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Jason, after coming back to Gotham and taking over the criminal underworld— is burnt out.

He’s exhausted, he can’t sleep, he’s pretty sure he broke some ribs somewhere along the two month mark of being the Red Hood and he just wants to go home.

So he does, entering the Cave near deliriously while Batman and Robin are out on patrol, shattering the stupid memorial he comes across while he’s at it, and— huh, well, that actually looks like a pretty comfy spot to take a nap. He’s just gonna— one minute. He just needs one… minute…..

When Bruce and Tim return to the Cave it’s to a dead boy passed out in the shattered remains of the memorial case, wrapped up in the tattered cape Bruce pulled from the rubble in Ethiopia.

[userautumn]

Everyone on the other side of the fandom is so busy trying to own the BTs to realize that we haven't had a really GOOD Buddie scene since Season 6.

[eikichi-supremacy]

ik ppl hate fictional deadbeat moms but im an avid enjoyer. my feminism knows no bounds truly/j

like i get it she did a bad job. but shit she still did a job that's for sure!! like. she did it do you understand. 14 year old girl is pregnant. it's disgraceful. a shameful stain on her family. yusuke doesn't seem to have grandparents or anything so besides yusuke's bio dad she's got no one. and then when yusuke is a toddler the father disappears and considering who he is and what he's like that's probably for the best. gonna go out a limb and say that yusuke was maybe 4 or 5 when his dad cleared out so. at 18 and entirely alone. atsuko looked down at this little thing. this baby because he's still a baby to her this is a baby who only has her. Not even 4 feet tall with the biggest brown eyes looking to her for everything because he quite literally has no one else.

he doesn't know she's a failure yet. he doesn't know people will look down on them just because he exists as he is. he doesn't know how hard this is going to be from now on. all he knows is he loves his momma

so she doesn't cry. she just meets his big innocent eyes and goes "it's just you and me kid" and yusuke doesn't know that that's a sad thing.

so she takes care of him the best she can and it still sucks but yusuke doesn't know what the standard she should be held to is yet. for a small time she is the greatest and best person in his world and he's the only one who thinks so

then he meets keiko and her parents and finds out that his normal is actually dysfunctional and that his mom actually isn't all that great. that living day to day in the bottom of a bottle isn't healthy. so she's no longer praiseworthy but this person he's responsible for. just like that the roles reverse. because while she was all yusuke had yusuke is also all atsuko has. he doesn't respect her but he still punched the motherfucker in the mouth that called her a tramp. she taught him how to do it.

atsuko comes to terms with the fact that Yusuke doesn't really need her anymore, probably never did so she doesn't bother to care when he skips school or beats whoever he wants to a pulp or gambles because at 14 she was expecting so what the fuck can she really say about him. he sneers at her as he makes her coffee. atsuko lights another cigarette

it feels like betrayal when her son dies. at 14 she had him so how can he die at a sorry age like that. i wasted my teenage years on you for what? so you can die and leave me here? you fucking brat. how can she recover from this? yusuke was all she had. he hadn't looked up at her with an admiring gaze since he was 7 and stopped hugging her goodbye soon after but still he was hers he was hers and then he was gone

but then he comes back. and she doesn't get much better as a mom or as a person really. she tries harder than before maybe (keeping him in school) but yusuke never expected her to. he's made up of her bad habits and uncaring attitude but he's so much better than her. became something good something strong despite how shitty of a job she did raising him.

she's not proud because she has no right to be but something like it tugs in her chest when she sees him feeding the people he cares about at his little ramen cart looking as happy as the first time she'd taken him out to park.

yusuke's dad suggests taking another crack at the whole family thing and she wants to laugh in his face. the only family she'll ever have is that little boy who's stronger and braver than she'll ever be.

she doesn't want to see him laying cold in a casket ever again. he's meant for life, a soul as bright and durable as his. atsuko hopes he lives to see the sun explode

[fantasybooksandtealeaves]

do you ever think about how the same hands that held Megumi's as he walked to school, comforted him when he cried because he thought he would be abandoned over and over again, stroked his hair as he slept, saved him from a life of poverty and fear, packed his lunches, bought him birthday and christmas gifts, hoisted him up on strong shoulders when he was too tired or stubborn to walk, carried him to bed when he dozed off on the couch and provided the only sense of stability, security and love from an adult he ever had were the same hands he saw his own body rip apart.

because I think about it a lot.

[wildsaltair]

today’s topic for discussion: what on earth did Maximus’ soldiers think when they found out he was “dead”? like, their beloved general who fights like a god and is adored by everyone is just… deceased? kicked the bucket? gone on to a better place?

and what did Quintus even tell them to make it believable?? that Maximus died in his sleep of the same “natural causes” Marcus Aurelius died of??? he had an accident with his sword???? he wandered into the forest and never came back?? like what could you possibly tell Maximus’ men that they would believe??

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Fanfic idea: Nocturna, after disappearing during the crisis, wakes up to find herself in the current universe, where she spots the Red Hood, and can't help but compare him to the blood night sky she last saw, and oddly, the young Robin whom she had tried to adopt

[theoakleafpancake]

She’s the sky that holds the clouds

She’s the lady of our house

We all need her

But no one more than me

[Image ID: A close up of Lief from the shoulders up. Sharn’s hand is cupped around his right cheek, a gold bracelet dangling from her wrist. Her hand is pale. Lief is looking in front of him in her direction, tears forming in his eyes. His teeth are bared. He has brown skin and hazel eyes, and dark brown curly hair falls just below his face. He is wearing his Toran cloak and a grey shirt underneath. Scars from the Masked Ones incident are still healing on his face. The background behind him is varying shades purple with lighter-colored cracks along the canvas. /End ID]

One of my favorite things about Deltora Quest is Lief’s relationship with Sharn. She has been constant through his life since the start of the story. When Endon died, she was there to help him. She’s like a mother to Jasmine, one of Doom’s closet friends. She is strong and undeterred. When the Grey Guards tried to get her to give up her son she fought back even in chains. She would die for him.

And just imagine the pain she went through when she had to send him away on this harrowing trip that he might not return from. Her son, and she sent him to all the dangerous places in the world without being able to give him any further information. And then seeing him have to step to the throne without his father’s guidance, to lead the people and fix the mistakes of his father and his ancestors. And then he had to leave again to an unknown world in the second series. All the while, he’s lying to the girl he loves and Sharn can do not very little to help him. He’s been trying to push everyone away to protect them. Sharn understands this, but others do not. Once again, she watched him go with little reassurance he would return.

Three times this happened. Each time, he did return, with a heavier burden. When he returns for the third time, she isn’t lucid enough to see him. When she finally does see him, he’s changed, like the other two times. This time, he bears horrible scars all across his face that will forever be there. Sharn might have not put those scars there, but there is nothing she can do to wipe them away. Not this time.

All throughout this, Lief has had to put on this front with most people. Sure, Jasmine and Barda are there with him through it all, but there are some things he simply cannot tell them. Like the fake belt, or the crystal. And there are things that he can tell them, but they might not fully understand. Sharn was once a Queen, and she is his mother. She survived where his father did not. And every time he returns from his journeys, she is there to greet him.

Except for the third time. She is sick and dying and he feels helpless to protect her. He saves her, realizes that he was wrong, and then is told that no, he was right to begin with. So she is alive and awake. A horrible threat is posed towards their people, but his mother is alive. And when he finally gets a moment alone with her, he suddenly realizes just how close he was to losing her, too.

[detective-piplup]

thinking about brian aurum again guys. also like beware the tags genuinely this time he has a bad time

[gaza-giving-tree]

Imagine waking up in the dead of night to the terrified screams of your child. You quickly turn on your phone's flashlight to find your son's face covered in blood. The source of the injury is even more terrifying: rats have gnawed through the fragile walls of the tent you call home, and viciously attacked your son, causing severe injury to his face.

This isn't just a story. This is the nightmare that Hossam Al-Qazzaz and his family lived, just a few short days ago.

@hananqazzaz @hossamqazzaz12

Story written by @visionsofaselfmademan

The past year of Hossam Al-Qazzaz’s life has been one of unimaginable hardship and resilience. Forced to flee their home in Gaza, Hossam and his family returned to find nothing but rubble—everything they had worked for destroyed. With no other option, they pitched a small, humble tent over the ruins of their house, hoping to create some semblance of shelter amidst the devastation.

Life in this fragile tent is a daily battle for survival. Bombings persist, food and water are scarce, and the safety they once knew is a distant memory. One terrifying night, Hossam’s son Bashar was attacked by rats that invaded their tent, leaving him injured and crying for help. Unable to afford medical treatment or secure a proper tent to shield his young children, including a 4-month-old baby, Hossam now faces a dire reality: how to protect his family from illness, hunger, and the constant threats of their surroundings.

Hossam’s plea is simple yet urgent—he hopes to treat his son Bashar, find a safer tent for his family, and ensure his children can sleep without fear of rats or stray animals. Every donation, no matter how small, can help Hossam rebuild a safer life for his family. Your support could provide the relief they so desperately need and bring hope to a family struggling to survive in unimaginable conditions.

Help Hassan secure safety, medical care, and the bare essentials his family needs to endure this crisis.

Please consider donating to Hossam’s GoFundMe, [HERE].

This campaign has been vetted by @gazavetters and is (#287) on their list of verified campaigns.

[stealthetrees]

Time travel au where all the Jedi wake up in Attack of the Clones after dying. The ones that died sooner just walk it off like it’s a weird dream. Everyone who died in order 66 is confused but maybe it’s a vision? Most of the inquisitors either panic or run to the nearest mind healer and burst into tears or trauma dump. Caleb Dume/Kanan is absolutely convinced he’s dead and this is the after life and no one can convince him otherwise. Obi-wan Kenobi sees smol Anakin and goes ‘shit just keeps happening huh’.

Ashoka Tano is disturbingly wise and knowledgeable for a youngling. Cal Kestis jumps up from class, yells “not today satan” stabs his crechemaster and jumps out the window (he thinks he got caught by the empire and drugged or something), he steals a ship and makes it all the way to Bogano and picks up BD-1 before Cordova find him getting his ass beat by local wildlife and drags him back to Coruscant. Cere is doing her best to comfort Jaro Tapal but he’s not reassured that Cal jumps out of windows all the time.

Plo Koon and Shaak Ti are scheming to get their sons back. Anakin is busy having a breakdown. Grogu just keeps asking for his Buir. Yoda, always ready for drama, let’s Caleb tell him all about his life and his family, asks what his padawan would want him to do. Caleb thinks about this for a minute and nods to himself. He builds a pipe bomb and duct tapes it to the bottom of Palpatines chair. And steals all the credits stashed in his desk.

[marimbles]

my favorite thing about zagreus is that he’s the ultra-cool prince of the underworld, son of the god of the dead, skilled warrior protégé of Achilles himself, tall dark and handsome, completely shredded, with the dopest heterochromia ever, leaving sparks in his wake while he struts around like he owns the place (cause he kind of sort of does). BUT he’s also the most pitiful, disaster-level idiot in the underworld.

He got fired from his nepo job for being lazy and unfit for office work. Whenever he talks to the worker shades in the admin office they all roll their eyes at him. despite his elite training he can only progress toward the surface with endless redos and the constant help of every Olympian AND Cthnonic god. his room is a dump. he’s absolutely terrible at playing the lyre. His outfit is designed after his dog. He is sopping wet from his last dip in the pool of Styx 100% of the time, and every time he fails at escaping the whole house can see his walk of shame while Hypnos loudly makes fun of him for dying AGAIN. And all of this is magnified 10x if you’re bad at the game. incredible story design.

Zagreus’s initial inadequacy makes for an even more compelling narrative that feels extra rewarding with each level of progression. And this is all reflected so well in his attitude as a character. He’s such a fascinating mix of brazen confidence and good-natured humility. He may seem like an entitled brat on the outside but he’s incredibly heartfelt and generous to those around him—not just to those of similar status but also to the nervous housekeeper and his angry ex and the trapped souls he comes across in his journeys. he goes out of his way to help people even while he is trying to reach his own goal. and he never gives up, even when it seems impossible. his repeated failures just serve to emphasize his greatest strengths: resilience, determination, hope, and genuine care for the people in his life.

what a character, man. what a game ✊

[mariamlovesyou]

tuned into Plestia's live with Rahma Zein's second account (she got shadowbanned). key moments:

plestia talked about her adjustment to living in australia. "it's 1:30am now and it's normal for me and many palestinians who live abroad to be awake hours into the morning. i am scared of sleeping. because of the time difference, i'm scared if i sleep i will wake up to bad news. in gaza i was scared of the sound of the bombs, here i am scared of the quiet."

contacting family and friends in gaza is near impossible. "sometimes i feel like a crazy person, calling 20 times in a row hoping that on the 21st time the call might go through."

on the destruction of entire communities and neighbourhoods: "i'm scared when i go back to gaza i won't recognise it anymore. someone sent me a picture of my neighbourhood, and i couldn't tell it was mine at first. all my favourite places, cafes where the aunties used to give me extra food and ask about my day, have been destroyed. i dread looking at my gallery or seeing snapchat memories because most of these people in the pictures are no longer alive."

rahma asked plestia to talk about one story that stuck with her. plestia said "i remember walking one time on the 'safe corridor', that's what they called it anyway, and i saw an older woman clutching onto a donkey cart where her son's body was, refusing to let go of it. i asked my colleague what the smell was, he said it's dead bodies under the rubble. it was the first time i familiarised myself with the smell. the son's body was decaying and the woman told me about cats and animals eating away at it. i've had children talk to me about birds eating away at their parents' decomposing bodies and not being able to chase them away."

"it seems so silly to go to hospitals for minor sicknesses now. i can't even think about how many palestinian children are going to be terrified of hospitals now. there was a girl who was taken to the hospital to get treatment for injuries by one of the bombs, and while she was in the bathroom another bomb landed nearby. the impact from that sent the ceiling crashing down on her.. she got another injury while getting treated for her first one."

"i hate how people talk about our resilience - as if it's okay that this is happening to us. we are only surviving because we have to, because we have no other choice."

rahma brought up the way family homes are set up in palestine and asked plestia to elaborate. "basically, there are floors. someone will live on the ground floor, and then their married son lives with his children on the floor above them, and then their successors above them and so on. so when family homes are targeted, they wipe out entire families. many families officially no longer exist."

"i used to wear my journalist helmet and vest all the time, felt naked without it, even slept with the vest on sometimes until i realised it only made me more of a target. they didn't give me any protection, only headaches and back pain."

"i am an optimistic person, i loved covering sweet sentimental things, like at my graduation asking parents of top graduates how they feel about their children graduating. that's what i love reporting on. i wanted to cover things like that when i came back to gaza, show the beautiful side of gaza that the media didn't really show, but i didn't have the chance." "do you think they'll give you right of return?" "i can only hope."

plestia mentioned how hard it was being a journalist with limited access to the internet, charging facilities, no mics, lack of equipment and how difficult it was uploading things. rahma asked her what's one story that wasn't really recorded or posted due to these constraints; plestia said "the evacuations. sometimes they informed us about them, sometimes they didn't. you have no idea how hard it was, everyone looking for their family members, making sure every one was there, taking to the streets in 5 minutes and not knowing which way to go. i remember i went to my friend's house for shelter for 30 minutes before the first evacuation was announced and we ran to another family's house, stayed there for 2 days before another evacuation was announced. me, my friend, and that family all evacuated together to another family's house. there were already so many people there seeking shelter, it wasn't just one family staying there. none of us knew how long we had in any place."

before october 7th, palestinians were used to limitations on electricity. plestia used to plan her day's tasks around when the electricity was working. "for example when the electricity was on from 12 to 4, i would say i will do my laundry and charge the phones during this time. life wasn't exactly 'normal', but all of us pray to have those days back in comparison to what we are experiencing now." plestia also said that cars are running on cooking oil now because there is no fuel.

on hygiene: "many pregnant women have to give birth without any pain medication or medical attention. once we ran out of medicine, that was it. women who had to get C-sections couldn't stay to recover or get followup treatments because someone else needed the bed. we have no water, no tissues, no pads, barely any bathrooms. in the shelter schools you have to wait an hour before even getting to use the bathroom because of how many people are there."

"something you don't hear about is how many people die because of sadness. there's so many ways to die in gaza, because of the bombardment, because of starvation, the lack of resources, but i also know many elderly people who died because their hearts couldn't take it anymore. i have been in gaza before and lived through 4 aggressions, but nothing compared to this one."

a recurring sentiment that was echoed in the video: "sometimes i thought to myself: who am i recording this for? because we've already shown everything, we've already talked about everything. everything has already been said, the proof is everywhere, nothing i talked about today is new." rahma said the first video posted about what's happening in palestine should've been enough.

she is 22 today. plestia's closing words: don't stop talking about us, don't stop boycotting, don't stop protesting, please don't get bored of fighting for palestine.

[amortxt]

⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀𖥻⠀ㅤ⠀﹫⠀toji⠀fushiguro.

ㅤㅤⓘㅤㅤfluff, reader and toji have an estab relationship + reader is mamaguro. not proof-read so excuse any issues ^_^.

toji had conked out on the couch after promising you and your son a movie night. you have to give him props, he made it through the first 44 minutes and that was honestly a new record. your son giggled as you dragged the sharpie across his face, drawing all sorts of silly things on the man.

"mama, i wanna draw somethin'!" megumi tugged at your top, trying to get your attention. you took him on your lap and he uncapped the bright blue sharpie and went straight for his dads arm.

he drew an assortment of flowers and clouds. a little landscape on his fathers muscles. you couldn't hold it in and just burst out with laughter, megumi following suit.

it was all the more funnier hearing his snores, knowing he was dead asleep whilst his beloved son and wife drew atrocities ( little hearts and sparkles) all over his exposed skin.

"he looks beautiful, mama." megumi looked at you with bright, happy eyes. you took him into an embrace and squeezed him, cuteness aggression flooding you. you squealed and he groaned, and you both fell on top of your husband, successfully waking him up.

you two both looked at him with wide eyes and a dropped mouth. he made a lopsided, tired smile at you as he brought his untouched hand to rub his eyes. megumi made a cheeky smile back at him and you pursed your lips.

toji grumbled and yawned, still tired and just slightly humoured with his wife and son's antics. if only he had known the full picture. (pun intended). "whatcha lookin' at me like that for?"

"nothin' baby. you just look so pretty." the smile that was plastered on your face was incredulous. you couldn't wipe it off. not when your monster-hunk, tough guy of a man had bright sharpie and sparkly glitter all over his face and body. poor guy was probably still too tired to even notice it. you'd almost feel bad.

almost.

megumi could barely hold in his chortle and just let it all out. toji looked at him funny and you shrugged it off. kids. he seemed satisfied with your answer. and you made a loving grin.

you turned off the TV and sent toji off to bed, megumi holding your index finger and dragging you to his bedroom so you could go and tuck him in.

as you were sitting on megumi's bed, he began to chat. "mama.?" "yes sweetie?" "can i draw on you too?"

you looked at him and chewed the inside of your cheek. "uhm.. oh i don't know about that…"

"i do." you turned around you to see the hulking shadow the loomed at the doorway. you stared with eyes that seemed less serious when there was pink marker around them. in his hand he held some other permanent markers. all bright and all glittery. he had a strangely dangerous smirk on his face.

"and you're gettin' it tonight, ma."

⠀ㅤ⠀⠀©⠀all work written by ﹫amortxt. do not repost.

[heich0e]

sukuna likes a lot of things about you.

he likes the perfume you wear, and how recently his sheets have started smelling a bit like you even on the nights you don't spend in his bed. he likes the sound of your voice when you first wake up and how you're fairly slow to rise, so you tend to walk around first thing in the morning a little groggy and disoriented. he likes that you're intelligent—far more intelligent than someone like him deserves—but that you're also clever and quick witted. he likes that you're gentle but can still be headstrong, and aren't afraid to talk back to him sometimes. he likes how well you get along with his nephew. he likes how much his family likes you.

he does not, however, like what you just said to him.

"did you just say... my brother... is hot?"

you blink at him, seemingly taken aback by his horrified tone.

"no," you say with a little shake of your head, but sukuna has no opportunity to feel any sort of relief about the miscommunication. "i said he's kinda sexy."

sukuna feels every artery, vein, and capillary in his circulatory system throb in the wake of your words, and it's as close to a miracle as a man like him can hope for that he doesn't drop dead where he stands from the pure shock of it. his eye twitches at the corner as he continues processing what you've said, his gaze sliding from your blithe expression to his older brother on the other side of the apartment.

jin is in the kitchen with yuuji, washing up the last few plates from dinner. his six-year-old son had just soaked him with the spray nozzle on the sink a few seconds prior, and the two of them laugh together while jin uses the hem of his ugly knit sweater to wipe his face. he'd taken his glasses off after the unexpected drenching, and his damp hair is slicked back from where he ran his hands through it.

sukuna looks back at you, and finds your attention had followed his own into the kitchen. you're watching jin and yuuji interact with a little smile on your face.

sukuna snaps.

in what feels like the blink of an eye, the man scoops you up in one arm—tossing you over his shoulder as effortlessly as he might a half-empty bag of rice—and snatches up your nearby coats with the other before spinning abruptly on his heel towards the door.

"sukuna!" you gasp, calling his name shrilly as you beat your fist weakly against his back. "put me down!"

the spectacle unfolding in the living room draws yuuji and jin's attention towards it, watching in confusion as sukuna stomps in the direction of the genkan.

"ji-chan!" yuuji calls out in dismay, hopping down off the little red step stool he uses to reach the sink and running after him. "where're you going?"

"home," sukuna grunts out tersely, still clutching you in his grasp as you squirm, stuffing his feet into his shoes in the genkan and grabbing yours with the hand not pinning you in place. he keeps his back to his nephew as he reaches for the door.

"but why?" yuuji asks, a lilt of sadness in his little voice.

"sukuna..." jin laughs awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen, just behind his son, trying to diffuse the situation at hand—the situation he doesn't even properly understand himself.

"papa," yuuji starts to warble, his voice pitching up and breaking sadly in the middle of his cry of protest. "ji-chan's stealing my friend!"

sukuna freezes. you stop squirming.

it goes quiet for a moment.

there's a bit of shuffling and a sound of exertion as, sukuna assumes, jin scoops his crying son up into his arms.

"it's okay, yuuji," you say forcing a gentle, comforting tone. sukuna feels your hands press against his back, and assumes you've propped yourself up so you can meet his nephew's teary gaze. "i'm not feeling very good, so ji-chan's gonna take me home now, is that okay?"

yuuji sniffles a little. "you don't feel good?"

"no," you tell him, "i'm feeling a bit sick."

"are your legs sick?" yuuji asks after considering your words, a bit less distraught than before but still sniffly. "is that why ji-chan has to carry you?"

sukuna feels your fingers twist into the back of his t-shirt.

you hum in agreement to the little boy's question, but the sound is notably strained.

yuuji sighs. "it's a good thing ji-chan's so strong."

"well, say goodnight, yuuji," jin—clearly a bit bewildered—cuts into the conversation as sukuna opens up the apartment door.

"goodniiiiiight!" yuuji calls to sukuna's retreating frame. "make sure you don't drop my friend, ji-chan!"

the door swings closed behind you both with a final dull thud.

the two of you are halfway down the sidewalk outside of jin and yuuji's apartment, still draped over sukuna's shoulder as he carries you, before either of you says anything. you're the first to speak.

"if you don't put me down i'm gonna start screaming," you say, and your voice is shockingly even considering the circumstances.

"you wouldn't," sukuna grunts dismissively.

"i absolutely would," you reply, and sukuna pauses in his stride when he hears the sincerity in your voice.

he just stands there for a moment, in the middle of the sidewalk, the quiet residential street thankfully deserted at this time of evening. he hesitates for a moment, wondering just how loud of a scream you'd be able to muster, and just how quickly it might draw a crowd on a street this silent.

he sighs, the sound resentful and defeated all at once.

"shoes," you order.

sukuna sets your shoes down on the ground, making sure they land upright.

"me, next."

carefully, sukuna lowers you down to the ground, holding you up long enough for you to navigate your feet into your waiting shoes. once both have safely been slipped on, he releases his hold on you and steps back. you turn to him with your expression pinched in irritation, your arms crossing over your chest.

"so, what was that about?" you ask him with an eyebrow raised.

"i'm takin' you home," he replies flatly.

"why?"

sukuna stares down at you, his arms crossing over his own chest to mirror your defensive stance. "you're lucky i'm not taking you to the hospital to get your head checked out after you called my lameass dweeb brother sexy."

you let out a long, world-weary breath, lifting a hand to your face and holding it over your eyes. sukuna just watches you, still pissed off but slowly regaining his senses as the cold evening air bites at his burning cheeks.

"you are..." you pause momentarily, spreading your fingers so you can glare at him weakly. "an idiot."

sukuna's jaw clenches. "you're the one lusting after a four-eyed old man who cries during kids movies."

"i'm never said i was lusting after anyone," you say, letting your hand drop to your side in exasperation. "i said he looked kinda sexy with his hair pushed back because he reminded me of you!"

there's a long, excruciating moment of silence that stretches out for miles between you.

sukuna... must have missed that part.

"oh."

"yeah," you bite back. "oh."

sukuna looks up at the streetlight overhead, if only as an excuse to avert his gaze from your withering stare. he squints his eyes like he's straining to see something far away.

"guess i might've... overreacted a bit."

"a bit," you repeat flatly.

a strong breeze rushes past, rustling the leaves on the trees that line the street and sending a shiver through you. sukuna looks down again, watching as you clasp your arms across your chest for warmth, and wordlessly takes his jacket off his arm to wrap it around your shoulders.

"i've got my own coat," you mutter sullenly as sukuna tugs the two sides of his jacket closed around you like a cocoon. you burrow your face down into the collar in spite of your words.

"you don't want mine?" sukuna counters, knowing fully well how much you like it when he puts his coat on you—and very much using it to his own advantage.

you purse your lips, the tips of your fingers appearing from inside the jacket to clutch sides of the zipper, pulling the garment protectively around your frame. "i never said that, either."

sukuna laughs, rolling his eyes.

"you owe your nephew an apology," you tell him. "we were supposed to read a new book tonight."

"yeah, yeah," sukuna says, waving his hand dismissively. it's of little concern to him, at this point. the kid's not particularly hard to make it up to; it'll only take a couple of chocolates and a trip to the park before the incident is forgotten entirely.

might be a little harder to clear it up with his older brother, though.

"jin faints when he gets needles, you know," sukuna tells you, his tone shockingly serious. "he only uses kids shampoo because he hates when it gets in his eyes and likes the fact it smells like strawberries. and he got so scared in a test of courage in high school that he pissed himself."

you look at your him with a look of absolute shock on your face.

"why are you telling me this?" you ask him incredulously.

sukuna leans down in your space, practically nose to nose with you, his expression stern.

"him and i share DNA—we're gonna look alike, and I can't do anythin' about it," sukuna says, something boyishly petulant in his tone. "i'm making sure you never think of that loser as being anything even remotely close to sexy ever again."

sukuna watches from up close as your expression shifts, a glimmer of mirth swirling in your gaze underneath the glow of the streetlight overhead.

"you really are an idiot," you breathe, half-way to a laugh, the sound is entirely too fond to have any of the bite you may have hoped.

sukuna smirks, shrugging indifferently. "he got the brains, i got the looks."

"he got the personality, too," you add pointedly.

sukuna leans forward, a hand slipping behind your back to pull you close, slotting his mouth to yours in a slow, searing kiss. as your lips part to welcome him, your head tipping back, he feels your grip on the jacket around your frame slacken. when your fingers twist into the material of his shirt to pull him closer, he grins triumphantly into the kiss.

pulling away, he revels in the slightly dazed look on your face. at the sheen of his spit spread across your lips. at the faint smell of your perfume that will cling to his coat just like it does to his bedsheets back at home.

"oh well," sukuna breathes, blissfully indifferent, leaning in close to kiss you again. and on the quiet street outside his brother's apartment, wrapped in his coat against the evening chill, you let him.

it doesn't matter what his brother has, sukuna decides, because he's got something much, much better.