#and difficulty is subjective i guess

[foxstens]

honestly i feel like people greatly exaggerate the difficulty of this game

[planetaryupscaled]

The Bed We Made

Male Reader x Teyeon x Winter

Tags: 18k, smut, creampie, dubcon, incest, oral, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

It’s not often you meet a mother who is as good-looking as her daughter or the rest of the family for that matter.

-

Groaning and moaning is all i heard as I passed the guest bedroom where my cousin Chaewon had been. ‘It’s nice to see someone is having fun’ I said to myself as I walked down the hall past my sister's bedroom. Now I close my ear. Shit, I don't want to hear what happens inside there.

I didn't like Minjeong boyfriend, that's no secret. But I’d learned a long time ago to stay out of her love life. That guy was an asshole. I couldn’t hide my feeling on him, not from her, but I remained silent on the subject. I was sure Minjeong would figure it out eventually and for the time being, at least he was a good-looking asshole that seemed to make her happy.

I moved on once again toward my own room. Chaewon’s brother Sojun was there with his new girlfriend Juhyeon. He was using my room because the only other bedroom available was my mom’s and neither Minjeong nor I thought it right that he and his girlfriend sleep there. I got mom’s bed since I was the one who stupidly broke up with his girlfriend the week before.

“I really could have timed it better,” I mumbled to myself.

Minjeong and I had started planning this night from the moment mom told us that she was going out of town on business. I was twenty and going to college. Minjeong was twenty-three and already working. She still lived home while she saved up for a place.

Mom was pretty old fashioned and didn’t let the people we were dating sleep over. She was a typical mother. She liked to think of us still as kids. It would have been cute if it weren’t so annoying.

I stopped in front of my bedroom door and listened. I forgot to get a pair of sweats to sleep in out of my closet before Sojun and Juhyeon disappeared into my room. I didn’t hear anything, so I opened the door gently. I glanced at my bed and saw that they were asleep.

They were naked. My eyebrows rose in appreciation when I saw Juhyeon. I had to give him credit. I’d thought she was cute when I met her earlier, but now I realized that Juhyeon was a lot more than that. She was hot, and had a very nice body. I shook my head and looked away.

The sweat pants were easily reachable and I got them as quietly as I could. I was making my escape when I stubbed my toe. I cursed as quietly as I could.

“Are you okay?” I heard Juhyeon ask. I looked back toward the bed. She had pulled the covers up, but I could still see her curves through the sheets. She saw me looking and smiled.

“Fine,” I replied a little too quickly. “Sorry. I just needed to get something to sleep in.”

“No problem,” she said kindly. “I shouldn’t have a problem going back to sleep. I’m still pretty drunk.”

“Aren’t we all?” I grinned. “We finished almost all the alcohol we bought, and that’s saying something.”

“It was a fun night,” she smiled in return. It was sexy as hell. I looked at her and shook my head as I fought to hide my sudden and intense attraction to her.

“You know, if you do have a problem going back to sleep...” I began, and paused when I realized what I was about to say. What’s wrong with me?

“Yes?” Juhyeon asked with a raised eyebrow. I was tempted, but it wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t the type to try and steal someone’s girl. “You could wake him up. I’m sure he’d appreciate it.”

“You think?” she smiled.

“I know,” I laughed, then glanced at my cousin who seemed almost comatose and added, “Although he seemed wiped out.”

“He is,” she replied, slowly looking at me oddly. “Do you want to fill in for him?” I was stunned. Tonight was the first time I met Juhyeon. She was pretty quiet earlier. I would never have guessed she was like this.

“No,” I replied with some difficulty. “Not that I’m not tempted, you are hot as hell,” I laugh.

“How sweet,” she teased. “Oh, thanks for the complement.”

“You deserve it,” I said, shaking my head.

“If you keep talking like that,” she smiled sexily. “I might not give you the choice.”

“I’d better be going then,” I laughed, but it was very difficult to move.

“Now look what you’ve done?” she asked. “I’m horny again. I guess I’ll have to wake him up.”

“Think you can?” I joked. “He looks passed out.”

“Watch me,” she replied confidently. Juhyeon shocked me again by reaching out and beginning to rub my cousin’s cock through the sheet. She was watching me, obviously enjoy my reaction.

‘Wow!’ I thought. ‘Drunk or not, this girl was definitely something else.

Juhyeon continued to look at me as she worked her mouth. I stood there mesmerized. She had one of the sexiest smiles I’d ever seen. She let the sheet drop slightly and exposed her breasts. I shook my head.

“I don’t suppose you have a sister?” I asked.

“Two,” she grinned. “But the younger one is only eighteen and pretty innocent.”

“And the older one?” I asked.

“You couldn’t handle her,” Juhyeon laughed.

“Maybe not,” I smiled. “But after watching this, I’d sure like to try.”

“Watching what?” she asked huskily, no longer laughing. “You mean this?” And with that Juhyeon pulled the cock from under the sheet and took it into her mouth while her eyes never left mine. I swallowed hard.

“Does he know just how much of a slut you are?” I groaned. My eyes were locked with hers.

“Not yet,” she smiled sexily, “But he’s learning.”

“Are you sure you aren’t willing to introduce me to your sister?” I joke.

“Maybe one day,” she smiled. “Or maybe I’ll let Sojun play with my sister and keep you to myself.”

“Okay,” I laugh. “Are you always like this?”

“Not usually,” she admitted. “But like I said earlier, I’m pretty drunk.”

“So, if you were sober you wouldn’t want to do what you just suggested?”

“Oh, I would want to do it,” she replied. “I just wouldn’t have suggested it, at least not so soon after starting to date Sojun and meeting you.”

“Hah you are something else.” I said, shaking my head.

“Yes, she is,” my cousin said, finally awake.

“Hey lover,” Juhyeon said, smiling at him.

“You two have fun,” I said, shaking my head again and leaving my room.

I went into the bathroom and changed into my sweats. I had to wrestle my cock inside. Juhyeon really got to me. I forced Tried to force myself not to think about it or I’d never get to sleep.

Mom’s room was the biggest and she had a king-sized bed. I shook my head sadly as I looked at it. It was too bad she never shared it with anyone. My father had disappeared right after I was born. I didn’t know him and at this point I never wanted to.

I climbed into bed and closed my eyes. I was tired, but had a hard time going to sleep. I knew what was going on in all of the other bedrooms and I had to admit that I was jealous, and horny as hell. I thought about taking care of myself, but I was in mom’s bed and I just couldn’t do it.

It took me some time to finally relax. That’s when lying in mom’s bed helped. It smelled of her and reminded me of how she used to help me calm down and fall asleep when I was a kid. In fact, mom’s bed was where Minjeong and I used to climb in when we had nightmares. Mom would play with our hair until we fell asleep.

I’m not sure how long I slept before I heard someone enter the room. It was pitch dark and whoever it was didn’t seem to be interested in putting on the light despite stumbling. I couldn’t quite remember what I was dreaming about, but I knew it was sexual. I was disappointed that my sleep was interrupted.

I opened my mouth and almost started to ask what was going on, but I stopped myself when I realized that there was no reason for someone to come in here in the middle of the night. It had to be one of the people sleeping over.

I reviewed who was in the house and a thought came to me. I felt myself stiffen instantly. Could it be? Would she do this?

I thought the answer to both questions obvious. I remembered the way Juhyeon looked at me and what she said. It had to be her. The question was, what should I do about it? She was sneaking into the room I was sleeping in, her intent obvious, but she was my cousin’s girlfriend.

‘Maybe Sojun knows. Maybe they decided to do what she said. Maybe my cousin is going to get Juhyeon’s sister while I get Juhyeon,’ I thought suddenly, but then frowned and added, ‘That’s a hell of a lot of maybes.’

I was still wrestling with myself on what to do when she climbed into bed next to me. All the sexual tension from before returned in full and I reached for her. Juhyeon we were in my mother’s bed, but I was too worked up to think or worry about it anymore. I aggressively pulled her into a kiss before she could say anything. She was naked and tasted strongly of alcohol.

Juhyeon stiffened at first when I kissed her. I guess she was surprised I was awake. She relaxed quickly enough though and ended up being a good kisser despite being drunk. She moaned softly into my mouth as I started rubbing her breasts. She took my cock in her hand and start stroking it like she did with my cousin earlier. It was my turn to moan.

I pulled off my shirt and sweats and dropped them on the floor. We were both obviously beyond the need of foreplay. I rolled on top of her and Juhyeon spread her legs wide. The scent of her excitement spread and despite being ready, I couldn’t stop myself from taking a moment to taste her. My tongue dipped deep into her pussy and she cried out. Juhyeon’s pussy was surprisingly hairy. I liked it.

“Yes! It’s been so long!”

I froze at the words. The voice wasn’t Juhyeon’s! My mind took seconds to function before it could wrap around the truth. I was lying here with my head between my mother’s legs, What the… she was supposed to be out of town!

“Don’t stop!” she cried, using both hands to pull my face against her. I didn’t know what to do. This was wrong, so very wrong!

‘Or is it?’ I suddenly asked myself. I mean, I knew it was wrong, but obviously she liked what I was doing. I loved her and if it brought her pleasure, maybe right and wrong didn’t come into it. Besides, she tasted amazing!

“Please!” she cried. “I’m close!” I tentatively started licking again almost without realizing it. She groaned and pulled my mouth against her even harder. “Whoever you are, you have the nicest tongue!”

‘She must be very drunk,’ I thought. Mom wasn’t the type to drink or sleep around. I knew that. In fact, she’d only moments ago said that it had been a long time. She obviously wasn’t thinking straight right now, but she would in time.

“Oh!” she gasped. “I’m going to cum…” Her pussy became even wetter and the taste overwhelmed me.

I refocused my attention on what I was doing and was quickly rewarded with her cum. She cried out as her orgasm took her. The sound made me smile, almost proudly. No matter what else, I’d given her a moment of ecstasy.

“That was amazing,” she said afterward. I could hear the contentment in her voice, but I also realized that she wanted more. So did I.

‘I can’t feel this way about her, It’s so wrong!’ I thought. Yet, I felt what I felt. ‘No!’

I knew it was time to leave despite my own excitement. The only problem was that she wrapped her hand around my cock and she started stroking it again before I could figure out how to make my escape. A few moments later she kissed me and all thoughts of leaving disappeared.

I was amazed at how excited kissing she made me feel. It didn’t make sense! She was my mother and you didn’t do this with your mother, only I was and it felt incredible. Her tongue danced in my mouth and I moaned. I was lying on my back now and after a few minutes I felt she start to shift on top of me. I knew what she wanted, but I wasn’t ready for that. Not with her!

I pushed her off.

“Men,” she laughed. “You’re all the same. It doesn’t matter how many years have passed.” I didn’t know what she was talking about until she took my cock into her mouth.

‘Holy shit!’ I cried silently. ‘she is giving me a blowjob’ The fact that she was very good at it only made it worse.

I moaned and rested one hand on her head. She didn’t need any direction, but it felt good to have my fingers intertwined with her hair. She wasn’t a full-figured woman, but neither was she skinny in any sense. She went to the gym every night and stayed trim. She said it was because of her job, but I knew that she was proud of her figure.

My orgasm grew close very quickly as she continued to suck my cock like crazy. She also messaged my balls with one hand. It didn’t take long for me to cum in her mouth. She drank it all down.

“I hope you don’t take long to recover,” she said afterward as she rolled onto her back. “I need this. It’s been a very long time and I’ve had a horrible last couple of days.”

I wondered what happened that made them horrible, but there was no way to find out without letting her know who I was. So instead, I kissed her again. She was obviously excited because her tongue danced wildly in my mouth.

“Oh, very nice,” she cried when she felt my cock hardening again. This time she tried to shift me on top of her. I helped despite my uncertainty. She sighed contently when she felt my weight on her and added, “I’m ready.”

The question was, was I? Would I really have sex with her? I knew she needed it and frankly, I was horny as hell, but what would happen tomorrow? How would we deal when we were both sober?

She was rubbing my cock up and down her pussy.

“Please don’t tease me!” she begged, and the next thing I knew I was pushing inside of her. None of my questions or fears had been addressed, but I was beyond caring at the moment.

She was pretty tight, but she was so excited that it didn’t take me long to push all the way in. I didn’t want to think about the only other time I’d been inside her pussy. Instead, I started stroking in and out of her.

“Yes!” she cried. “You’re so big!”

She wrapped her legs around my hips and pulled me deeper. She also raked my back with her nails. It got worse the closer she came to orgasm.

“Nghhgod….” she cried. “I’m cumming!” I was pretty sure she drew blood with her nails.

My own orgasm was still far off. I wanted to bring her pleasure and my own excitement was obvious, but this just wasn’t right. Don’t get me wrong. What we were doing felt amazing and was driving me crazy. I just couldn’t finish, not like this.

She thrashed under me as her orgasm took her. I held her through it and kept my cock pressed as deeply as it would go. It took her surprisingly long time to finish.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding almost as if she were crying. “I really needed that.”

I refused to get off of her or pull out. In fact, it wasn’t long before I started gently moving in and out of her again.

“Again?” she asked in surprise. I pushed in deeper in reply, causing her to moan.

I continued to work her pussy until her excitement grew to the point where she was once again scratching my back. Her pussy was tight, hot and wet. It felt like my cock was an iron-like rod being thrust in and out of a furnace. It was amazing, I wanted to cum inside her, but I knew that there was only one way I’d be able to do that. She needed to know the truth. Could we?

“You are beautiful,” I said, she stopped scratching my back as my words were sinking in past her alcohol filled mind. “I love you.”

“Minho?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes mom,” I answered. “It’s me.”

“No!” she cried and pushed against me wildly. I wouldn’t let her get up, but she spun around and buried herself into the bed. My cock pulled free and I groaned in disappointment.

“Mom, calm down,” I said.

“Get off!” she cried.

“No,” I said, surprising us both. My cock was still hard and wedges between her ass cheeks.

“This is so wrong…” she whimpered.

“It’s already done,” I replied. “And don’t act like didn’t love every minute of it, The bed is soaked.”

“How could you?” she asked.

“I didn’t know it was you at first,” I replied. “What’s your excuse? Just who did you think was in your bed?”

“I didn’t think!” she moaned. “I’m drunk.”

“I know,” I said more gently. “Me too.”

“Minho, please get off of me.” She asked more calmly, but obviously still in shock.

“Mom, we’ve already done the worst we can,” I said. “And it was amazing. I need to cum in you. Please let me.”

“No… Never!” she cried. “You’re my son!”

“I’m also the man whose back you scratched in passion as I drove you to orgasm,” I said.

“We can’t!” she said, but it was obvious she was weakening. I knew that tone of voice. All I needed to do was be patient and I’d get my way. I learned that a long time ago. The only problem was that I couldn’t. I shifted my cock to the entrance of her pussy.

“You wouldn’t,” she cried. I thrust my cock deep. “Stop!”

I ignored her cries, she was now a woman I wanted desperately, needed desperately.

She tried to get out from under me, but I held her in place. She fought harder, but her pussy became wetter with every passing second.

“This is so wrong.” she moaned as she finally stopped fighting and lifted her hips slightly to give me better access. I smiled and pushed in deeper.

“You’re right.” I grunted, and then leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “But that’s not going to stop you from cumming again. Me either.”

“Oh yes…” she groaned. “Cum in me… I want to feel a man fill me again!”

“Even if that man is me?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. She came to her senses and fought briefly once more, but I held her in place until her need took control again. It wasn’t very long. She was too excited to let her sense of right and wrong get in the way. I drove into her over and over again.

“Your cock is so big!” she moaned. “And you’ve found my weakness, just like your father did all those years ago.”

“Weakness?” I asked.

“Don’t make me say it!” she begged between gasps, but oddly, I knew that she wanted me to.

“Tell me,” I demanded. “Tell me your weakness.”

“I won’t!” she cried, suddenly fighting to get out of me again. I held her down and drove into her harder and faster. She suddenly stopped fighting and came. Her orgasm was explosive.

“Yes! Yes! Nghhh…” she moaned.

I was close, but I wasn’t there yet. She thrashed under me violently. It got so bad that my cock popped free of her. I tried to shove it back in, but I missed and ended up pushing against the entrance to her ass.

“Just like your father!” she moaned again as she froze. It took me a moment to realize what she wanted. No way?

“You want me to fuck your ass?” I asked.

“That’s disgusting!” she cried, which wasn’t a denial. I’d never taken a girl’s ass before, but the thought had always interested me. I pressed the head of my cock against the entrance to her ass more firmly. It was surprisingly tight. It didn’t help that she was fighting me once more. She was clenching her ass. I paused. What if she really didn’t want me to?

“Tell me you want me to fuck your ass and I will,” I said.

“Never!” she gasped under me. “I’m a good girl! I would never say something like that!”

“But you want me to, don’t you?” I asked. She didn’t answer. She just fought harder and the truth hit me. “That’s it, isn’t it? You like to think of yourself as normal and wholesome, but the truth is that you’re a slut.”

“I am not!” she cried. “I’m not doing this of my own free will. You’re forcing me!”

“And you love every moment of it.” I said, realizing I was right. “You like being held down. You like being taken. Admit it!”

“Minho, I’m your mother!” she cried in response.

“So?” I asked. “You’re also a woman. Admit it!”

“I can’t!” she cried. I was done talking. I knew the truth even if she wouldn’t say it. Her ass was still clenched. I was tempted to push past her resistance, but I didn’t want to hurt her. So, I shifted down her body.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

I ignored her question and forced her thighs apart. Now her pussy and ass were open to me and only inches from my mouth. I stuck my tongue out and licked her pussy. She moaned and relaxed slightly, but that only lasted until my tongue moved to her ass.

“Minho, no!” she cried. “Not even you father did that!”

“His loss.” I grunted and focused on what I was doing. I also drove two fingers into her pussy and used the thumb of the same hand on her clit. It wasn’t long before she moaned loudly and she relaxed. I worked both her pussy and ass hard and she loved every minute of it.

“This is so wrong…” she finally gasped.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed easily now. I smiled and decided to tease her. “How can you just lay there and let your son have his way with your body? I’m licking you ass, what kind of a mother are you?”

“No!” she cried, and started fighting me again.

I moved up her body and pressed her down against the bed. She continued to fight until my cock pushed into her ass for the first time. She cried out and surprised me by thrusting back to meet me.

“Your ass is so tight…” I whispered in her ear as I continued to force more of my cock inside.

“So much like your father!” she gasped out again. “Only bigger!”

“Kiss me.” I demanded as my cock finally reached into the depth of her ass. Her head turned and she looked at me. The room was pitch black, but I could feel her eyes. “Kiss me. Show me just what kind of a slut you really are.”

I thought she’d start fighting me again, but she surprised me by finding my mouth and thrusting her tongue inside. I moved in and out of her ass slowly as we continued to kiss.

“Minho stop…” she cried after a while and refused to kiss me. I knew what she was trying to tell me. She was ready. She wanted me to fuck her ass hard. She needed to feel me take her.

“We’re not done yet.” I said, thrusting into her ass with more power and propping myself up. “I need to cum, I need to fill your ass.”

“No…” she cried and started fighting me. I held her down roughly and fucked her ass with everything I had. My hips slammed into her meaty ass with every stroke and made a slapping sound that drove me crazy. She liked it too. I could tell.

“I’m getting close,” I groaned after a while. “I want you to cum with me. Play with yourself.”

“No… Good girls don’t do that!” she replied.

I took one of her hands and roughly pushed it under her and between her legs. It threw my rhythm off, but that was fine for a bit. I wanted this to last. I took her hand in mine and made her rub her soaked pussy. She fought, but not a lot and not for long. It was only a few seconds before her fingers blurred on her clit without my direction.

“I can’t believe you’re forcing me to do this!” she cried as her orgasm growing.

“Shut up and just do it.” I demanded. She moaned as I started fucking her ass in earnest again. I was holding her hips now and ramming in and out of her.

“I’m cumming!” I cried as my orgasm hit.

“That’s it baby! Cum in me! Fill my ass!” She cried as her own orgasm hit. I guess in the heat of the moment she forgot she was supposed to be a good girl.

I pumped a huge amount of cum into her ass. My orgasm took me for what felt like minutes. This was the hottest moment of my life. I had to admit I liked the roughness of our sex too. It was something new to me.

“Are you okay?” she asked in what sounded like real concern when I became dead weight on top of her.

“Better than that,” I moaned as I rolled off of her. We lay there in silence for a while, both fighting to catch our breath.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said. I could almost see her shaking her head. She was calmer now.

“I know,” I said, surprising her by pulling her so that her head was resting on my shoulder. It was my turn to comfort her by playing with her hair.

“I feel so guilty,” she added.

“Don’t,” I replied. “If anyone should feel guilty it’s me. I did force myself on you.”

“We both know that’s not true,” she sighed.

“Yes it is,” I insisted. “And the truth is that I liked it. I liked it a lot. And don’t you dare say I’m so much like my father again!”

“But you are,” she said. “But only in the ways I like. You’re not the type of guy to run out on his family.”

“No, I’m not,” I agreed vehemently.

“And you are a lot bigger where it counts,” she added. She was obviously trying to defuse my anger at my father. It would always be there, but she was right. This wasn’t the time of place.

“Thanks,” I said. “Knowing that helps.”

“Men!” she laughed.

“So, why did you come home early?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Ugh,” she stareted. “I had to quit my job. My boss tried to force himself on me while we were away, and not in the way I like.”

“That asshole!” I snapped, ignoring her attempt at humor. “I’ll...”

“Do nothing,” she said in that tone all mothers used. “He was my problem and I took care of him. You will stay away from him.”

“Okay,” I said, but it was too quick and she knew.

“Minho, I’m serious,” she said. “He hit on me all trip and it came to a head when we were at a presentation. Someone was up on stage giving a talk and my boss and I were sitting with the rest of the audience. He grabbed my leg under the table and tried to reach higher.”

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I dumped a glass of water over his head,” she said in satisfaction. “We were in front of most of his clients. It will cost him more than you think.”

“Should’ve sued him,” I said.

“I might,” she replied. “But that’s not a conversation for tonight.”

“Tomorrow then,” I said.

“Well see,” she said, and then changed the subject. “By the way, why aren’t you sleeping in your bed?”

“Sojun and Chaewon came over,” I said nervously. It was weird really. Only a few minutes ago I was in control, holding her down and taking her roughly to both of our enjoyment, but here I was afraid to tell her that we’d had a small party while she was out.

“You and Minjeong had a party, didn’t you?” she guessed.

“Just Sojun and Chaewon,” I said, but then added guiltily. “And Changho, Gyumin and Sojun’s new girlfriend Juhyeon. I thought you were her.”

“You thought I was your cousin’s girlfriend and you jumped me?” she asked.

“Well, she did climb into the bed I was sleeping in,” I said defensively. “Besides, you’d have to meet her to understand. She’s a bit wild.”

“So,” she sighed. “What you’re trying to tell me is that my daughter, nephew and niece are all in the other bedrooms with their significant others having sex?”

“I doubt they’re still at it,” I shrugged. She surprised me by laughing.

“You just better hope your uncle never finds out,” she said when her laughed died down. “He would completely lose it.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “You seem to be handling it pretty well.”

“I’m not my brother,” she replied. “And after what we just did, I don’t have any moral high ground to stand on for the moment.”

“Well, that’s true,” I laughed.

“Minho, it’s not funny,” she sighed. “I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but that isn’t going to help tomorrow when we have to face what it means.”

“You know,” I said thoughtfully. “I like when you talk to me like this.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like a woman,” I replied. “Don’t get me wrong. I love you and appreciate everything you did for Minjeong and me growing up, but we’re adult now. Besides, I never realized just how hot you could be before.”

“That’s wrong on so many levels,” she sighed. “I’m your mother. I’m not supposed to be hot, at least not to you. Besides, we both know that you wouldn’t be saying that if the lights were on.”

I reached for the nightstand. She was clearly not expecting it when the light came on. It was soft and dull, but we’d been in completely darkness.

“Minho!” she cried, reaching for the covers. I rolled on top of her and held her in place. “Stop!”

“Relax,” I said. “I just wanted to prove you wrong. You’re just as hot in the light as in the darkness.” She froze and looked up at me. I smiled down at her.

She looked great. I knew that and so did she. She worked hard at keeping herself that way and her curves showed it.

“You know, whatever else I’d say about your boss, he has great taste.”

“Minho, get off of me,” she said, shaking her head, but smiling slightly.

“I would, but I seem to have a problem,” I said with a grin. She frowned briefly in concern, but she saw my grin and quickly realized the truth. The fact that my cock was bumping into her belly probably helped.

“No way.” she cried, but I ignored her and tried to kiss her. She twisted her face to the side and I ended up kissing her neck. I didn’t mind in the least. I worked my way up to her mouth. “Minho, we can’t… not again.”

“I want you.” I said between kisses. “And I want to look into your eyes as you cum.”

“No…” she cried again, louder.

“If you get much louder, you’re bound to get the attention of everyone else in the house. Could you just picture Minjeong’s reaction? Or uncle if one of his kids told him?”

“That’s my point.” She said. this time she kept her voice lower. “We can’t keep on doing this! We’ll get caught eventually and then what?”

“Good point,” I said, but then grinned and shrugged before adding, “But at the moment I could care less. I want you. I’m going to have you and that’s all that matters.”

She looked up into my eyes and saw that I was serious despite my grin. She licked her lips in a way that left me know she wanted it too. That was all I needed to know. I pushed my cock halfway into her pussy with one thrust.

“Stop….” she cried, fighting me once more. “I’m your mother…”

“You’re a hot woman that I want to make scream.” I growled. Her eyes got bigger as I thrust the rest of my cock inside her. She cried out and wrapped her arms around me. I started stroking in and out of her. Once again, I felt her nails on my back.

“Minho, I thought I raised a good boy.” she gasped as her orgasm neared.

“You did,” I replied. “But no one is good all the time. Not even you,” I said, “Now, be my slut and cum for me.”

“Nghhhyess…” she cried, her body locking up in orgasm. I watched her passion filled expression in awe. She really was beautiful. I’d remember this moment forever. She noticed me watching and added, “Minho cum with me… cum inside me.”

I grunted and let lose. I filled her pussy as she rolled into another orgasm. Our bodies slammed together over and over again until we were both completely spent.

“Tomorrow we’ll deal with the repercussions,” I said, holding her close afterward. “There must be some.”

“I know,” she sighed. She fell silent for a few minutes. I was starting to nod off when she shook her head.

“What?” I asked.

“You do realize that what we’re doing is incest?” she asked.

“Yes,” I admitted. “And you want to know the sick part?”

“What?”

“The knowledge is only making it better,” I answered.

“For me too,” she admitted, almost too softly for me to hear. “And I’m the mother. I should know better.”

“So do I,” I shrugged. “I’m not a kid anymore.” We fell silent for a while.

“So much for being a good girl,” she sighed eventually.

“Hey, we didn’t plan this. It just happened,” I said. “There’s no sense is beating ourselves up after the fact.”

“It has to stop,” she said.

“I agree,” I said.

“And you can’t sleep here tonight,” she added.

“I know,” I said. “I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room. Right after I take a shower.”

“Good,” she said, but I thought I heard a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

“You know mom,” I said innocently. “I bet you could use a shower too, and your bathroom has the nice big walk in one.” She looked at me and smiled slowly.

“Yes, it does,” she said. “I think I’ll use it first. You wait here and don’t you dare come in. It would be wrong!”

I watched her walk to her bathroom and smiled. She was seriously hot. I’d always know it, but it never really registered until now. Watching her ass wiggle as she walked made my cock stir despite my last orgasm.

I waited a few minutes until I heard her in the shower and then went to the door. I turned the knob and it opened. She hadn’t locked the door. I smiled widely and went in.

“Oh Minho. What am I going to do with you?” she asked, hiding a smile. She was standing under the shower as hot the water cascaded down her body. I shook my head as I watched.

“I have a few ideas,” I replied moving toward her.

“Don’t you dare,” she cried. “You can’t come in here!” Yet, I noticed she moved back from the door to give me room.

“We’ll see about that.” I snapped, opening the door and stepping in. I took her into my arms and kissed her roughly as she started fighting me. Oddly enough, despite her resisting me, somehow her hand found my cock and her tongue thrust deep into my mouth. This continued for some time.

“I want your ass again.” I growled when I couldn’t take it any longer.

“No…” she cried, spinning away from me.

She ended up standing on her toes with her hands against one of the shower walls. I looked at her ass and shook my head. It was round and full. My mouth literally watered.

“Please don’t kiss me down there again.” she cried as if to let me know what she wanted.

I dropped to my knees and buried my face between her ass cheeks. She cried out and thrust her ass out further, giving me better access. She was more than ready, but I took my time. Her ass tasted amazing and she clearly like how it felt.

“What are you doing?” she cried as I stood and pushed my cock against the entrance to her ass.

“Taking a good girl and making her my slut.” I whispered.

“No…” she said. I crushed her against the shower wall and shoved my cock deep into her ass and started riding her slowly.

I took her hair and pulled it into a ponytail and moved it to one side, giving me access to the back of her neck. It was pale white because she always wore her hair down. I licked it and she squirmed under me. I kissed it and her squirms became more pronounced.

“What are you doing?” she asked. The answer came without me realizing it.

“Marking what’s mine. Marking my slut.” I growled and started sucking hard on her neck. The mark I would leave wouldn’t be seen by anyone else as long as she wore her hair down, but we’d both know it was there. It was something that would last beyond tonight.

“No…” she moaned, but she pushed her ass back hard against my cock, forcing it in even deeper.

“Yes,” I snapped, pulling back and looking at my handiwork. She was marked, but it wasn’t dark enough. Not yet anyway, I kissed her neck again.

“Minho, you are going to make some girl very happy one day,” she gasped.

“I’d settle for you today,”

“I am happy,” she moaned. “It’s been so long since I had a real man and no one has ever gotten to me like you do.”

“Not even father?” I asked.

“Not even him!” she groaned. I could feel her fingers brush my cock as she played with her pussy. She was getting close. So was I.

I took her hips and started riding her ass hard. She moaned loudly and came. I continued to stroke I and out of her until she was done. After that I pulled out and spun her toward me.

Her eyes flashed hungrily as I pushed down on her shoulders. She dropped to her knees and reached for my cock, but I stopped her. I held her head with one hand at arms distance and pointed my cock at her with the other as I brought myself to orgasm.

“Open your mouth,” I demanded. She did as she continued to watch me hungrily.

The first few ropes sprayed her face and chest. Some of it made it into her mouth. She pushed my hand away and fell on my cock. I grabbed her head with both hands and fucked her mouth until I was done.

“You need to go,” she said once I was able to half focus again.

“You’re mine,” I said, still a little blurred from my lust.

“I remember,” she sighed. “And I am yours… for tonight.”

“For as long as that mark remains,” I said. She shook her head.

“I thought we agreed that this was just for tonight?” she asked.

“It’s the smart thing to do,” I said, standing up. She looked up into my eyes nervously. “But I’m not giving this up. I’m not giving you up.”

“And if I don’t want this to happen again?” she asked.

“I’ll take you against your will,” I shrugged. “And you’ll love it.”

“I know you don’t mean that. You would never force me if I really didn’t want to.”

“Mom,” I sighed, looking at her. “I’m not sure if that’s true with you. You have no idea what you do to me.”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow,” she said. “Go get some sleep.”

“Okay,” I said, but my mind wandered. My concern must have been plain on my face, because she took my chin and made me look into her eyes.

“Minho, don’t worry,” she said with a gently smile. “I know you better than you know yourself. You really wouldn’t force me.”

“I hope you’re right,” I sighed.

“I am,” she said confidently, and then added more softly, “But even if I weren’t it wouldn’t matter. I’ll always want you. I just don’t think it’s the right thing to do.”

“It isn’t,” I agreed, relaxing slightly. “And you’re right. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I kissed her one more time and slipped out of the shower. I dried myself quickly and grabbed my sweats and tee-shirt off the floor in her bedroom. I put them on quickly and took one last look at her bed before leaving. It was rumpled and stained with our pleasure.

It was the same bed I’d gained comfort from when I was a kid. Yet, now it was also something more. It dawned on me that my thoughts described her as well. She was the same person I knew and loved growing up, but now she was something more.

“Hey little brother,” Minjeong said as she flopped down on the couch cushion next to my head with a grin. “What are you doing sleeping out here?”

“Who said anything about sleeping?” I groaned as I sat up. “This couch sucks! I’m exhausted.”

“Weren’t you going to sleep in your mom’s room?” her boyfriend asked.

“That was the plan,” I sighed. “Until she came home.”

“Mom’s home?” Minjeong asked, no longer smiling.

“Yeah,” I replied as I stood and stretched.

“Oh shit!” Changho sigh. “She hates me as it is, and this isn’t going to help.”

I fought off a smile. Mom didn’t hate Changho. She didn’t hate anyone, but then again, he wasn’t her favorite person. Mine either for that matter.

“Does she know about the party?” he asked.

“Of course,she does,” Minjeong said, answering for me.

“Don’t worry,” I said to Minjeong. “I told her it was his idea. You should be okay.” I then turned to Changho and added, “Although, she did say something about wanting to talk to you this morning.”

“What?” he asked nervously.

“Relax,” Minjeong sighed. “Minho is just joking.”

“Very funny!” he said angrily. I shrugged.

“Changho, I think you’d better be going,” Minjeong said. “Mom’s an early riser and I don’t think you want to be here when she gets up.”

“I’m gone,” he said, giving Minjeong a quick kiss and making for the door. I frowned. This guy is annoying.

“Think we should wake up Chaewon and Sojun?” Minjeong asked.

“Probably,” I answered, forgetting about that dumb boyfriend of hers for the moment. “It will give them a chance to prepare.”

“Like you can prepare for one of mom’s lectures,” Minjeong sighed, but then added, “On the other hand, maybe they can slip out too. There’s no reason for everyone to have to face her wrath.”

“I’ll wake them,” I said.

I climbed the stairs quickly as memories of the night before drifted through my head. My hangover was bad and my head throbbed. Thinking was almost painful. I was also exhausted from trying to sleep on the couch.

The last question was the one that concerned me the most. I had no idea how to react, but I figured I’d work through it eventually. On the other hand, I was seriously worried about mom. I was afraid that there was a good chance she wouldn’t handle it at all. And then what?

I pushed open the guest bedroom door and forced the thoughts of the night before out of my head for the moment. Chaewon and her boyfriend Gyumin were asleep in the bed.

“Wake up you two.” I said, shaking the bed. Gyumin didn’t budge, but Chaewon opened her eyes.

“For God’s sake, why?” Chaewon groaned.

“Because my mom’s home,” I replied.

“Aunt? Oh shit!” Chaewon cried, and then started shaking her boyfriend.

I left the room and moved on to my bedroom. I pulled my shirt off as I went. I needed something to get me going. A shower was just the thing. I’d grab some clothes while I woke Sojun and his girl up. Maybe it would help with my hangover.

I threw open the door to find Juhyeon riding my cousin on my bed. The room smelled of sex. Juhyeon looked at me and smiled. I shook my head. She didn’t even pause in what she was doing.

“You two better hurry,” I said. “Because my mom is home and she’s bound to wake up soon.”

“Damn!” Sojun cried and pushed his girl off of him. Juhyeon clearly wanted to finish. I shook my head and went to the dresser.

I grinned to myself, remembering last night when I thought I was going to get a chance to do much more than just look. That hadn’t worked out, but something much different had.

“Minho, what the hell happened to your back?” Sojun cried as he stood and threw on his clothes. Juhyeon did as well, but she was moving slower.

“Looks like someone played with a tigress,” she grinned. It took me a second to realize what they were talking about.

“Yeah,” I said, thinking as quickly as I could. “I met a girl a couple of nights ago. She was wild.”

“She must have been.” Sojun laughed.

“You’d better get going,” I prompted. “Mom will be up soon.”

“Right!” he said.

“I’m right behind you,” Juhyeon said when Sojun looked at her impatiently. He nodded and left. I moved to leave and take my shower, but she stopped me by placing a hand on my shoulder.

“What?” I asked. She was looking at me oddly.

“Those scratches are new,” she said. “There’s no way they happened before last night.”

“No...” I began, but she covered my mouth with her hand briefly to silence my protests.

“Maybe I was wrong,” she smiled sexily. “Maybe you can handle my sister.”

“You’re older sister?” I asked. She nodded, getting very close.

“You must be wilder than Sojun describes,” she said. Juhyeon was so close that if I moved at all our bodies would touch. “Because those scratches are new and I’m the only girl not related to you in the house.”

“That’s- I...” I began, but she covered my mouth with her hand again.

“I know,” she smiled, her eyes burning into mine. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. It also doesn’t mean that it doesn’t get to me… on a purely sexual level.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that. It didn’t matter. Juhyeon removed her hand from my mouth and barely brushed her lips against mine before turning and moving toward the door.

“I’m looking forward to introducing you to my sister,” she said as she left the room. “It’s been a while since she and I double dated.”

I swallowed hard. It was such an innocent statement, but I thought there was more to it. She didn’t seem shocked at all by her discovery that I had an incestuous affair, only enticed.

“I’m sure it will be some double date,” I mumbled to myself, and then thought, ‘I think it’s time Sojun and I had a talk. I want to make sure he knows what Juhyeon is hinting at before I meet her sister.’

The shower felt good. My back stung as the water hit the scratches and I let myself dwell on how I got them for the first time since waking up. If nothing else, they were proof that the night before wasn’t a dream.

“Wow!” I said, shaking my head as the truth tried to sink it.

The whole situation from the night before was impossible, but it had happened. I knew that, and now I’d have to deal with the repercussions. I finished my shower, dried and got dressed. I even took the time to brush my teeth and dry my hair. I almost felt human again by the time I left the bathroom.

I could hear voices being raised downstairs. Mom was obviously awake and it sounded like Minjeong and her were going at it.

When I went to downstair, it was just Mom and Minjeong, and the others were nowhere to be found.

“Let me make you some breakfast before I’m leave,” Mom said, but poor Minjeong looked totally confused.

“What’s up with mom?” Minjeong frowned.

“Ease up on her,” I said softly. “Mom quit her job last night.”

“She what?” Minjeong cried, but then added, “Let me guess. It was her boss, he hit on her, didn’t he?”

“You knew about him?” I asked in surprise.

“No, but I guessed,” Minjeong sighed. “He had jerk written all over him. I’d better go in and make sure she’s alright.”

“Okay, but don’t push her,” I said. “She’ll tell you about it when she’s ready.”

“Minho, mom’s not the only one acting weird today,” Minjeong said, but then thankfully left the room before I could think of how to respond.

I moved on to the guest bedroom and clean it while he was in the shower. It didn’t take long and I had plenty to think about.

“Breakfast!” I heard Minjeong call up the stairs.

The meal ended up being surprisingly good. Mom seemed to be relaxing and I made sure not to do or saying anything to upset her. We were all laughing at one point when the phone rang. Mom picked it up.

-

“This is still my house and I don’t want it becoming party central or where you and Minho have your booty calls.”

“Booty call?” Minjoeng asked in surprise. “Where in the world did you hear that?”

“I’m old, not dead!” mom sighed.

“Who are you and what have you done with my mother?” Minjeong asked.

“Very funny,” mom sighed, glancing my way briefly. I’d intentionally remained quiet. “I guess last night opened my eyes up to a lot of things. It wasn’t just your party and sleep over.”

“I know,” Minjeong said. “Minho told me.”

“Heard what?” mom asked, clearly stunned. I knew what she was thinking.

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I guess I should have let you tell Minjeong that you quit your job.”

“My job?” mom said, shaking her head. “Ah right.”

“Are you okay?” Minjeong asked.

“I will be,” mom answered honestly. “It’s just a lot to take in all at once.”

“Don’t worry mom,” Minjeong said. “Minho and I will help.”

“We’ll be fine,” mom smiled. “I’ve got enough saved before I’ll have another job.”

“I still think you should sue him,” I grumbled. “Or better yet, let me pay him a visit.”

“No.” mom snapped. “I can take of him myself.”

We changed the subject and went back to finishing breakfast.

-

“I’m wiped,” I sighed.

“I guess that means I can’t convince you to help me clean?” Minjeong asked.

“You clean? That’ll never happen. Do you even know how to wash a dish?” I joked.

“Very funny,” Minjeong said. “You jerk.”

Minjeong really wasn’t much of a cleaner. She could do it when she put her mind to it, but that wasn’t very often. I wasn’t much better, but I’d been known to throw a load of laundry on every so often. I even vacuumed upon rare occasions.

“You aren’t serious, are you?” I asked.

“Yes I am,” she replied. “Mom had a tough day.” I frowned and nodded. I was very tired, but she was right. On the other hand, cleaning could wait a little while.

“How about we take a nap first?” I asked. “Mom will be out for a while.”

“Hmm,” Minjeong said thoughtfully. “That does sound good, but I need a shower first.”

“Enjoy,” I shrugged. “Bed time for me.”

Minjeong was first to the stairs. She climbed them and it actually took me a moment to realize I was staring at her ass.

‘Pervert!’ I snapped to myself, but then I shrugged. After what happened with mom, did it really matter? I took a few moments to think about my sister and her appearance. ‘Shit, Minjeong’s pretty hot!’

It wasn’t that I didn’t know what she looked like or that I thought she wasn’t attractive before, but I’d never truly looked at her as a girl. No, that’s not right. I’d never looked at her in a sexual way, and I was now. Fuck.

Minjeong had mom’s blond hair and was built athletically. Her ass was small, but rounded nicely from all the sports she played in high school and college. She was a gym teacher and it showed. Her breasts weren’t nearly as big as moms, but they were still pretty amazing on her tight body.

“What?” Minjeong asked when we reached the top of the stairs. She obviously noticed the attention I was giving her.

“You know,” I said, breaking one of the unspoken rules between us. “You could do a lot better than Changho.” I saw her start to swell up angrily, but then she stopped and sighed, letting out a breath.

“You’re right,” she said, surprising me. “It’s too bad really. He’s handsome and smart.”

“Pretty packaging doesn’t make a good guy,” I said. “And neither does brains. And what’s with the total lack of a sense of humor?”

“Okay little brother, ease off,” she said pointedly. I raised my hands with palm toward her in surrender. Minjeong rolled her eyes and laughed.

I’d learned long ago not to comment on her boyfriends. The fact that she hadn’t jumped all over me when I offered up my opinion about Changho said a lot about how close she was to dumping him already.

“See you in a couple of hours,” I said, entering my room. The clean sheets felt wonderful and I was out almost instantly.

-

I woke up slowly. It took me a few minutes to realize I wasn’t alone in my room. Minjeong had pulled my desk chair out and was sitting in it, facing me. She looked like she’d been there for a while. I looked at her and rubbed my face as I fought to wake up. Whatever was bothering her was bad.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up.

“I couldn’t go to sleep after my shower,” she said. “I was thinking about how to break up with Changho.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered. She shrugged it off and continued.

“So, I decided to start cleaning,” she said. “I couldn’t vacuum with you sleeping so I did laundry instead.”

“Sounds reasonable,” I shrugged, fighting to get my mind fully functioning and wondering where she was going with this conversation.

“There were plenty of sheets to clean, so I started there,” she added, looking at me meaningfully. I still wasn’t processing well enough to follow her yet.

“Okay,” I offered. Minjeong frowned and shook her head before continuing.

“Can you imagine my surprise when I found four sets of dirty sheets instead of just three?” she asked. “Mom typically does laundry on Tuesdays. I was wondering why she stripped her bed this morning.”

‘Shit,’ I thought, finally catching on. ‘Oh shit!’

“So I opened them to see if she dropped something on them that might need special attention,” Minjeong continued. “They were a mess, but not really that much different than any of the other sheets. They were damp and cum stained.”

“Really?” I finally got out, my mind whirling. “I guess it’s true. Even moms need to take care of themselves.”

“Minho, there were fluids from both a woman and a man,” she said angrily. “What happened last night?”

I was tempted to deny everything and play stupid, but Minjeong wouldn’t fall for it, not after she saw my expression when she mentioned what she found. I’m sure I looked guilty as hell and Minjeong could usually read me better than anyone else other than mom.

I was also tempted to tell her that I took care of myself before mom came home and that she must have followed suit afterward, but one look into Minjeong’s eyes and I knew it was pointless, so instead, I told her the truth. It didn’t take very long.

“I can’t believe it,” Minjeong said, shaking her head.

“Honestly, me neither,” I sighed. “It’s not like I planned it.”

“But you didn’t stop it either,” Minjeong said pointedly.

“I was drunk!” I shrugged. “So was she and the truth is that we both needed it.”

“So, last night was the first time?” Minjeong asked.

“Yes,” I answered. We fell silent for what felt like minutes. I had no idea what to say and Minjeong was obviously trying to accept what she learned.

“Did you both enjoy it?” she asked, surprising me.

“I guess,” I answered uncomfortably.

“You guess?” she asked. “That’s it?”

“Okay, fine,” I sighed. “Yes, we both enjoyed it. Hell, it was the best sex I ever had, does that make you feel better?”

“It makes me feel left out,” Minjeong said glumly.

“It’s not like you weren’t busy with Changho,” I said.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” she replied. “Ever since dad died it’s been the three of us together. Now I feel like I’m on my own.”

“Why?” I frowned. “Because mom and I accidentally ended up in the same bed and let our passions get the better of us?”

“Yes,” she shrugged. I knew it was an honest answer even if I didn’t understand it.

“I’m willing to cuddle with you if that will help?” I joked badly.

“If I thought it would help, I might take you up on it,” she sighed. “But I don’t. Besides, I’m not ready for that.”

“Minjeong, you know mom and I love you.” I said.

“Yes,” she smiled, but her eyes were sad. She stood and added, “I think it’s time for a nap of my own.”

I watched her leave the room and shook my head. What could I do to make Minjeong happy? I didn’t want to see her this upset.

‘I’d better let her sleep and see how she feels when it sinks in,’ I thought. ‘Hell, it’s barely sunk in with me.’

Minjeong slept a long time. I let her. I was just thinking about waking her when mom came home. She didn’t look happy.

“My brother can be so...” she began angrily, but I cut her off.

“We have bigger problems,” I interjected. “Minjeong knows.”

“Knows what?” she asked.

“She decided to do the sheets while you were out and I was sleeping,” I said. “She found the ones to your bed.” Mom shook her head almost numbly and sank down on the couch.

“She’s twenty-three and never done a chore without me nagging and today she decides to help?” she said, obviously stunned.

I got up and went to her wine rack. It was the only alcohol left in the house because we made it off limits the night before. I poured us both a glass and handed one to her as I sat down on the couch next to her.

“How did she react?” she asked after downing half her glass.

“Oddly,” I frowned. “She wasn’t so much mad or disgusted as hurt. She feels left out. She thinks we now have something special that she’s not part of.”

“That’s bad,” mom frowned.

“I’m sorry mom,” I sighed. “This is all my fault.”

“Not all,” she said, shaking her head. “If I really wanted you to stop last night, I could have made you, but it just felt so good.”

“Yes, it did.” I said, sipping mine.

We sat there for a while. We didn’t say much, but we did finish the bottle of wine quickly enough. Minjeong came down from her nap as I was opened the second bottle. I saw her frown, but she took the glass I handed her. The three of us looked at each other in silence for a few moments.

“I know it’s been a while,” mom suddenly smiled as a thought came to her. “But I think it’s time for movie night.”

“Movie night?” Minjeong asked in surprise. “Aren’t we a little old for that?”

“That’s a great idea,” I said quickly. “You’re never too old for a movie night.”

Every once in a while, when we were kids, mom used to set up trays in her bedroom. We’d eat and watch television, something she never let us do normally. Afterward, we’d settle onto her bed and watch a movie. Mom always let us stay up late and eat plenty of popcorn and candy. It was just the bonding experience Minjeong needed now.

“Minjeong, you can choose the movie,” mom said. “I’ll order from your favourite restaurant.”

“But...” Minjeong began. It was too late. Mom was already in the kitchen picking up the phone.

“What’s gotten into her?” Minjeong asked.

“I told her what you figured out,” I replied. “She wants you to know that she loves you.”

“You told her?” Minjeong cried.

“I had to,” I shrugged. “Your reaction before was bad.”

“I was tired and hung over!” Minjeong snapped, but I knew there was more to it.

“Just humour mom and go with it. She’s really worried about you,” I sighed, and then added more softly. “So am I.”

“I’m fine,” Minjeong said, a little too quickly.

“Good,” I said. “Then a movie will be fun.”

“I really should go find Changho and break it off,” Minjeong frowned.

“Give him one more night,” I said. “I never liked the guy much, but even he deserves one more night of believing he’s dating one of the hottest girl’s alive.”

“Very funny,” Minjeong sighed.

“Who’s joking?” I replied, but then hit her with a couch pillow before she could respond. It was a short, vicious fight and although I typically won, just this once I let her.

“Will you two cut it out?” mom snapped from the doorway, but she wasn’t really angry. How could she be? Both Minjeong and I were laughing.

“How long until the food is ready?” I asked.

“You have just enough time to put on your shoes and go pick it up,” mom grinned.

“I walked into that one,” I laughed.

“I think I’d better go,” Minjeong sighed. “You two have been drinking.” I started to argue, but mom cut me off when she realized Minjeong was right.

“We’ll have everything ready when you get back,” mom said. I nodded in agreement.

There wasn’t that much to do, but we busied ourselves with getting mom’s room ready. We also continued to drink the wine, only slower now. When the second bottle was gone, we both agreed to hold off on any more until after we ate. We were well on our way to being drunk.

“Minho, stop that.” mom snapped. She was standing at the counter getting the popcorn maker ready for later.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re staring at my ass!”

“I am?” I laughed, walking up behind her. She turned and faced me quickly.

“Don’t you dare…” she says. “Hasn’t what happened already caused enough trouble?”

“Yes,” I sighed. “But you know the old adage. You can’t go back. We have to move on.”

“Agreed,” she said. “And moving on entails never making the same mistake again.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “What happened was wrong, but I wouldn’t exactly call it a mistake.”

“Minho, you can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I am,” I said. “I really liked what happened. So did you.”

“I did not…” mom cried, but we both knew she was lying. “Okay, I was drunk and in need and you took care of it admirable, but it’s wrong.”

“And that makes it even hotter.” I groaned, pulling her into a kiss. she returned the kiss despite her protests, but when it was done she pushed me back with both hands.

“No…” she said. “Tonight is about Minjeong. We hurt her and that’s unacceptable.”

“You’re right,” I said, but then pulled her again. “But Minjeong isn’t here right now and just looking at you is driving me crazy.”

“Minho!” she cried. She spun away from me, but I had her trapped against the counter. I thrust my hard-on against her ass to let her know just how much she was getting to me. “We can’t… There’s no time…”

“I don’t know about that,” I grinned, lifting her skirt up past her ass and pushing her panties down. I was wearing sweats and they dropped past my cock easily enough. She was try to fight, but she thrust out her ass giving me access to what we both wanted. She moaned when I pushed my cock inside her pussy.

“Oh Minho…” she moaned. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I don’t know,” I grinned. “But I do know what you’re going to do for me.”

“There’s no time!” she moaned.

“Then hurry,” I groaned in reply, picking up the pace.

She was leaning over the counter as I fuck her hard. I was just starting to feel my orgasm approaching when I heard the front door open.

“Fuck.” I cried, pulling out quickly.

“No…” she moaned in frustration. “I was so close!”

“Sorry,” I said, meaning it. God, did I mean it?

“Just go stop your sister from coming in here.” she snapped. “If she walks in right now, she’ll know what we were just doing and that wouldn’t be good.”

“Agreed,” I said, pulling my sweats back up. I also pulled my shirt down and let it cover my front. It was the best I could do.

“Mom went crazy,” Minjeong said when she saw me. “There’s more food than we could eat in a week.”

“She’s really looking forward to this,” I said. “Let’s go set the food out upstairs. She’ll join us in a minute.” Minjeong must have sensed something because she looked at me funny. I guess it made sense. Only a few moments before I was stroking in and out of mom. That wasn’t something that was easy to hide, especially considering I had to stop abruptly just before my release.

I tried to focus on looking as innocent as possible, but I wasn’t sure I fooled Minjeong. On the other hands she didn’t say anything as we brought the food upstairs.

It was weird to be back in moms’ room after the night before. Scenes of what happened flashed in my head and they didn’t nothing to help calm down my already surging libido. I went to the bathroom and threw some cold water on my face after the food was set out. It helped.

The meal was delicious and we laughed and watched television during it. It was like old times except for the fact that my eyes lingered on mom overly long upon occasion. She would frown when she noticed until I looked away. I think Minjeong might have noticed once, but she just shook her head and took a sip of her wine.

The movie Minjeong picked was decent for a chick flick. We were all slightly drunk by the time it ended. We’d done a good job of denting mom’s wine collection, but the food balanced it.

“Another movie?” mom asked.

“Sure, why not?” Minjeong smiled. Mom and I exchanged a smile of our own. Minjeong seemed okay.

“Can I choose?” I asked.

“Please…” mom snorted. “I don’t want to watch something gory right now. The food is just settling in.”

“And porn is out too,” Minjeong joked.

“Hey, don’t knock it until you try it,” I teased back.

“And what makes you think I’ve never tried it?” Minjeong asked. She was clearly feeling no pain.

“Minjeong!” mom cried.

“Come on mom,” Minjeong grinned. “Are you telling me you never watched porn?”

“I haven’t,” mom shrugged.

“Wow,” Minjeong laughed. She was obviously drunker than I thought. “I would think in this day and age everyone’s seen porn, or at least a clip. I mean the internet makes it all so available.”

“Not me,” mom shrugged. “I worked with computers all day. Why would I want to be on one at night?”

“Mom, you really need to get a life,” Minjeong sighed.

“That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” I asked in surprise.

“Oh please…” Minjeong said, rolling her eyes. “If mom had one, maybe she wouldn’t have had sex with you last night and ruined everything.”

“That’s not fair!” I said. Mom put her hand on my arm.

“Maybe Minjeong is right,” she said calmly, but her eyes were welling up with tears.

“Oh shit!” Minjeong sigh when she realized what she’d said and how badly mom was taking it. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“I know dear,” mom sighed. “But that doesn’t make you wrong. I don’t know why I let Minho do what he did.”

“You didn’t let me,” I said. “I didn’t give you a choice.”

“Oh Minho…” mom sighed. “Like I said earlier, you couldn’t...”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish. I grabbed her and kissed her. Mom was so surprised that she didn’t fight at first, but it wasn’t long before we were wresting on the bed. I rolled on top of her and pinned her under me before kissing her again.

“Wow.” Minjeong sigh, reminding me she was there.

“And that’s what happened last night,” I said, moving off with some difficulty. “She couldn’t have stopped me if she wanted to.”

“But I didn’t want to,” mom said, sitting up and wiping her lips. “And that’s really the point.”

“This is a lot more than just incest,” Minjeong said, shaking her head. “You two are seriously perverted!”

“And you’re not?” I asked. “I heard your bed last night. It was slamming into the wall pretty hard.”

“He’s my boyfriend! that doesn’t make me perverted!” Minjeong groaned.

“But you can’t say that you didn’t like what you just saw. I can see it in your eyes.” Mom said.

“So?”

“So, if you weren’t perverted you would have been disgusted,” mom replied. “Instead, you got excited.”

“I’m both,” Minjeong said.

“Maybe, but you’re a lot more of the second,” I grinned.

“I’m drunk,” Minjeong said again.

“We all are,” I shrugged. “What does that have to do with it?”

“It’s the alcohol making the sight of you two kissing turn me,” Minjeong said.

“I doubt it works that way,” I said.

“Drinking lowers your inhibitions,” mom put in. “It doesn’t make you like something you don’t.”

“Fine!” Minjeong snapped. “I’m just as perverted as you two! Does that make everything alright?” She ran out of the room before either one of us could answer.

“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “How did we get here?”

“I think we both know the answer to that,” mom frowned. “What we did was a mistake. I knew it then, but I didn’t realize how badly Minjeong was going to take it.”

“Me neither,” I frowned. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” mom said, and for some reason that shook me. Mom always knew what to do.

“I think we need to sleep on it and see how she’s feeling in the morning,” I finally said. Mom nodded.

“You need to sleep in your own bed tonight,” she said.

“Agreed,” I sighed, standing and going to my room without kissing her goodnight, but only because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop despite what was going on with Minjeong. I loved her and didn’t want to make her upset.

I lay in bed for quite a while, unable to fall asleep. My mind vacillated between my desire for mom and my concern for Minjeong. Hell, there was a part of it that even wondered what being with Minjeong would be like.

‘Pervert!’ I grumbled, but that only made it worse.

I closed my eyes and tried to wipe all the thoughts from my head. I pictured a white room with no corners. It was my version of counting sheep. It started to work.

“Minho?” I heard from the doorway to my room. It was Minjeong’s voice. “You still awake?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“I’m sorry about before,”

“Me too,” I sighed. “I know mom feels bad too.” Minjeong came into my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

“You know what all this goes to show?” she asked.

“What?”

“That I should never do laundry ever again,” she replied. “I would never have found out if I didn’t.” It was a weak attempt at humour, but it was an attempt nonetheless.

“The man you marry better be rich,” I teased. “He’ll need to hire a cook; a maid and god knows what else.”

“Ha Ha, Very funny.”

“Hey, the truth hurts,” I laughed.

“Jerk!” she snapped, but she was laughing too. It lasted far too long, but she obviously needed it.

“Minho, I want to go back to mom’s room,” she said afterward. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” I said. “But what for?”

“We always end a movie night by falling asleep together,” Minjeong said softly. “I miss that.”

“Well let’s go,” I smiled, getting out of bed and taking Minjeong by the hand. We went down the hall and knocked on mom’s door. The light was still on so I knew she was awake, but she took a few moments to answer the door.

“Come in.” she finally called.

I opened the door and led Minjeong in. I took one look at mom and saw that she’d been crying. Damn Minjeong noticed too, but didn’t say anything.

“Yes?” mom asked.

“Move over,” Minjeong smiled and climbed into mom’s bed. I moved to the other side and got in as well. Minjeong was already resting her head on mom’s shoulder. “Sorry mom.”

“No, I’m sorry,” mom replied.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” I put said. “After a good night’s sleep.”

“Sounds good,” Minjeong said, reaching out the nightstand and shutting the light. “Good night.”

“Night,” mom said.

“Sweet dreams,” I put in. I knew I was going to have some. I was in bed with my her again and it was dark. I was sorely tempted to touch her, but I knew it would be a mistake. The thought of Minjeong being in bed with us didn’t help at all.

I’m not sure who fell asleep first, but I know I was last.

“Wow…” I heard as I slowly woke up. It was Minjeong’s voice again. “Is he always like that in the morning?”

“How should I know?” mom asked in reply.

“But you’ve seen it before,” Minjeong said, her voice a little excited. I was awake now, but I didn’t open my eyes. I had a feeling I knew what they were talking about. I could feel my hardness even with my eyes closed.

“Yes,” Mom replied nervously.

“You’ve felt it inside of you?” Minjeong asked. She knew the answer, but I guess she wanted mom to say it.

“Minjeong!” mom cried in surprise, but then slowly added, “Yes.”

“Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” mom admitted. “Very good.”

“He’s big, isn’t he?” Minjeong asked. “I mean, I know he’s bigger than Changho, but he’s big in general, right?”

“Minjeong, I have a feeling that you probably have as much experience with men as I do,” mom answered. “But I’d say yes. He’s big. He’s certainly bigger than your father.”

“Who would have thought it of my younger brother?”

“Maybe we should cover it up” mom said.

“No, leave it. I like looking at it.”

“But he’s your brother!”

“And your son,” Minjeong said pointedly. That quickly quelled mom’s protests. “I still can’t believe that you both really did it.”

“You and me both,” mom sighed.

“Do you regret it?” Minjeong asked. “I mean really regret it, not just feel guilty about it because it’s wrong.”

“I regret how it’s affected you,” mom replied. “Neither one of us wanted to hurt you.”

“I know that,” Minjeong sighed. “It’s just that it’s been the three of us for so long. I didn’t realize just how much the thought of you two excluding me from something would hurt.”

“Minjeong, you weren’t excluded,” mom said. “At least not intentionally.”

“But that’s how I feel,” she replied, sounding sad.

“So, you’d feel better if we’d included you in our perverted, incestuous affair?” mom asked in disbelief.

“I honestly don’t know,” Minjeong replied. “But maybe…”

“You’re serious?”

“It would be wrong, but I wouldn’t feel so alone like I do right now,”

“Oh Minjeong,” mom said. “Don’t cry. You know I love you with all my heart.”

“I do,” Minjeong said, obviously fighting back the tears. I felt guilty making believe I was sleeping through this, but ‘waking up’ right at this moment would only make things worse.

“Are you going to be okay?” mom asked after a while.

“I’ll be fine,” Minjeong replied slowly. “But only if you do me a favor.”

“What?” mom asked.

“I want you to kiss me,” my sister said. “Like you kissed him last night.”

“But you’re my daughter!”

“And he’s your son,” Minjeong replied. “That didn’t stop you.”

“I didn’t kiss him.” mom cried. “He kissed me.”

“True,” Minjeong said, and suddenly I could feel the bed move.

“What are you doing?” I heard mom cry. “Don’t!”

“I want to kiss you,” Minjeong said. “Don’t you love me the same you do Minho?”

“Of course, but you’re a girl.” mom argued.

“So?” Minjeong asked. “Haven’t you ever kissed a girl before?”

“No!” mom cried.

“Well, I have,” Minjeong replied.

“On God!” mom cried.

“It was a long time ago when I first started dating,” Minjeong said. “Chaewon and I practiced kissing each other.”

“Your cousin?” mom cried.

“Oh relax,” Minjeong sighed. “All we did was kiss. It’s no big deal.”

“Did you like it?” mom surprised me by asking.

“Honestly… yes,” Minjeong replied. “It was the best kiss I had for a long time, but I think that was mostly because it was also the most relaxed. Eventually I met some guys who kisses drove me far crazy.”

“Like your brother’s,” Mom said, sounding thoughtful.

“I don’t know,” Minjeong said. “I’ve never kissed him.”

“Why don’t we wake him and you can see?” mom offered.

‘Oh yes, please’ I thought to myself.

“Mom, I want to kiss you first,” Minjeong said.

“I can’t.” mom moaned. “I just can’t do it!”

“Then you do love Minho more than you do me” Minjeong said, obviously close to tears again.

“You’re wrong.” mom cried, sounding teary-eyed herself. It was time to wake up. This was only moments away from disintegrating into something very bad.

“Minjeong,” I said as I opened my eyes and sat up. “Weren’t you paying attention last night? Or just a few minutes ago when mom tried to tell you her problem with kissing you?”

“You’re awake!” mom cried.

“Of course,” I smiled.

“I don’t understand,” Minjeong frowned.

“She just told you that she didn’t kiss me,” I explained. “Mom thinks of herself as a good girl. She doesn’t do things like incest and lesbianism.” I laugh.

“But...” Minjeong began. I cut her off.

“She’s never going to kiss you,” I interjected. “But that doesn’t mean she’ll stop you from kissing her.”

“She just did,” my sister cried. “I tried, but she pushed me back.”

“Try harder,” I grinned.

“Hey, Wait a minute…” mom cried, but I silenced her by grabbing her by the neck and pulling her lips to mine. Mom fought at first, but then moaned softly into my mouth.

“See?” I said, pulling back. Minjeong was smiling once again.

“I get it,” she grinned.

“Don’t!” mom cried, but she licked her lips in excitement. “Good girls don’t kiss their mothers!”

“And whatever gave you the idea that I’m a good girl?” Minjeong laughed, taking mom’s head in both hands and kissing her. Again, mom fought, but only for a few moments. Minjeong moaned happily when mom’s mouth opened.

“That looks hot” I groaned.

“Don’t worry brother,” Minjeong grinned. “I have a kiss waiting for you too.”

“Just a kiss?” I asked.

“You’re terrible!” Minjeong laughed, shaking her head before leaning toward me. Her lips were only inches from mine when she stopped. “I shouldn’t. You’re my brother.”

I grabbed Minjeong’s the neck the same way I had grabbed mom’s moments before. I pulled her to me and our lips met. She didn’t fight me like mom, but it was obvious that she wanted me to be aggressive.

“That’s so wrong,” mom moaned excitedly.

“Oh, but he kisses so nicely.” Minjeong moaned.

“It’s not the only thing I do nicely,” I grinned.

“Don’t you dare.” mom cried.

“Think you’re man enough, little brother?” Minjeong asked, her eyes starting to burn with the same lust I could see in mom’s eyes. I was certain it was in mine as well. I took off the few clothes I had on. Minjeong did the same.

“Minjeong don’t… He’s your brother!”

“And you’re my mother,” Minjeong replied. “I wish I was a little braver because then I would try doing something more with you.”

“Oh shit.” I moaned, my cock standing straight out by now. “Now that’s hot.”

“You do like the thought, don’t you little brother?” Minjeong grinned, taking my cock in her hand and stroking it. “Or should I call you big brother?”

“You can call me whatever you want,” I groaned. “Just don’t stop what you’re doing.”

“How about we let mom help?” Minjeong asked. “I don’t want her to feel left out.”

“No.” mom sigh, but everything else about her demanded to be part of what was happening.

Minjeong forced mom’s head down to my lap. Mom fell on my cock despite her protests. Minjeong watched hungrily for a few minutes. Mom’s hair was in the way, so she pulled it into a ponytail and lifted it.

“What’s that?” Minjeong frowned, looking down at mom’s neck. The hickey I left was very noticeable.

“Mom said that we could only be together for one night,” I answered, remembering. “I disagreed and left that mark. I told her she was mine until it faded.”

“Do you always mark what’s yours?” Minjeong asked, smiling sexily. She was obviously enjoying teasing me.

“Yes.” I groaned. “Now why don’t you help mom?”

“Oh?” Minjeong grinned sexily before moving down between my legs as well. She pushed mom’s mouth off of me and started licking my cock. Mom shifted down to my balls and sucked gently.

“Oh fuck.” I grunted. “I’m not going to last long with both of you doing that.”

I had one hand on each of their heads and I couldn’t stop myself from thrusting up into Minjeong’s mouth. She locked eyes with me briefly and then took my entire length down her throat. I groaned and came. Minjeong drank it all down.

“We have to stop.” mom said afterward. Minjeong smiled at her and then pulled mom’s lips to hers and exchanged a deep kiss. It actually took me a few moments to realize they were sharing my cum.

“Damn.” I groaned, actually feeling my cock start to stiffen despite the orgasm I had moments ago.

“Little brother,” Minjeong said, pulling back from mom after a while and wiping her lips. She looked at me and I smiled knowingly. “Will you help me?”

In moments I was on top of her with my cock rubbing up and down her entrance. Minjeong took it in her hand and directed to her pussy. I pushed in slowly.

“Oh brother… yesss!” Minjeong cried. “You’re going so deep!”

“Minho no!” mom cried. “She’s your sister!”

I pulled mom to me and kissed her roughly. She gasped into my mouth. I reached out and palmed her pussy, thrusting the middle fingers deep.

“Don’t worry mom,” I said. “You’re next.”

“No…” she cried, but then shifted so that her mouth was next to my ear. She whispered one word and pulled away. “Hurry…” It surprised me and my cock stiffened even more.

“I’ve never felt so full before!” Minjeong gasped. I leaned forward and kissed her as I began stroking in and out of her hot pussy. Her pussy was perfect, it was tight! Minjeong wrapped her arms around my shoulder as I thrust into her.

“He’s your brother. You’re letting your brother fuck you!” mom cried.

“Oh yeah…” Minjeong moaned. “Keep talking mom. It’s only getting me hornier!” I saw mom smiled slightly.

“It’s so wrong.” mom cried. “I don’t care how good his big cock feeling pushing inside of you.”

“Ohhh It does… It does feel so good!” Minjeong moaned. “Minho’s cock is reaching deeper than any other guy ever has before! I can feel my orgasm building.”

“Wait until it hits,” mom said, looking at me hungrily and forgetting herself for a moment. “Minho knows how to make your body feel like it’s exploding.”

“Nghhyesss!” Minjeong cried.

“But that doesn’t mean you should let him do this,” mom added, staring at her expression once more. Minjeong’s face was completely lit with her lust. “Don’t let him fill your pussy with his cum!”

“Oh yess!” Minjeong moaned. “Fill my pussy! Please!”

“You are such a slut.” I groaned, kissing her roughly.

“Minjeong, you see?” mom asked. “Now your brother thinks you’re a slut, is that what you want?”

“I want him to cum in me!” “Minjeong gasped. “I don’t care if he thinks I’m a slut. I’ll be his slut if he just cum in me!”

“So you want to be his slut?” mom asked rhetorically, but she then surprised me by turning to me and added, “If that’s what she wants then you’re doing it wrong.”

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“Sluts get taken from behind,” mom smiled. “You know that.”

“Oh yes!” Minjeong moaned. “He’ll get even deeper than way!”

I pulled out without another word. Minjeong kissed me briefly before rolling onto her stomach. Her tight ass was same as mom’s, just as enticing. her pussy was open and inviting. My mouth literally watered.

“Wait… what are you doing?” Minjeong asked as instead of going back to fucking her I shifted lower and thrust my tongue into her pussy.

“That’s it,” mom cried. “Lick the little slut’s pussy!”

“Mom!” Minjeong cried.

“You said you wanted to be his slut, now deal with it!”

“Ohhh….” Minjeong cried. “You’re going to pay for that later!” Mom smiled again.

I continued to lick her pussy until she was on the brink of orgasm. She arched her back and gave me full access.

“Minho’s little slut, do you want to cum this way or do you want him to fuck you again?” mom asked Minjeong.

“Fuck me please!” Minjeong moaned. I shifted up and thrust my cock deep with one long stoke.

“Wow.” mom gasped.

“Ohhfuckkk!” Minjeong cried. “I’m going to cum…”

I was close, but not there. I fuck Minjeong through her orgasm. She shivered and shook for quite some time. The sight was something I’d remember forever.

“Stop!” Minjeong cried. “I can’t take anymore.”

I pulled out slowly and she sighed. I turned toward mom and she bit her lip. She saw my expression and saw the look in my eye. She looked frightened despite her excitement.

“Now,” she started. “Leave me alone, you’ve already had Minjeong.”

“Come here.” I demanded.

“No!” she cried and tried to get off the bed. I grabbed her and pulled her back on. Mom rolled onto her stomach, but her hips were raised high and I could see her excitement in her swollen lips and pink gasp. My tongue was drenched in her juices a moment later.

“Wow?” Minjeong said, shaking her head. “Mom, you’re a bigger slut than I am.”

“I am not!” mom cried and tried to get away. I’d barely tasted her, but she was ready. I forced my mother back onto the bed and pushed into her from behind. The sound of her ass made when my hips slapped into it was louder, more enticing.

“Mom, be ready for the ride of your life.” Minjeong said, shaking her head.

“I am…” mom gasped.

“So, you want me to do this?” I teased.

“No…” mom cried right away. “Get off me!”

“You first!” I grunted.

“Very funny,” Minjeong said, rolling her eyes at my bad joke. I could care less. I’d just fucked her and now it was mom turn.

“Minho, this is so wrong!” mom cried as she met my thrusts.

“It really is,” Minjeong said, smiling. “But you love every second of it and you know it! You love how his cock feels stroking in and out of you. You love the thought of him cumming deep inside you!”

“No!” mom cried, but then she locked up in orgasm. She shivered and shook under me for a long time.

“We can’t keep doing that,” mom sighed as she came down from her orgasm.

“Sure you can,” Minjeong grinned. “After all, he marked you as his that first night. I can still see the bruise.”

“Only until it fades,” mom shrugged. “Nothing lasts forever.”

“True,” Minjeong said, standing up. “And I don’t think it’s fair that he marked you as just his. I like to think of you as mine also.”

“I’m willing to share mom with you,” I said, standing as well. “I’m willing to share all the incestuous sluts in my life.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Minjeong asked. I pulled her toward me and kissed her. Minjeong responded with just as much passion.

“That I want you to be my slut too,” I growled.

“I’m not marked,” she shrugs.

I shifted her around until I was behind her. I had one hand around her breast, pulling her back into me. My cock was lodged between her ass cheeks. I used the other hand to lift her hair off her neck. Minjeong’s head fell forward and I sucked on her neck.

“Yes…” she gasped. “Make me yours.”

I left a hickey on the back of her neck, just like mom’s. I also shoved her against the nearest wall and started fucking her again. Minjeong moaned with every thrust.

“Cum in me please…” she cried when her next orgasm was about to take her.

“Yess…” I growled and flooded her pussy with my cum.

“Ohh…” Minjeong cried as her orgasm exploded. “It feels so… good!” We both ended up against the wall panting and trying to hold ourselves up.

“You two better sit down before you fall,” mom said. She was watching us from the bed. I was pretty sure she’d been playing with herself as well, but she stopped after we came. I helped Minjeong to mom’s bed. We both all but fell in it.

“Mom,” Minjeong said. “Kiss me please. I want you to be part of how I feel.”

“Of course,” mom said.

“You know,” I said. “You two could do more than just kiss.”

“We’re not lesbians!” mom said.

“Mom,” I smiled. “Lesbian or not, you love her, it’s just a kiss.” I said.

“Or at least let me take it,” Minjeong smiled.

“Possibly,” mom admitted with a slow smile of her own.

“And one day I might,” Minjeong said, surprising us both. “But not today. I’m not ready.”

“No rush,” I smiled. “Why don’t we just spend the day in bed?”

“No,” mom said, sounding serious. “I have some stuff to get done.”

“And I have to talk to Changho,” Minjeong put in. “It’s bad enough you two have made me a slut, but I don’t want to be a cheating slut.”

“Oh Minjeong,” our mother said. “Must you talk like that?”

“Sorry mom,” Minjeong smiled. “I’ll hide what I am from the real world like you want me to. Besides, I’m really only my brother slut anyway.”

“What about mine?” mom asked.

“Nope,” Minjeong laughed. “You don’t want a slut. You want to be a slut.”

“I do not!” mom cried.

“Sure you do,” I put in.

“Until your mark disappears,” mom agreed.

“You know mom,” Minjeong said thoughtfully. “I think if I ever do take things further between you and me, I’ll need to mark you as mine too.”

“It only seems fair,” I grinned.

“Hey, you both know this can’t go on forever, right?” mom started.

“Sure,” I said.

“Of course,” Minjeong added.

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun while it lasts,” I added.

“Agreed,” Minjeong said, exchanging a look with me. We both obviously had the same thought. “I guess I can wait a little longer to tell Changho.”

“Don’t even think about it.” mom cried. Minjeong and I both moved toward her. Mom’s eyes flashed as she tried to get away and she protested loudly when we caught her. The only thing louder was a moan a moment later.

—

“Looking good!” I said as Minjeong walked by my room in nothing but a towel.

“Thanks,” she smiled, pausing at the door. She was blond and beautiful.

“Are you in a rush?” I asked, trying to sound innocent.

“Yes, so don’t even think about it.” she snapped, not buying it for a moment. She knew what I wanted. I grinned and shrugged. Minjeong smiled at my reaction, shook her head and then added, “Truthfully, I wish I did have the time, but it’s my week to oversee the early morning workouts in the weight room.”

“What a life,” I teased.

“Tell me about it,” she sighed.

“Please…” I snorted. “You love your job.”

“It’s okay,” she replied.

“Come on,” I teased. “How does it feel to know that you’re every teenage boy’s fantasy?”

“What?” she asked.

“Minjeong, you teach in high school,” I explained. “Not only that, you are beautiful. You’re the hot gym teacher every boy thinks about late at night.”

“Oh joy,” Minjeong said sarcastically. “That’s a picture I could do without.” I couldn’t help it but laughed.

“You love it though.” I teased. She shook her head again and didn’t bother arguing.

“Minho, make sure to wake mom up on time,” she said, changing the subject. “She’s got her third interview today.”

“I know,” I smiled. “Did you see how nervous she was last night?”

“She has a right to be,” Minjeong replied. “This job is perfect for her.”

“She deserves it,” I smiled. “I can’t believe how quickly it’s moving.”

“It was pretty cool when she got a call from her old company’s biggest competitor the morning after she quit,” Minjeong said.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “She’ll do fine.”

“Fine?” Minjeong frowned. “She’ll do great!”

“True,” I laughed. “I just wish she didn’t have to fly across the country and spend days at their corporate office.”

“Oh, don’t worry” Minjeong smiled. “Mom will be home before you know it. Besides, I’m still here. I’ll take care of you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I laugh. “You can’t cook and your cleaning leaves something to be desired.”

“Jerk.” Minjeong laughed.

“On the other hand, there are some things you do very well,” I said, smiling slowly.

“Not if you keep being so mean to me,” Minjeong said pointedly and moved past my doorway.

I smiled contently. It was only two weeks since mom quit her job and everything changed so drastically at home. We were all happier now. I wasn’t sure it could last and mom kept bringing up the fact that it couldn’t, but right now I was enjoying myself immensely.

I heard Minjeong leave the bathroom and go into her bedroom. She was done there surprisingly fast. She was one of those morning people. Ugh!

“I’m leaving,” she said as she stopped by my doorway on the way out. “Go wake mom up.”

“What I have to do it?” I asked, far too comfortably to move.

“Mom needs something to help relieve her anxiety about the interview and you’re it.”

“Are you crazy?” I laughed. “She’ll be wired! If I try and go near her...”

“That’s the point,” she interjected. “Do what you always do and don’t give her a choice. She’ll thank you afterward.”

“You could do it,” I offered hopefully.

“No, I can’t,” Minjeong said.

I sighed, reading her expression. “I get it.”

“The thought of mom and me together must really turn you on,” Minjeong said, looking at me thoughtfully. “You bring it up all the time.”

“Hmm,” I said. “Let me think? My mother and sister in bed together. Two beautiful women driving each other crazy. You bet.”

“Pervert!” Minjeong laughed.

“Takes one to know one,” I called as she disappeared down the hall. I heard her leave a few minutes later. “I guess I should wake mom.”

The trip to her room was short. I didn’t bother putting any clothes on. I opened the door and saw mom sleeping in her bed. The sight made me smile.

Instead of shaking her awake, I climbed into bed next to her and pulled her into my arms. She didn’t wake up at first. She snuggled closer instead. I hugged her tight and then kissed her gently.

“Now that’s the way to wake up,” she moaned, returning my kiss.

“Only the beginning of it,” I replied, giving her another kiss before slipping under the covers.

“Minho, what are you doing?” she asked groggily. I ignored the question.

The answer was obvious.

She slept in the nude these days as well. We all did. Frequently we ended up together on the weekends, but most weekdays we slept in our own beds because otherwise we’d all be too exhausted the next day.

“Hey stop!” she gasped when I buried my face between her legs. “I have to get ready. I don’t have the time.”

“Sure you do,” I disagreed, running my tongue up and down the length of her pussy.

“We shouldn’t.” she moaned, spreading her legs and giving me better access.

She tasted just as amazing as always. She had plenty of time before she needed to leave for her flight and I planned on making it memorable. It wasn’t long before my tongue was working her clit just the way I knew she liked it.

“Oh…” she moaned as her orgasm neared. “You’re tongue is so…” I thrust a finger inside of her in response.

“Cum for me.” I demanded.

“Nghhnooo…” she cried, fighting the inevitable. A few moments later her orgasm took her. I licked and sucked until she was done.

She was smiling contently as I moved from under the covers to lie next to her. My lips were still damp with her juices, but she didn’t hesitate in kissing me. She was obviously ready for more despite her orgasm.

Her hand found my cock and she stroked it, not that I needed the stimulation. I was already hard. On the other hand, it did feel really good. I enjoyed what she was doing for a few moments before pulling her on top of me.

She gasps of surprise quickly turned into a moan when I took her hips in both hands and shifted her body until my cock was lined up with her pussy. She was still soaked. I pushed my cock up into her.

“Oh… this is new.” she cried, obviously enjoying the position as I held her hips steady and thrust into her a few times.

“It’s because you like to play hard to get,” I laughed. “I usually have to chase you and hold you down.” I thought she was going to pull off of me.

“You’ve corrupted me…” she whispered lustfully as she started slowly moving up and down.

“So you like having sex with me now?” I teased.

“I’ve always liked it,” she answered in that same lust filled tone. “It’s just so wrong!” I reached up and cupped her breasts.

“But that’s the part you love best, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes…” she admitted, squeezing down on my cock. “And that’s why I keep saying we have to stop. Minho, the last couple of weeks with you and your sister were completely wrong in so many ways, but the truth is that I’ve never been happier. I love you two with all my heart and the pleasure we share, sick and twisted as it is, is more than I could ever have hoped for, but it can’t last forever.”

“I don’t want to talk about that now,” I groaned. “Instead, why don’t you tell me how it feels to ride my cock?” She looked down at me and bit her bottom lip.

She looked ready to continue her argument. I thrust up into her with more strength and pinched both of her nipples gently. She gasped. I could feel her giving in slowly.

“Incredible.” she finally moaned, picking up the pace. She was now bouncing on my cock slowly.

“Focus on that and nothing else.” I demanded.

“Nghhh.” she gasped; her argument forgotten. “Your cock is so big. It fills my insides completely.”

I reached up and pulled her toward me. I kissed her passionately and then shifted her just enough for me to kiss her full tits.

“You like my breasts?” she asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear me say it.

“They’re perfect.”

She smiled and leaned forward, propping herself up with her arms and dangling them in my face. She swayed slowly, teasing me. I enjoyed it for a few moments, but could only take so much of that.

I knocked her arms out of the way and buried my face between her breasts as her torso fell on me. I held onto her hips tighter and started thrusting up into her with short fierce strokes.

“Yes!” she cried as our bodies slapped against each other. It didn’t take long for her orgasm to build. I rolled us around until I was on top and continued stroking in and out of her, only now my thrusts were much longer and deeper. Her nails racked across my back.

“Try not to draw blood this time,” I groaned.

“It’s not like I do it on purpose.” she gasped.

I grabbed her hands and held them above her head, against the bed. She looked up at me and smiled. Her expression was one of lust. I took her beauty in and shook my head.

I held her like that while I thrust in and out of her over and over again, getting faster as time went by. I watched her expression as her orgasm threatened. There was nothing more beautiful to me then the passion that filled her eyes at the moment of release.

“Tell me.” I whispered, close to losing it. “Tell me what you want.”

“Don’t make me say it…” she cried. I stopped stroking for a moment. “No, don’t stop!”

“Then tell me.” I demanded. She gave in quickly.

“I want to feel your big cock buried inside of me!” she cried. “I want you to hold me down and fill me with your cum!” I thrust deep into her pussy.

“Hmm yess…” I grunted and came. She was right behind me. We shivered and shook through our mutual orgasm for quite some time.

“Thanks,” she said with a sigh afterward. “I needed that.”

“Minjeong thought you would,” I grinned, rolling off of her.

“Smart girl,” she smiled. And add, “But what we’re doing is almost over.”

“Over?” I asked in surprised concern.

“You said until the mark you gave me disappeared… It’s almost gone.” She lifted her hair to show me her neck. The hickey was still there, but it was fading. The sight of it stunned me. She walked into her bathroom before I could say anything.

I heard the water turn on as I lay there. I sat and thought for a few minutes.

-

“Minho?” mom groan as I walked in on her. “What are you doing in here?”

I didn’t bother responding. I simply walked into the shower, spun her around and pushed her against the wall. I pulled her hair into a ponytail and moved it out of the way.

“No!” she cried when she realized what I was doing, but by that time it was too late. My lips were latched onto the back of her neck. She fought, but I held her tight as I kissed and sucked on her neck until the hickey was bright once more. I let her go then and she turned to face me.

“I don’t want this to end,” I said. “Not yet.”

“But...”

“I won’t let it end!” I interjected more strongly. “You’re mine until my mark fades. That was the deal.”

“You cheated,” she said, shaking her head.

“So?” I shrugged, pulled her body against mine and kissing her hungrily.

“Minho!” Shhe moaned. “You shouldn’t have this kind of an effect on me!”

“You’re mine.” I said.

“For as long as the mark lasts,” she said between kisses. “That was the deal.”

“I knew you’d see it my way,” I smiled.

“Get out,” she said as she shook her head and laughed. “I really do need to be going soon.”

“You’d leave me like this?” I asked, motioning toward my hardening cock. “Excited and alone? What kind of mom are you?”

“The worst kind,” she said, but then dropped to her knees and took my cock into her mouth.

“You mean the best?” I groaned, taking her head with both hands and stroking my cock between her lips.

She locked eyes with me as I fucked her mouth. She never once looked away. It didn’t take long for me to cum. The sight of her watching me and swallowing as I spurted rope after rope of cum down her throat only made my orgasm last longer.

“Can I return the favor?” I asked, leaning against the shower wall to hold myself up. She started to stand and I reached out one hand and helped.

“When I get back,” she smiled. “We really don’t have the time. If I don’t get going right now, I’ll miss my flight.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I promised.

“I know,” she said, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry,” I added with a grin.

“You my son, have a one-track mind,” mom sighed.

“I wonder where I get it from.” I joked.

“Not me.” she laugh. “I’m a good girl.”

“Sure you are,” I agreed easily, slapping her ass playfully and laughing as I left the shower.

“Hmm,” she sigh sternly. “You and I have to talk about the correct way to treat a lady.”

“I’m willing to listen,” I replied as I dried myself. “But I’m reasonably certain you’ll miss your plane if you try and explain it right now.” She shook her head.

“Another time,” she said, fighting off a smile.

“I can’t wait,” I grinned.

She made it out of the house in plenty of time. The car the company sent to take her to the airport was only waiting a few minutes before she was ready.

“Good luck,” I said as I put her bags in the trunk. “Not that you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” she said, getting into the car.

I waved and smiled as she drove away. I had just enough time to get a couple more hours of sleep before I had to get up and ready for class. I needed it. Mom had a way of completely exhausting me, and the thought of what might happen this weekend with Minjeong made me smile with anticipation.

[starmapz]

what you know - ch16: sleepless nights || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. minor injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic attacks. mentions of difficulty eating. legal drama (likely with inaccuracies). tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 17.6k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

Slipping through the door on Tuesday morning to the lecture hall mere seconds before the professor shuts it, you mutter an apology as you jog up to your seat beside Kento. The blonde’s lips downturn at the sight of your rushed movements as you pull your laptop out, your chest heaving after having run through campus.

“May I ask what has you so rushed?” He questions in a hushed tone as the professor prepares for his lecture.

Letting out a breath, you shake your head. “I had a little bit of an existential crisis this morning, but everything’s good now,” you breathe, forcing a smile.

Kento’s brow raises. “Would this have anything to do with Sukuna?”

“No. Well-” you pause, hesitating as your fingers pause on your keyboard. “Kinda, I guess.”

Kento’s observant eyes flicker between your rushed movements and your expression. He scrutinizes the minute tremor in your fingers and the way you chew on your lip. Unfortunately for you, he’s entirely too observant, and more than willing to call you out for it.

“Have you been crying?”

Like a deer in the headlights, your head whips towards him, wide-eyed. Caught.

The blonde frowns. “Do you have a moment after class before your internship?”

You nod, sighing as you give in, frazzled nerves dissolving. You’re not sure why you bother trying to hide when it comes to him. He’s known you too long, and he’s always been perceptive.

As the professor begins the lecture, you dial in, doing what you can to give your full attention to the subject. You can’t afford another day of catch-up, not when you’re still behind.

When the professor dismisses the lecture hall, you lean back in your seat, dropping the back of your head onto the plastic backrest. With a yawn, you run your hands through your hair, before dropping them to hang at your sides.

Kento’s presence beside you remains steady as he allows you a moment to sort out your thoughts. Your gaze trails across the ceiling, resting on a water stain. You recall thinking those were coffee stains when you were a kid. In hindsight, that doesn’t make much sense.

When you remain unmoving for a minute too long, Kento finally gives you a push. “Care to start with the elephant in the room?”

Shutting your eyes, your brows knit together. “Sukuna?”

“In a sense. What happened with the trial? I didn’t get the chance to ask when I saw you on Friday.”

Shrugging in place, you shake your head. “His step-mom had the whole thing rigged. I don’t think it would have mattered what he did.”

“I see.”

“The kids were devastated,” you murmur, blinking your eyes open as your gaze finds more deformities in the otherwise uninteresting ceiling, “and really scared.”

Kento’s expression remains aloof as he hums in understanding. “And Sukuna?”

You finally tilt your head towards the blonde. You’re in a frazzled enough mood to question whether or not he truly cares about Sukuna’s well-being, but you have no right to be rude when your friend has only ever shown compassion for you. Sighing, you stare back at the ceiling, clasping your hands in your lap.

Hesitating, your lips purse. You’re in no position to be telling Kento the details of Sukuna’s life, but you’re also desperately in need of some support yourself. As much as you appreciate Toji and Uraume, what you really need is a girls’ night (featuring Kento), but you’re not sure whether you have the time to spare for that.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean- I know he’s doing bad. He didn’t sleep between the trial and the hand-off of the kids.” As your neck starts to get sore, you sit up, staring at your fiddling thumbs in your lap. “I haven’t heard from him since before the hand-off, though.”

“And you’re worried?” He confirms.

Nodding, you sigh softly. “I tried texting and calling.”

“Well, surely you’ll see him at work today,” Kento offers, though you’ve already considered that.

“Hopefully. I don’t know,” you admit. You have half a mind to think he might take some time off, or just not show up at all.

“And you?”

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as Kento turns in his seat to better see you. “I’m so behind,” you murmur. The dark circles underlining your eyes feel heavy with the admission. You’d only missed a couple of days, but the truth is that you’ve spent so much time concerning yourself with Sukuna’s affairs that even your time spent studying was wasted on zoning out.

Kento’s sharp auburn eyes flicker between yours. “I meant how are you handling what’s going on with Sukuna, but something tells me the tears weren’t shed over him. Would that be right?”

Your chest slowly rises in a long, exasperated inhalation. “Not this time,” you sigh. “I got some wires crossed and forgot to submit a paper last night. I thought it was due on Wednesday.”

Kento frowns. “I assume it was for your Copy Editing class?”

You nod.

“What was it worth?”

“Thirty percent,” you murmur, blinking your eyes rapidly as you feel tears of stress welling in your eyes. “I don’t know how I was so stupid, I usually have everything right in my calendar, and double-check and-”

“Hold on,” Kento interrupts before you can spiral as you begin to ramble and blame yourself. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Have you had the opportunity to speak with your professor about it yet?”

“Well- no, but he’s pretty strict, and I’m a scholarship student,” you mumble doubtfully, finding yourself picking at your nails.

The very best is expected out of you, you’ve had no issue upholding that until this semester.

“Strict or not, life happens,” Kento points out, not hesitating to wrap his fingers around your wrist and tug your hands apart to prevent you from picking at your nails. He pulls his hands back to his lap with a pointed stare, scolding you with only a look. “I think he would be willing to consider your perspective if you simply explain.”

“I can’t just tell him what’s going on with Sukuna.”

“You can’t allow yourself to fail to spare his feelings, either,” Kento points out evenly, crossing his legs.

Your gaze falls to your lap. “I guess you’re right,” you murmur. “I’ll try to talk to my prof tomorrow.”

Nodding in satisfaction, your friend nods at your side. “And your internship?”

Your eyes widen. “Wait- What time is it? I think I need to leave.”

Pulling his wrist up, Kento calmly recites the time from his wristwatch. “Ten.”

“I’m gonna be late.” You move in a rush to shove your textbook and laptop into your bag, pulling on your coat with one hand at the same time.

You pause for the briefest of moments as Kento catches your attention with your name. “What is it?” You ask, returning to packing up as you zip up your bag and toss it over your shoulder.

“You’ll be alright if you’re a couple of minutes late.”

“I-” you hesitate as you get to your feet. “- I really want to make a good impression.”

Getting to his feet, Kento pushes his belongings into his bag at a much more reasonable pace. “I can sympathize with that, but you also need to take care of yourself,” he points out.

Squeezing your bag strap on your shoulder, your brows draw together. You know all-too-well that you’ve been neglecting some much needed self-care time and relaxation, but life isn’t about to slow down and wait for you. You can catch up later.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

Nodding, you follow after him as he leads to way down the stairs of the lecture hall and out into the spring air.

The sun is peeking through the clouds, but a glum feeling still seems to cling to the air. Or maybe you’re just projecting your stress into the clouds, you can’t be sure. Either way, the chirping of birds and buzzing of the returning insects doesn’t carry the same welcoming feeling of spring that you’re accustomed to.

Falling into step with you, Kento takes the opportunity to gently pat your shoulder. “Breathe,” he soothes, remaining as a steady presence from your childhood. If there’s one thing Kento excels in, it’s his ability to assess a situation and act accordingly to find the best outcome, one of the many benefits of having a psychiatrist as a mother. He watches as you suck in a breath, taking a moment to slow down. “How are the rest of your classes going?”

“I- um-” you hesitate, stumbling over your foot and barely managing to catch yourself in the process. Attempting to walk off the embarrassment of tripping, you brush your coat off and stand straight once more. “Um-”

Kento moves to stand in front of you and stops, forcing you to slow down for a moment, to catch your breath and your spiraling thoughts. Tilting your chin up to look at him, you find his brow furrowed, the first signs of disquiet written across his features. “Take a breath,” he encourages you again.

Taking a deep breath, you force the thought of being late for work out of your mind for now, blowing air from your pursed lips in a sigh.

“Good. Now tell me, what’s going on?”

Chewing on your lip, you avoid Kento’s gaze. “I’m kinda worried about my scholarship,” you admit quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself.

The blonde frowns. “Are you that far behind? How many classes did you miss?”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shrug. “Not that many,” you shake your head. “But my Public Relations and Marketing class had a presentation that I didn’t know about from a publishing house and I don’t know how I’m supposed to catch up on that and I’m worried-”

“Hey.” Kento interrupts as you begin to spiral. “It’s okay. Have you had the chance to speak with that professor?”

“Well, no-”

“Then take a breath,” he urges. “One step at a time.”

You nod slowly, taking his advice.

“Has the Financial Aid Office or an Academic Advisor reached out?”

“Not yet.”

“Then you’ll be okay.” Kento smiles reassuringly, his cool and calm demeanor soothing your frayed nerves a bit. “I’ll help you work through it, how does that sound?”

Your shoulders fall in defeat as you nod, accepting his help. “You’re a lifesaver, thanks Ken. Are you sure you won’t fall behind?”

A chuckle rumbles within his chest. “I’m ahead,” he admits, not as a boast but to reassure you. “Besides, not everyone has a…” he searches for words, “dear friend in need of help quite as you do. I know you’re often busy.” His tone takes on a chiding edge, a certain knowing gleam in his eyes.

As your nerves begin to settle, you hide your face at his teasing, pushing past him to continue on your way to your car. “Don’t say it like that,” you groan, earning a chuckle from Kento. As aloof and stoic as he is, the man can be far too much of a smartass for his own good.

“No? Am I wrong?”

There it is.

“I- No- I mean-” You stammer over your words, giving him a shove.

He chuckles once more, his calm demeanor never faltering. “I see your feelings haven’t changed.”

You continue to avoid his gaze, walking a bit faster.

“I don’t dislike him, you know.”

You pause, turning to face Kento again. “Even after the whole-” you make a motion in the air, flailing your hands around pointlessly.

“Yes, even after the fight.”

You blink, eyes narrowing just a smidge as you wait for him to elaborate.

He continues walking as he replies. “Sukuna is many things. Dense, egotistical, and often careless, to name a few.” He casts a glance in your direction. “I do dislike how he treated you,” he states plainly. “However, I’m willing to look past that and let bygones be bygones if that’s what you wish. I know you care for him, and I trust your judgement. If you’re willing to give him another chance, then I’m not one to hold my personal thoughts against him.” Kento rolls his shoulders back. “I can certainly respect what he’s going through, and I’m willing to bet that a lot of his prior behavior can be attributed to unfortunate circumstances.”

You’re silent for a moment as you contemplate his words. There’s something incredibly heartwarming about the way your friend has the ability to cast aside his judgement in favor of your well-being. Hell, you aren’t even sure there are words to really put into perspective just how emotionally intelligent and mature he truly is.

His support is almost too much.

If you weren’t so busy processing the very genuine care behind his words, you might have teased him for sounding like his mother… Maybe another day.

For now, you’ll just bask in the warmth that his friendship brings, unable to help a genuine smile.

“I… Appreciate that, Nanamin.”

He winces slightly at the childhood nickname, though he chooses not to comment. “Of course. Which reminds me, how exactly are you handling the loss of his brothers?”

As your car comes into sight, you shrug, brushing off the question. “They’re not my brothers.”

Before you can get close enough to escape into your car, Kento grips your forearm to stop you. “Perhaps not, but it’s not that simple, is it?” He inquires, the deep auburn of his eyes flickering around your face as though he can read every little twitch of your features. “You see him as family, do you not?”

You avoid his gaze, staring at the ground as you attempt to put your thoughts into words. “Sukuna doesn’t feel that way about me, I don’t have any right-”

Dropping your forearm now that he has your attention, Kento shakes his head. “I’m stopping you there. I have my own thoughts about Sukuna’s feelings towards you, but you have every right to see his brothers as family. Would you not consider him one of your closest friends?”

Tilting your head at the way Kento mentions Sukuna’s feelings towards you, your lips purse. “Wait, what do you mean? What do you think about Sukuna’s feelings for me?”

Your friend takes a pause, weighing exactly how much or how little he wants to say in the case that he could be wrong. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, so take this with a grain of salt,” he warns, “but he seems happy around you.” It’s not exactly the admission you were expecting, you know that much to be true. Still, he continues. “I think for someone handling as much as Sukuna is, the fact that he seeks not just your support in his time of need, but your attention outside of that, is worth a lot more than you realize.”

Your heart palpitates at the mere thought of Kento’s words being true. So much for a grain of salt. You’re practically clinging to the words like a lifeline.

You can’t even begin to count how many nights you’ve spent staring at the ceiling wondering if things have changed. Wondering if maybe the reason he so adamantly seeks your touch and company is because things have changed, but every time you’re reminded of one thing.

He rejected you.

And if you’re being honest with yourself, second-guessing his feelings now is easier on your heart than facing another rejection, no matter how much more resilient you’ve gotten over the months.

Kento brushes the words aside as though they don’t carry the weight of the world. “Now, wouldn’t you consider him one of your closest friends?”

You nod, not trusting your voice as Kento finally leads the way along the final stretch of campus between you and your car.

“Then, I think it’s reasonable to see them as family. You have every right to be upset.” He stops as he reaches your car. Robotically, you search for your keys in the front pocket of your bag, chewing mindlessly on your lip, lost in thought. “Hey.”

You whip your head around to face him, blinking as you return to the present.

“Get out of your thoughts. I told you to take what I said with a grain of salt,” he teases lightly, shaking his head. “I just want you to know that it’s okay to be going through a tough time, yourself.”

Willing yourself to stay in the present, here with Kento, you sigh. “You’re right.” Climbing into the driver’s seat of your car, you start the engine. “This helped a lot. Thanks, Ken.”

“Of course,” he nods. “Let me know when you have some time, I’ll help you study.”

“You’re the best,” you pout up at him. “I’ll see you later?”

He nods, though his hand remains on the door so that you can’t close it. “That reminds me, Satoru organized a dinner at the bar across from his place on Friday. You missed the discussion at lunch last week, but you’re invited. You should come, I think it would be good for you.”

Inhaling a long, deep breath, you nod. “You’re probably right. Yeah, I’ll try to make it.”

“Bring Sukuna.”

“What?” Your brow furrows as you regard your friend from where he leans over your car door. “But Shoko’s still mad, and Satoru doesn’t like-”

“They’ll live. I think it would be good for you to spend some time with your friends, and I know he’s a part of that for you.”

“Are you sure?”

The blonde hums affirmatively. “I’m sure he could use a distraction.”

Staring out your windshield at the row of cars parked ahead of you, you find yourself nodding. “I’ll try.”

“Good. Drive safe.”

“I will.” Before shutting the door as your friend stands upright, you shoot him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Kento.”

He simply smiles as you make your way home to change before work.

–

You’re exactly eighteen minutes late when you barrel through the door of your office, earning a few stares as you pant when you collapse into your chair in Yuki’s office. She raises a brow at you, glancing at the time.

“Girl, how many times do I need to tell you that you can be late?”

Your chest heaves dramatically as you shake your head. “I need to make a good impression,” you breathe between heavy pants.

“No one’s counting twenty minutes against you,” she quips with a smirk, tapping the edge of her screen where her clock would be with her pen. “You’re still in school, anyway. Everyone knows you’ve got shit going on,” she shrugs, resting her elbow on the table as she leans on the ball of her palm.

Do you ever.

“I know, but-” you pause, unable to find a truly good reason behind your rush to get to work.

“Relax. Maya’s not here right now and I’m your boss, so-” she cuts herself off with a carefree shrug, picking up her coffee. 

Your eyes trail to the corner of your desk where, for the past month or so, your café order has been waiting for you, courtesy of Sukuna. The spot is empty, and usually on the days where it is, Sukuna wouldn’t be far behind, with the beverage in-hand or an invite to join him at the café.

Today is the second day since he began at the publishing house where that hasn’t been the case. The only other day was last Thursday, when he couldn’t be at work and chose to spend the day with his brothers.

Your lips purse at the thought and you twist in your seat to peek out the door. His office is shut, the window that offers a peek into his little nook of the office has blinds shuttered, with no way to tell whether he’s inside or not.

Yuki raises a brow as you turn your attention back to your desk. “No coffee today, huh? You two back to being ex-friends?” She teases, the reasoning behind Sukuna’s absence last week unbeknownst to her.

Your face falls as you open your laptop, sighing as you catch a glance at the clock. It’s not even eleven and it feels as though you’ve had a full day’s worth of stress already.

Though, maybe starting out the day with the realization that you missed a deadline and crying over it should have been the first sign that today would be a bad day.

“No, we’re good,” you assure Yuki. “It’s just been a tough few days,” you admit, omitting any further information.

Sensing your earnestness, Yuki sits upright, her expression morphing to one of sympathy. “Well, if you need anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” you smile, grateful when she lets you put your focus into your work. It serves as a valuable distraction from everything on your mind. Between your missed deadline, your less-than-ideal pace of catching up in your classes, and Kento’s words echoing in the recesses of your mind like some sort of mantra you can’t escape, the moment of genuine focus doesn’t come without difficulty.

Still, you’re able to finish up some edits on your current work and send it along for review to Yuki, who pouts dramatically at you, before deciding to head to the lunch room.

Your heels click on the floor as you make your way out of the office, a bag filled with your lunch held within your palms as you find yourself pausing just outside of your destination. No one is in the lunch room just yet, and your eyes trail to the right where Sukuna’s office lies.

No sound comes from within, and you figure he likely isn’t there, but your curiosity gets the better of you. Twisting on your heel, you find yourself gingerly knocking at the door, hoping, praying, that your friend is within. Any opportunity to check on him that might ease even an ounce of your worries would go a long way for your mental well-being.

When there’s no answer, you chew on your lip as you stare down at the handle, testing whether the room is unlocked as you pull it down. The door clicks as it unlatches, creaking open with a squeak of its hinges.

You peer through the gap, blinking at just how dark it is within the office. The blinds are pulled shut not just in the windows that he shares with the interior of the publishing house, but the windows to the outside as well. The only hint of light is what peeks through the blinds, slivers of the outside world cascading over the surfaces within. The stillness of the air within offers a small corner away from the clacking of keys and scribbling of pens, but what you don’t expect are the soft snores accompanying it.

Pushing into the office, your eyes widen at the state it’s in, and who’s at the center of it all.

Paper is scattered across the floor, along with a couple of pens and some paper clips, but hunched over the desk fast asleep in the heart of the room is your friend. His soft snores penetrate the air, his head resting on his forearms, crossed beneath his face, a thin sheen of sweat slick on his exposed skin. His hair is disheveled and his shirt is wrinkled and pleated more than usual. He’s surrounded by a multitude of paper cups, enough to say he should probably be awake right now with the amount of caffeine he’d pumped into his system.

Your heart pangs at the sight. You honestly hadn’t expected him to be here at all, you’d figured that he would stay home and take some time to himself, maybe focus on his meeting with the lawyer tomorrow, but that isn’t the case at all. He must have attempted to bury himself in his work, unable to slow down for even a moment.

You shut the door behind you, careful not to make a sound as you set your lunch on the edge of his desk and lean down to pluck the paperwork off of the floor. You can just barely make out Sukuna’s writing scrawled across some of the pages, mostly detailing edits he wants to make on his own work, but one in particular catches your eye.

One of the pages is crumpled, it looks as though Sukuna must have had the intention of tossing it out, before he flattened it to use as a notepad. Lazily scrawled across the page is a variety of equations and calculations, with titles beside each total.

Groceries. Rent. Internet. Phone Bill. Lawyer.

The calculations beside the scrawl of ‘Lawyer’ are crossed out a number of times, each number higher than the last. Dread settles in the pit of your stomach as even the final number is scratched out. You can’t make out exactly how much it is, but it’s well in the tens of thousands at this point based on the amount of digits he’s scratched out.

Frowning, you tuck the page within the rest of the paperwork, uneasiness settling in your chest as you get back to your feet. Delicately setting the paper on the edge of the desk, you chew on your lip as you begin popping lids off of each of the empty cups of coffee, stacking the paper cups within one another and tossing them all out.

Gathering the pens and paper clips on the floor, you set those where they belong in a small cup on his desk as well while you contemplate whether you should wake him. On one hand, you want him to sleep, but on the other hand…

His poor back. And neck. He should be home if things are this bad.

Your throat tightens as you make your decision, slowly approaching the man’s desk. Setting your hand gently on his bicep, you shake him softly.

Sukuna groans, his face immediately twisting into a deeply grumpy scowl as he swats you away. You pull your hand back, grimacing as he shuffles and turns his head away from you. “Fuck off,” he mutters.

Good thing you found him and not your boss.

“You should go home and get some rest,” you try to encourage the mostly-asleep man, praying your voice may rouse him from his fatigued state somewhat.

He groans, letting out a breath as he peeks an eye open to see you standing over him. He squints hard as you pull him from his slumber and you swear there’s an almost cartoon-ish bubble popping over his head as his sleep is interrupted.

He pushes up into a seated position, leaning heavily on his forearms. The remnants of sleep remain indented in his cheek as the outline of the fabric of his shirt dimples his skin. Yawning, the man leans back in his chair, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before pushing his long hair from his vision.

“What do you want?” He grumbles from behind his hands as he rubs them over his drained features in an attempt to wake up. He’s clearly bone-tired and very grumpy now that you’ve awoken him, you can’t imagine he’s intentionally throwing an attitude around with you.

“I came to check on you,” you express, tilting your head to the side in an attempt to get a better look at him in the low lighting. “I didn’t think you’d be here today.”

Sukuna huffs, leaning forward as he rests his forehead on his knuckles, propped up by his elbow. His gaze is trained on the wood grain of his desk. “What time is it?” He mutters out the question, casting your concerns aside.

“Almost noon.”

“Noon,” he repeats, unmoving. “Tuesday?”

“Um- Yeah,” you affirm, your brow furrowing at his reaction.

He lets out an exasperated huff. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. Dazed, he raises his head, finally getting a look around his office as he begins to come to, though he’s still squinting, even in the low light. You can just barely make out tears on his lash line as he yawns.

Your lips purse as realization passes over you. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep here,” you mumble.

“You cleaned up,” he mutters, ignoring you.

“I- Yeah. Sukuna, you didn’t sleep here, did you?” You push again, taking a step towards his desk.

“It was just s’posed to be a nap,” he grumbles, tapping on the screen of his iPad and squinting harder as the time flashes up at him. “Christ.”

Blinking at him in shock, you can’t help but go back to the subject that he keeps on frustratingly brushing off.

“You didn’t go home last night?”

Finally processing your concern, he stares you down. “No.”

“Why not?”

Sighing heavily, he massages his temples, fighting off an oncoming headache. “Had deadlines to meet n’ needed money to meet with the lawyer tomorrow,” he mumbles out an explanation.

Blinking in horror at the immediate repercussions of losing his brothers, you feel your worries twist in your stomach and lurch up to your throat. Sukuna can play off as much as he wants that he’s just trying to catch up, but you can see within the crimson of his irises that he’s lost. Trying to find some sort of purpose, something to do.

And you get it.

It happened to you when the two of you fought. When you had to relearn your own hobbies and allow yourself to enjoy your spare time once again, but this is beyond that. This isn’t a few months’ worth of friendship and constant time spent together, this is a man who’s spent years with no spare time, skipping out on sleep in favor of providing for his brothers. This is a man who taught himself to thrive under pressure for the sheer sake of survival.

Now, the pressure remains, but his time is tenfold. How is anyone meant to unlearn a work ethic so ingrained into their system at the snap of a finger?

When you’re busy with life’s obligations, it’s easy to be willing to lose sleep to find time for yourself and your passions, but when that life is ripped from the fabric of your being, it feels downright wrong to spend any spare time indulging in oneself.

And for someone like Sukuna, someone who feels he’s failed everyone around him, that feeling only increases tenfold. It exists on the outer edges of his psyche, sticking to him like glue and threatening to pull him under. It’s a painfully suffocating way to live.

Swiping your tongue across your lower lip, your gaze falls to the blinds. “Can I open those?” You ask, pointing behind him.

He grunts, the barest of shrugs following it.

Moving past him, you pull the blinds open on his window, letting the overcast light pour into the room. Sukuna rubs his eyes behind you, squinting to adjust to the light.

Standing behind him, you frown. “Why don’t you go home?”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?” You push, your brow furrowing with how painfully stubborn this man is.

“Missed almost a week. Gotta make up for it,” he replies almost robotically, rolling his neck. It pops as he picks up his iPad, not sparing a moment as he gets back to it.

Making your way back around to the front of his desk, you worriedly take in his features as daylight streams in, illuminating the surfaces of his office. The thin sheen of sweat remains on his skin, clinging to his forehead in a way that makes him look sickly. Paired with a gaunt and empty expression and dark circles under his eyes that resemble bruises, you can only imagine the pain he’s going through.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Sukuna’s gaze rises slowly, before trailing to the side as he considers your question. Sighing, he rubs his forehead. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Dunno, princess. I had a protein bar at some point last night.”

Your gut twists in further horror at the revelation. “You’re gonna make yourself sick,” you mumble.

He lowers his hand from his forehead, staring blankly at you as he remains silent. His eyes flicker across your features as you stand your ground. When you don’t receive a response, you move to the edge of his desk, digging into the bag you’d left on the surface when you entered the room. Pulling out your lunch, you set it on the desk and slide it across to him.

“I’m not eating your lunch,” he gruffs, staring at the tupperware.

“You’re not. I packed it for you.”

Anyone else might present such a fact as defiance, but Sukuna knows you too well. It’s done out of the kindness of your heart, because you hate that he never brings lunch. Since the day you first shared your lunch with him, of course he’s taken notice that you always seem to conveniently have too much food, it’s only now that you’re acknowledging it not as too much food, but as a purposeful decision to bring extra for him.

He swallows hard, his adam’s apple bobbing as he stares down at the tupperware. You plop yourself down in a chair in front of his desk, leaning back as you begin eating your leftover pasta salad, forcing Sukuna to sigh. Languidly, he frowns as he takes a hold of the tupperware, popping it open to leftover pizza. The smell alone is enough to make his stomach grumble, and he allows himself to give in, leaning back in his chair.

The room is silent aside from the sound of your fork against plastic as you eat. As hungry as his stomach made him sound, Sukuna struggles to find an appetite, eating in slow motion. You finish far before him, snacking on some fruit you’d packed alongside the two meals. You offer him some, but he shakes his head.

Between bites, you find yourself watching the uncharacteristic way that Sukuna moves. It doesn’t seem like he’s given up. He wouldn’t be working so hard even now if he had, but everything from the way he carries himself to the empty look in his eyes is worse than anything you’ve seen from him over the course of the past few months.

This isn’t distance, or being lost in his own head, this goes beyond that. It’s as though defeat is battering him down and even if he refuses to fall, his body and mind are still taking the brunt of the damage.

“How did yesterday morning go?”

Sukuna stops dead in his tracks, his hand hovering over another slice of pizza. He bites down on his lip as the memory of Yuji screaming out for him is enough to make him shudder. He sucks in a shaky breath, feigning nonchalance as he grabs the slice.

“Fine,” he gruffs, staring blankly at the desk in front of him.

You blink, taking in how tense his jaw is as he forces another bite of food into his mouth. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see through his lies. Either way, he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, so you move on to your next concern. “Are you okay, Kuna?”

His chewing pauses as the hair on the back of his neck stands on end. He blinks, his gaze still trained blankly on his desk as memories flood his mind of the meaning behind the nickname so dear to his brothers, and now to you.

He grits his teeth, grinding them together hard as his expression hardens. He doesn't spare you a glance as his anger simmers just beneath the surface. As the pain and fear both caused by his loss clash within his mind, his grip on the pizza tightens.

His morphing expression and sudden frozen stance cause you to tilt your head at him. “Kuna?”

He knows it’s not intentional. God damn it, he knows.

But fuck if the continued use of his nickname doesn't poke and prod at that growing fear of losing his own identity. But if he doesn't let you call him that stupid nickname he used to hate (maybe even still does), then who is he, really?

Swallowing, he slowly returns to his meal, though his gaze never once moves from the desk. Trained emptily on the deep wooden grain beneath his forearms. He flexes his jaw, the tight muscles aching from the pressure he put them under. “I’m fine.”

The words almost sound as though they choke him. Worrying your lower lip between your teeth, you search for anything you can do to find answers, to find a reaction, to find any signs of life within him.

Your stare brings Sukuna’s crimson irises up from the table, his vision catching on the way you chew on your lower lip. He doesn't have the mental fortitude right now to consider the way his gaze hangs on the movement, or the way he has to forcibly tear his gaze away.

He grabs the last piece of pizza as silence continues to permeate the air. It’s not the usual comfortable one, either. It hangs as heavy and thick as the fog in his brain, clinging to you both with the weight of Sukuna’s situation.

There's more to it, though. You’re tense too, more so than usual, now that Sukuna can get a better look at you. Whatever it is that hangs over you, it goes beyond concern regarding his thinly veiled lie of how he’s doing. His brow furrows as his thoughts seem to stall.

He actually considers slamming his head against the desk in an effort to clear his thoughts, but even with the fog of weariness clouding his brain, he knows that’s stupid. 

Clearing his throat, he rests his arm against his desk, the remainder of the pizza you brought him held between his fingers. “You alright?”

“Hm?” Your brow raises, his words taking a moment to register when he pulls you from your thoughts. “Oh- yeah, I’m good!” You shoot him a reassuring smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners as you feign your own well-being. You don’t need to give Sukuna any reason to worry.

His eye twitches, but he drops the subject. Whether he believes you, or he’s too tired to argue, you can’t be sure.

FInishing up your fruit in silence, you cast a glance at the time, packing your lunch back up into the tupperware and tossing it into the tote bag you brought it in. “I should get back to work, but I’ll be back at five sharp because I’m taking you home,” you tell him in the most authoritative voice you can muster. He opens his mouth to retort, but you interrupt before he can get a word in. “See you in a bit.”

With that, you slip out the door before he can argue with you, leaving him in his office in silence.

On the walk back to your desk, you fall into step with Yuki, who happens to be returning from lunch at the same time.

“Hey, where’d you disappear to?” She inquires with a tilt of her head. Her blonde hair cascades to the side as she curiously regards you.

“I was having lunch with Sukuna,” you explain, pointing a thumb over your shoulder. “I went to check on him, he slept here overnight,” you grimace.

“You’re kidding.” Yuki casts a glance back at his office, the door slightly ajar from how you’d left it. “Was he really behind, or something?”

You shrug. “He didn’t give me much of an explanation, he just mentioned deadlines.”

Yuki shakes her head. “Poor guy. He didn’t even take that much time off.”

“Yeah… I’m gonna take the bus home with him.” You nod to yourself. “At least then I can make sure he gets some sleep in a bed.”

“Wait, does he at least have a couch in his office to sleep on?”

You shake your head.

“Oh my god, I can feel his back pain from here,” she winces in horror, rubbing her shoulder at the thought.

You chuckle quietly to yourself. “It’s not like he’d fit on a couch anyway.”

“You have a point,” she agrees, chuckling alongside you as you settle into your desk to work for the afternoon.

It passes quickly, even with a multitude of distractions, courtesy of your brain’s ability to cling to every concern like you owe it money. The amount of times you find yourself re-reading some of the paragraphs in an effort to actually understand the text laid out for you says a lot about your own well-being. It’s not exactly easy to edit when your mind keeps jumping back between Sukuna’s exhausted expression and the paper you missed the deadline for.

Still, you manage to make it through the day without falling behind, which is a relief because you’re not sure if you could handle falling behind on work as well as school.

Packing your laptop into your bag and shutting off your monitor, you wish Yuki a good night as you cross the office to get Sukuna.

When you push his door open, you find him hunched over his iPad with a concentrated expression and a multitude of printed pages and pencil sketches spread across the table. You tilt your head to get a better look at some of them as Sukuna works away, not even acknowledging you.

None of the art strewn across his desk is in a style you’re used to seeing from him. Most of his art for the covers that you’ve seen tends to be in one of two different styles. Either a character with rounded features and bold lines, similar to how he draws for his brothers to color, or in a painterly style reminiscent of old children’s novels. What lays across his desk, however, is a variety of different styles.

“Trying out something new?” You query, finally gaining his attention as his eyes flicker up to you, before he glances at the clock in the corner of his screen.

“Somethin’ like that,” he grumbles out in reply. “Gimme a moment.”

You nod, peering over his desk curiously to catch a glimpse of his current piece. You can’t decipher what project the cover is for based on what he’s done so far, but it’s also a far stretch from his usual art. Bold lines and equally bold colors come together to make a heavily stylized car on a stretch of road with cacti dotted along the background.

It’s gorgeous, but unusual.

“Nosy,” Sukuna mutters, meant to be a playful dig at your curiosity, though it lacks any lilt that could be seen as teasing, coming across more like an irritated grunt.

“Sorry,” you mumble, taking a step back.

“I’m kidding, princess. I don’t care if you look,” he sighs, shutting his iPad off and tucking it in his bag.

“Oh,” you frown, having a tough time reading him as he stands up to pull his jacket on. Raking his fingers through his hair, he pushes it back to the best of his ability, though it still lays in a disheveled manner on his head.

Without another word, Sukuna comes up behind you, nudging you along to lead the way to the bus stop. He remains close behind you as you reach the stop in silence, hands in his pockets as he stares at nothing in particular on the horizon while you take a seat on a bench as you await transit.

“What’s got you trying so many different styles?” You query, peering up at the nearly seven-foot-tall man.

He scratches at the stubble dotting his chin, shrugging. “Just felt like time, I guess.”

You catch the distant glaze that shimmers in his eyes, the way his pupils shrink as they flicker aimlessly from side to side, taking in the buildings across the road. There’s more to this, more to his weary expressions and empty replies, but he’s made it clear you aren’t getting anything out of him.

He’s strangely put-together in comparison to the state you had expected to find him in.

Sure, he’s not all there and unwilling to talk, but you had honestly expected mania. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for monumental anxiety and anger, converging into one horribly pissed off man.

But he just seems exhausted. You can sympathize with that, but you have yet to decide whether this version of Sukuna is more or less worrisome than the man who hides his emotions behind anger.

Moving along, you continue to try to create conversation. “Hey, do you want to go out on Friday? A group of us are going to the bar, you should come.”

“Nah, I’ll just-”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” You attempt to encourage him. “I got sent the details earlier today. Toji, Uraume, and Atsuya will be there.”

“I’m good,” he declines again.

“Please, Kuna,” you plead as you get to your feet at the sight of the bus in the distance.

He spares you a glance, his chest rising and falling as he silently sighs. “Your friends won’t want me there.”

“Kento invited you.”

His brow twitches as he eyes you, boarding the bus and heading to the back where there are two available seats across from one another. Sukuna leans against the bus window, inadvertently tangling his legs with yours as you take a seat in the tight space across from him.

“Since when does he want me around?”

You understand Sukuna’s uncertainty regarding Kento’s motives given that you’d shared the same question. “He wants you there since you’re my friend. It’d be nice for you to get to know one another.”

His chest slowly rises before he puffs out a breath. The window gains a layer of fog for a moment, clearing when Sukuna’s gaze slides to the side. He stares out the window silently as he weighs his options. Giving your knee a nudge with his own, he gives in with a huff. “Fine. Text me the details.”

It doesn’t matter how shitty he’s feeling, or how little he really wants to go, the way your expression relaxes and your eyes light up helps to ease his pain. It doesn’t meet his eyes, but his lip quirks up into a hint of a smirk before his temple hits the window as he turns his attention back to the blur of trees, concrete, and passing vehicles.

Sukuna’s never been particularly enthusiastic or energetic- but it’s rare that he simply won’t entertain any conversation. You know it’s been an exhausting few weeks, especially as the world keeps on moving- with or without you both- but it’s equally clear that Sukuna needs a break.

Hell, maybe you both do.

Chewing on your lip, you find yourself watching the passing vehicles, as well. You can’t help but wonder what’s going through Sukuna’s mind, what he’s thinking about, how he’s feeling- you want to ask, but the only type of communication he seems even the slightest bit responsive to is touch.

Your gaze trails down to the space between you, where your legs are leaning against one another. Moving your foot closer to him, your calf brushes his. His gaze doesn’t move from the window, but he does pull his leg back to tangle it around your extended foot.

Maybe he’s at wit’s end, but it brings you solace to know that he still finds comfort within you.

The silence grows comfortable as you find your place within his world, watching passing cars. As your stop approaches, Sukuna lazily lifts his arm to hit the alarm for your stop.

You tilt your head at him. “I’ll walk you to your apartment.” It’s more of a statement than an offer, catching Sukuna’s attention as he sits upright across from you, his gaze trailing your expression.

“Cute,” he hums lowly, “but you should go home.”

Apprehensively, you search for the words to convince him otherwise, but his mind’s made up. As the bus slows when your stop approaches, he lifts your bag from under your seat, setting it on your lap.

“Go home, princess.” He encourages hollowly as he unravels his leg from yours.

As the bus halts and the doors open, you can only frown as he gives you a nudge, practically shooing you out the door. “See you Thursday?” You ask hopefully, pausing just before you hop onto the concrete outside.

He grunts.

–

Time seems to pass… differently.

You can’t say for sure what it is that gives you that feeling, but you swear everything is either long and drawn out with no signs of speeding up, or everything passes in the blink of an eye. Classes drag on, but honestly you find yourself thankful for it given that you’re actually grasping some of the material now. No longer do they pass before you can really focus with only thoughts of Sukuna, Yuji, and Choso to fill your time, but in place of those thoughts come a dozen other worries.

You hadn’t found the empathy you were hoping for in your professor, who deemed that you would simply need to take a zero on your delinquent paper for what he claimed was your own doing. It meant pouring more time into Copy Editing, on top of what you already had missed.

Your days are long, your nights longer as you study and attempt to make up for lost time with your scholarship potentially at risk.

Work is equally stressful between having another thing to manage and the fact that every time you enter Sukuna’s office, you’re pretty sure one or two more empty coffee cups have miraculously appeared out of thin air. He was going home every night now at the very least, though if you’re being honest with yourself you don’t think that’s because he feels the need to.

After the meeting with his lawyer, he’d grown infinitely quieter. It doesn’t matter how hard you push, it’s damn near radio silence from your friend. He’s not receptive in the slightest to any attempts to appeal to him. You can see it taking a toll on him. You know him well enough to know that each empty cup of coffee is another worry thrown to the wall and another wound he’s forcibly bandaging. It shows in the way his demeanor dulls every time you see him.

If this is what it takes for him to cope, then you suppose it’s better than a world where he’s alone on the washroom floor. If you’re honest with yourself, that image keeps you up at night. You wonder if his nights alone are spent that way now, but he simply refuses to reach out, too caught up in the hollow feeling that surrounds him.

You thank whoever above will listen that he doesn’t bail on your Friday night plans, even if you find yourself feeling as though you should bail. As much as you’re worried about Sukuna, you’re drowning in your own worries now too, which is why Friday night manages to take you by surprise.

Your nose is buried in a textbook when your phone goes off.

5:38 PM Kuna || you taking the bus to the bar

5:38 PM Kuna || ?

It takes a moment for the time to settle in. Shit. You should be leaving right now and you’re sitting in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie with books stacked to your shoulders piled on your desk.

Pushing up from your desk to run and get ready, you type out a quick response.

5:40 PM You || That's the plan!

In a rush to be at least somewhat on time, you miss the message he leaves you that he’s planning on taking the bus with you and that he’ll be there in a few minutes. So, when he texts you that he’s at your place while you’re in the middle of doing your makeup, you’re running to the door with mascara done on one eye.

Swinging it open, you find Sukuna staring down at you with his signature frown, his expression stoic as ever. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, a silver chain laying across his collar bones. If it weren’t for the fact that his demeanor screams exhaustion and his hair is fairly windswept, you’d almost take him for being at ease. Those who don’t know him well may even assume he is.

He raises a brow, his gaze flickering between your eyes.

“Think you missed a spot,” he comments dryly, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as though he can’t see the mascara in your hand.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you step aside to let him in. “Sorry, I missed your text. I’m running a bit behind.”

Sukuna quietly shrugs, crimson irises trailing after you as he watches you head back to finish your makeup. His gaze never falters as he watches you lean over the sink to get a better look in the mirror. Slowly, his vision drops, following the arch of your back until he’s openly staring at your ass.

Catching himself before he can think too much of it, he blinks, clearing his throat.

“Sorry, I’m almost done!” You call out at the sound. He grunts, though he doesn’t mind waiting.

You’re ready only a few moments later after changing into a skirt and a small, red sleeveless collared shirt, moving in a flurry as you gather your phone and belongings, tucking everything into place before leading the way out the door.

Taking the bus together finds you in a familiar position across from Sukuna, who naturally- or maybe even subconsciously- tangles your legs together.

It may be him who usually finds comfort in you, but you find your shoulders relaxing as you smile down at your intertwined legs. For once, you let yourself enjoy his presence too. With everything Sukuna’s going through, you can’t bring yourself to wallow in your own worries around him, but even if he’s unaware, his company does wonders to ease your stress.

Relaxing into the seat, you smile softly at the hardened man whose attention hasn’t left you since you barely made it to the bus in time.

He clears his throat, his expression unreadable as he mutters, “you look good.”

Your cheeks warm, heat rising to the tips of your ears as you tilt your head with a sweet smile. “Thanks, Kuna.”

His brow twitches, but he remains otherwise aloof as ever.

“You look good, too,” you return his compliment as butterflies burst within your stomach. In the moments that follow sweet interactions with Sukuna, there’s usually a wistful feeling that accompanies your longing. One that you know all-too-well as the telltale reminder that he doesn’t return your feelings, but as your heart pounds a little bit faster in your chest, you’re met with something different.

Uncertainty. Maybe even a little bit of hope, no matter how delusional the thought may be as you cling to Kento’s words from earlier in the week. You know better than to cling to what could be nothing more than a dream, though.

“Who’s gonna be at the bar?” Sukuna mumbles across from you, although you’re already only a couple of stops away.

“Shoko and Kento for sure, Satoru organized it, so Suguru and probably Toji will be there-”

“Toji? What does he have to do with Satoru?” Sukuna hums, confusion written across his features.

“Oh-! They’re really close now.”

He snorts. “You’re pullin’ my leg.”

“I’m not.” You shake your head, continuing to list attendees as some sort of pang thrums in Sukuna’s chest. He scowls down at his lap, something akin to hurt, or maybe even jealousy at the thought that Toji’s found someone to take Sukuna’s place. But who is he to judge who Toji spends his time with? It’s not like Sukuna’s been around in almost four years, there’s no one else to blame but himself.

He inhales a long, deep breath, grateful when the bus lurches to a stop a couple of blocks away from the bar and your train of thought comes to a close before you can ask for Sukuna’s thoughts on whatever you’d been talking about. It’d be a lost cause, he had stopped listening after hearing Toji’s name.

The bar is a couple of blocks away from Satoru’s frat house, Sukuna recognizes the neighborhood. Last time he was in the area was the night that the two of you headed to Strip Joint (the chicken place, of course), after leaving the party.

It feels like years ago, yet he thinks that may be the moment when it really sank in just how fucked Sukuna really was. Not just with the weight of the lawsuit and responsibility, but with you, too.

You lead the way to a sports bar, the neon sign shining brightly over the pavement below your feet, illuminating the lot in a red and blue glow. Sukuna holds the door open for you, revealing a bustling bar with the latest pop hits playing from the overhead speakers, while a number of TVs line the walls. Each one is playing whatever games are on, though it seems as though most of the focus is on some football game.

If you had to guess, this was probably Toji’s choice. It’s not as nice as Satoru’s usual choices,  but that just means your wallet gets a break for once.

Bottles of various liquors from around the world line an array of glass shelves across the back of the establishment, a pale and worn counter spread in front of the bartenders. They push drinks across to various patrons, each bottle replaced with a clink as it hits the glass shelf.

Tucked in the corner is a large ‘U’ shaped table with a larger group than you had originally expected.

Suguru, Satoru, Toji, a man you don’t recognize, Uraume, Atsuya, Yu, Kento, Shoko’s friend Iori, Shoko, and finally space for you and Sukuna, last to arrive thanks to your inability to tell time. Your tattooed friend signals for you to slide in first beside Shoko and across from Satoru and Toji. It’s a tight squeeze, leaving your thighs and shoulders brushing.

As you greet your friends, Sukuna silently evaluates the table. He knew his friends began to merge with yours at some point, but even then he hadn’t realized to what extent, as Uraume and Suguru happily converse from across the table as though Toji, Satoru, and one of the business students Sukuna scarcely recognizes as Shiu aren’t sitting between them having a conversation of their own. That feeling from earlier twists within his stomach again as Toji barks a laugh at something the business student says.

Shoving the feeling down, he picks up a menu, scanning it for the cheapest drink with the highest alcohol content.

While most of the table share surprised glances at the sight of Sukuna, Satoru doesn’t hesitate to make his feelings known, much to your dismay.

“I don’t remember sending an invite out to you,” the frat boy pointedly glares across the table, challenging Sukuna’s presence.

It doesn’t matter how many pieces of Sukuna have vanished. It doesn’t matter how many are scattered across the floor, bent, broken, and not worthy of fixing.

Sukuna doesn’t back down from a challenge.

“You gonna cry about it?” His words don’t even have venom, there’s no real ill intent behind them. He’s not having fun rising to the challenge of a fellow student like he would have so many months ago. His words are meant only to keep up the reputation that even at his lowest, he refuses to tarnish.

Satoru, on the other hand, takes the bait. He wants the challenge. You’re pretty sure to some extent they enjoy egging one another on, but there’s no gleam in Sukuna’s eyes this time. He leans back, slumping in the seat with crossed arms as Satoru scoffs.

Ignoring Sukuna’s hollow taunt, he continues. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot you think you get to treat everyone like shit and still show up unannounced.” His voice rises enough that it pulls the rest of the table from their conversations, all eyes on a charged up Satoru and drained Sukuna.

Red irises flicker down to the menu once more as Sukuna prays the waiter arrives soon. He needs a drink to handle Satoru on a good day, but now?

He’s not even angry with the man across the table from him for putting him on the spot in front of everyone. He’s completely devoid of any real opinion over whatever Satoru has to throw at him, because Sukuna knows.

He knows he treated you like shit. He knows he treated Toji like shit. Satoru’s reminder doesn’t open that wound any further, it’s already bleeding at the sight of Toji replacing him (rightfully so).

But Sukuna can’t let Satoru know just how low he’s gotten. He’s too prideful for that, still. “Yeah, lucky me,” he neutrally replies.

Satoru’s brow twitches into a furrow. Sukuna’s replies, although exactly what Satoru was fishing for, aren’t filled with the bravado he’s come to expect. Unfortunately, the frat boy just never knows when to drop something.

“That’s it? Lucky you?”

“Satoru-” Suguru attempts to interrupt, with a hand on his friend’s shoulder, but he’s shrugged off as the white-haired man continues.

“No, fuck that. You think you get to parade around and piss everyone off, then drop out and we’ll all just- what? Forget about it?”

Sukuna’s eyes zero in on Satoru again, a nerve struck at the mention of dropping out. His lip curls into a snarl as he replies. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

“You made it my fucking business when I had to start placing bets on whether or not she’d be crying every day at lunch!” Satoru snaps back, bringing the table to a deathly silence as he points in your direction.

You shrink in on yourself as Sukuna pushes up from the end of the table. “I should go,” he mutters under his breath. Anything else, god, anything else and he might have a retort, but with you sitting beside him as proof of his errors, he doesn’t have it in him to disappoint you by fighting with your friend anymore.

“Satoru, that’s enough,” Kento’s authoritative voice rings out across the table. He fixes the frat boy with a glare, locking eyes with Sukuna who’s one turn of his heel away from leaving. “Sukuna, I invited you. You’re welcome here.”

“What the hell, Kento-”

“Shut up, man,” Toji grunts beside Satoru, nudging him. Fire rages behind his eyes as he watches Sukuna’s gaze round the table, before landing on you. The table’s attention shifts, all pairs of eyes watching a silent exchange.

You stare up at him with a pretty pout. Regardless of Satoru’s (somewhat) good intention to protect you from Sukuna, he’d still called attention to something that you can’t deny. Sukuna had hurt you. Regardless, there’s a plea behind your eyes.

“Stay.”

Sukuna’s never been particularly good at denying you. His gaze flickers to Kento, who gives him a minute nod, and Sukuna takes a seat once more, ignoring Satoru’s glower.

The table returns to chatter after a moment as both men quiet down. You reassuringly nudge your friend beside you, but his attention is given in full to the menu beneath his fingertips as he leans over the table, his forehead on the ball of his palm.

As a waitress pops by to take orders, everyone gets a variety of different cocktails and beer. You order a Moscow Mule, while Sukuna just shrugs and says he’ll have the same. Before the waitress can leave, he stops her and requests Everclear in place of whatever smoother Vodka they may have used.

You may not drink often, but you recognize the name well enough to know what the intention of Everclear is. It tastes like shit, at the cost of being just about one of the most alcoholic drinks you can get in a restaurant.

You blink in surprise at his request, lips parting. “Are you okay?” You whisper, leaning close enough that he can feel your breath fanning his collar.

“Peachy,” he grumbles, clearly still frustrated over the debacle with Satoru.

Shoko, likeminded, leans over to ask you whether he’s okay as well, keeping her voice low as she mutters the question in your ear.

You shrug, sharing her worried glance.

It doesn’t matter that Shoko still isn’t thrilled with Sukuna, ordering Everclear at a friendly get-together after getting into it with Satoru is enough to make anyone’s warning bells sound. “How’s he been lately, anyway?”

Casting a glance at Sukuna, who’s turned towards the TV behind the bar, away from the table, you hesitate. What the hell are you supposed to say to that? ‘Oh, you know. I don’t think he’s slept in a week, I watched him break down multiple times, and- oh! How could I forget? He lost custody of his only family’.

That’ll go over well.

Turning back to Shoko, you lean in close enough to keep yourself out of earshot of the rest of the table. “If you mean towards me, he’s been…” you pause, searching for the right word, “sweet.” You’re not sure if it’s exactly the descriptor that’s the most fitting, but as far as Sukuna goes, he’s been sweet to you.

“And in general?”

It’s a dumb question and she knows it as she sees his Moscow Mule get set on the table, watching in horror as he downs at least half of it without so much as blinking. It could be water for all you know based on his reaction, or lack thereof.

“Scratch that. What the hell happened?” She changes her question as Sukuna leans back against the table, his eyes trained on the football game.

“What didn’t?” You groan as Sukuna drowns his shortcomings in alcohol.

“That bad?”

“Whatever you’re imagining, it’s probably worse.”

Shoko raises a brow. “Well, shit.” She chews on the inside of her cheek, contemplating his well-being. Setting a hand on your forearm, she turns her attention to you. “How are you doing? I feel like you’ve been dodging my texts to hang out.”

Groaning, you lift your gaze to the ceiling as your voice returns to a normal volume. “I’m so sorry about that. I missed a deadline on a paper and I’m super behind.”

“Shit,” she hums thoughtfully, pulling an olive from her drink and popping it in her mouth. The toothpick it was skewered with rests between her lips as she continues. “How behind are we talking?”

“Enough,” you chuckle dryly. “The prof won’t let me make up the paper I missed, so I basically need an eighty-five or higher on the final if I don’t wanna hear from an Academic Advisor about withholding my degree or making me pay for the semester for violating the scholarship’s terms.”

“Asshole,” she scoffs in reference to your professor. “Eighty five, huh? Guess it could be worse.”

You nod. “At least this is my last semester.”

“Lucky,” she quips with a wry smile. “Doesn’t your scholarship help with job placement, too?”

“Mhm. The company that sponsors it has a lot of connections, it’s probably how I got my internship in the first place.”

“I thought you just applied there normally.”

“I did,” you affirm, taking a sip of your drink. “But my applications mentioned that I have a Kamo Corporation scholarship, so they probably just chose me because of that,” you shrug.

“That’s a bleak way of looking at it,” she mutters, shrugging as she downs the first half of her drink. “Do you like it there?”

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you grin. “It’s great, wait- I need to catch you up on the office drama,” you excitedly tell her, launching into conversation.

The table begins to mellow as alcohol flows through the blood of everyone at the table after the first round of drinks. With the first sip of his second drink of what may as well be disinfectant, even Sukuna loosens up somewhat as you find him leaning a bit closer, his demeanor calm as listens in to your explanation of your shitty coworker Reggie and his antics. He even chimes in every so often to offer a detail about the office, earning the occasional laugh from Shoko and Iori, who joins the conversation as well.

Midway through his second drink, Sukuna even finds himself feeling okay for the first time this week. The haze of liquor enshrouds his mind and blocks out shitty memories, bringing with it a comfortable buzz that allows him to relax. The pain dulls, sedating the voice at the back of his head screaming that he’s a failure, until it’s nearly mute, and with each sip he finds himself chasing the quiet that it brings him.

It’s funny, that in the far corner of a noisy sports bar with some top forties hit blaring over the speakers, he finds a slice of tranquility. By his third drink, he’s even comfortable.

As the conversation shifts to Shoko’s odd classmates and Kento and Yu end up chiming in, you turn to Sukuna.

“How are you feeling?”

Hazy eyes shift towards you as his chin remains leaning on his palm. “Okay,” he replies simply, though it’s the first time he’s sounded convincing in a while.

You inspect his features, but there’s no crease between his brow, no slight downturn of his lips, and no anger hidden within his eyes. He looks at ease. Whether or not that’s something to be happy about, you have yet to decide. Of course you want him to be able to relax and you had figured a night out would do his mental health good, but something tickles at the back of your mind.

Like an itch you can’t scratch, the reminder that he’s casually sipping on Everclear remains there no matter how hard you try to shake it. It’s not exactly something you can ignore, not when he orders his third drink. You eye his glass, uncertainty and concern brimming in your chest.

That’s the equivalent of, what? Six normal drinks? Seven, maybe even eight? All within the span of an hour, and you’re barely halfway through your second.

“Are you sure?”

Sensing your unease, he swirls his cup momentarily, sitting up and nudging you with his thigh. “Positive, princess.”

You can’t help but feel as though he’s chasing answers at the bottom of a bottle. Either that, or he’s searching for a way to cope that doesn’t leave him hollow.

Though, looking at the way his eyes don’t leave you for a moment, you wonder if there’s something deeper to it. Like he’s not just searching for a way to cope without leaving him hollow, but also way to cope without stretching you to your limit. Like he’s trying to spare you from being pulled under by his ocean of problems.

You’ve watched him tear himself apart and offer pieces to those around him until he has nothing left to give, is this the culmination of it all? A man who seeks sedation in order to hide from the fact that there are no pieces of himself to pick up at the end of this all? Because the man who used to only know how to take has given so much that there’s nothing left?

You and Toji hold the last two pieces left of himself. You protect whatever is left of the Sukuna you’ve grown to love, and his connection to Toji remains tense, at the end of the day.

Worst of all, he won’t allow you to give it back, like it’s easier to simply observe what happens around him while he slowly fades away.

Trauma shaped him into a man who reacted with anger out of fear in order to protect himself. At the end of the day, it never mattered how tired he was, he would fight to protect the care and joy he still carried within. When you came along, you provided respite, allowed him the chance to take a breath and relax.

But new trauma tore that away, and as it tears and rips at the shreds of him that remain, you can only watch as the man filled with joy and care disappears, leaving only the anger, the anxiety, and worse still, complete and utter lack of- well- anything at all.

You should be happy to see him relaxed. Hell, you are. It was your first thought upon seeing the tension in his shoulders dissolve, but somehow, this is worse.

Chewing on your lip, you set your hand on his wrist, sliding your fingers beneath the sleeve of his leather jacket. He’s warm, even more so than usual, his eyes sliding down to the feeling of your hand on his skin, smoothing along his tattooed skin. His pupils are so blown his eyes are almost completely void of the familiar crimson.

You know he won’t talk to you about what happened when he lost the kids. No matter how hard you push, he’s locked that memory away and refuses to bring it to light, as though if he dares to let it out, it might hurt him again. But there has to be something going on that you aren’t privy to, because you don’t know how to navigate a world where Sukuna still seeks your comfort, but you don’t know how to provide it.

“How are things going with Ms. Harte?” You query, brow drawn together in concern for your friend as you try to pull answers from him.

Foggy eyes meet yours, flickering down to your lips that are drawn into a frown. Tearing his eyes from your lips by force, he casts a glance around the table to make sure no one is listening. Still, his answer doesn’t give you much to work with.

“Fine.”

It sucks. Everything about his completely numb responses sucks. There’s no bigger, wiser word to be used.

It fucking sucks.

How many times has he brushed you off, this week alone? You can’t say for sure, you lost count the day you found him asleep in his office. But even then, he gave you more to work with than this.

So, what really happened with his lawyer?

“I don’t believe you,” you mutter, causing his drunken numbness to falter. A crease forms between his brows as he evaluates your expression, filled with concern.

His jaw clenches before he takes another sip of his drink. Whatever he’s wrestling with mentally, it dissolves as Everclear numbs him. “Things… don’ look good,” he admits, his words slurring as he stares straight through you. He’s clearly even more drunk than you realized.

“What happened?” You push.

He checks again that no one is listening in. “‘S hard t’ guarantee a fair trial,” he shrugs. “We got three weeks t’ submit a retrial ‘r whatever, but-” he cuts himself off, shrugging again. “Not like we got any new evidence.”

Keeping your voice low, you lean closer to Sukuna. “Are you okay? Like, really.”

He tilts his head to the side, his judgement clouded by enough alcohol to sedate a bear. His eyes take no time in locking onto your lips. “‘M fine.”

Fine. Fine. Always fine.

“God, Sukuna,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat and breaking him from his stupor. “You’re so frustrating. I just wish you’d talk to me.”

His expression doesn’t change as he watches you. You wonder how much of this he can even make sense of in such a state, a slight sway to his movements as he rolls his wrist over the table to motion to you.

“‘M talkin’ to you now.”

Your brow raises at his- well- stupidity, for lack of a better word.

Sighing, you shake your head. You figured his lips would be a bit more loose given how drunk he is, that maybe he might let some sort of detail spill, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

He’s completely and utterly plastered, and- oh. Oh, great. He’s waving the waitress over to order another.

What would that put him at? The equivalent of ten shots within an hour?

This is dangerous, even for a man of his stature, and it;s clear he’s not thinking straight.

“Sukuna, stop-” you tug on his bicep before he can get the words out, shaking your head at her. “Water, please. He’d like water.”

“What? No, I-”

“Water coming right up,” the server nods, catching your drift.

“What th’ hell?” Sukuna growls, turning to face you with a frustrated scowl.

Grabbing a hold of his forearm, you cling to the leather of his jacket. “Sukuna, please. Just have some water in between,” you plead.

Whether it’s the look of concern on your face, or the way he’s completely and utterly distracted by your lips again, he backs down.

You’re not a fool either, you’ve noticed. You’ve noticed each and every time, and your heart stutters and jumps and your hands shake as you try to convince yourself that he’s just drunk. Some part of you, deep down, no matter how much you try to bury it, knows that he thinks you’re attractive. That’s why he kissed you in the first place last year. But that’s not what you want, and you’re not about to let yourself get caught up in those thoughts.

You can’t cling to Kento’s assumptions about Sukuna’s feelings.

Especially not when he’s this drunk.

Begrudgingly, Sukuna sips on the water placed in front of him, finding himself staring at the table as conversation continues on around him. Half of the table is discussing future plans, which he has no desire to contribute to, while the other half is discussing how Satoru is about to become a godfather.

He has even less of a desire to discuss kids, mostly tuning out everyone around him.

“You? Excited to be a godfather?” Suguru quips, amused. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“It’s not like I’m having my own kid, I’m not ready for that!” He retorts, chuckling behind a glass of something that looks outside of your budget. “But I’d be a good dad,” he nods assuredly.

Toji snorts, amused. “You’re a fuckin’ frat boy,” he points out.

“I mean, yeah, I said I’m not ready yet,” he agrees with a shrug, “but I’ll be a great dad. Better than you,” he teases snidely.

Toji, unaffected, just shrugs. “Yeah, probably.”

It’s not your business, but you’ve seen glimpses of what Toji could be like, and you actually disagree. You keep your mouth shut, regardless.

“I think we can all agree Yu would make a great parent,” Shoko pipes up, directing attention to the blushing man who’s waving his hands dismissively through the air.

“Yeah, and this asshole would be the worst,” Satoru sneers, directing attention towards Sukuna.

The tone of the table drops very suddenly as Sukuna lifts his head from where it rests against the ball of his palm, fixing Satoru with a deathly stare. Half of the table knows. Half of the table is completely unaware.

And the half that knows have eyes wider than a chasm, horror plastered across their features.

“The hell’s that s’posed t’ mean?” Sukuna growls lowly, a newfound venom returning to him, like even alcohol can’t numb him from Satoru’s offensive words.

“C’mon, you’d be the worst here by a-”

Satoru is cut off with a cough as Toji hits him in the chest hard enough to make the frat boy reel back, bewildered. “Toji, what-”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Toji warns, deathly serious.

Satoru, confused, rubs the spot where Toji smacked him.

“Nah, let ‘im continue,” Sukuna hisses, only leaving Satoru further disoriented.

Unfortunately for the table, the frat boy’s a lightweight, and he’s already had too much to think clearly. Rather than heeding Toji’s warning, he take’s Sukuna’s bait. “It’s not that deep, he’s just an asshole and he’d be just as bad of a dad as he is a friend,” Satoru affronts, having no clue what exactly he’s walked into, even as Toji and Uraume both warn him to stop. But this is Satoru, when does he ever listen?

“You don’ know th’ first thing about me, you prick,” Sukuna barks, his words horribly slurred under layers of inebriation. The table shakes as he stands suddenly. “‘Nd you don’t know th’ first thing ‘bout being a father,” he adds, earning more eyes on your table as he raises his voice enough to garner the attention of other bar patrons.

Suddenly, the football game doesn’t seem nearly as interesting to the onlookers as the giant tattooed man about to square off with the overly cocky and confident Satoru Gojo.

“Sukuna, it’s okay, let’s just-” You ignore the pounding of your heart as you rise to your feet and earn a number of stares yourself, but Sukuna’s burning in his own rage.

The implication behind Sukuna’s words goes right over Satoru’s head as he rolls his eyes. “Oh, and you do? Puh-lease,” Satoru dramatically groans in an effort to get a rise out of Sukuna. “You couldn’t even finish college, how are you supposed to provide for a-”

“Satoru!” You call across the table, placing a hand on Sukuna’s chest to prevent him from lunging across the table and strangling your arrogant friend. “Stop, please.”

For once, Satoru actually listens, if only because he’s somewhat stunned that it’s you stopping him.

“Nah, he’s right,” Sukuna growls, a twisted smirk crossing his lips. He presses against your palm as he leans in, his skin burning with warmth through the thin material of his shirt. You can’t be sure whether it’s from the alcohol or the flames that dance behind his eyes. “Say what y’re thinkin’ since you’re so much better,” he pushes, eyes narrowing. “‘M a womanizer, got fuckin’ daddy issues, can’t stay ‘n school, strapped f’r cash, right?”

Satoru’s lips part, the fun in pushing Sukuna’s buttons dissolving as things become a little bit too real. His gaze slides between the brute and you, searching for answers.

“Kuna, come on,” you plead, pressing harder against his chest, but he either doesn’t feel it or simply doesn’t care in his furious state.

“That’s what y’think, isn’t it?” He hisses, completely ignoring you, blinded by rage. The patrons that surround you have gone deathly silent as even the ambient clinking of glasses and laughter dies from the air. “‘Nd maybe y’re right,” he tacks on, relieving the pressure on your hand as he stands up straight, some form of disdain crossing his face. “I’d be a shit dad.”

Bewildered, Satoru can only stare, his eyes whipping wildly between everyone at the table as though he might be the only one who missed the memo, but there’s a variety of confused stares tucked within your group of friends. Uraume, Toji, Shoko, and Kento all share horrified expressions, but no one else is privy to the turmoil raging within your friend.

Hell, even Shoko doesn’t know the full extent, though you’re sure three shots of Everclear was enough to tip her off to something going on.

“I, uh-” Satoru pauses, shocked into uncertainty. “I didn’t mean-”

“Fuck you,” Sukuna spits with the most clarity you’ve heard in his speech all night, turning on his heel as he fishes for a cigarette in his pocket and slams the bar door open like it owes him money.

Your jaw hangs ajar, heat searing the skin of your cheeks as you flip around to face the table. You’re met with an equal amount of concern and confusion, but Toji seems to be the only one accustomed enough to Sukuna’s outbursts to bring some sense to the table.

“Way to fuckin’ go, asshole,” he grunts, smacking Satoru on the arm.

“What the hell?” The frat boy recoils, his shoulder knocking into Suguru, who seems to come to.

“What just happened?” Suguru voices what everyone is thinking.

Chewing absently on your lip, you cast a glance back at Sukuna, who you can barely make out against the dark background of the night sky outside the door. “I, um-” you stammer, turning back to the table.

“Go after him,” Uraume urges. They give you a reassuring nod when you hesitate. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

Nodding gratefully, you grab your jacket, shrugging it over your shoulders before jogging out the door.

Your friend doesn’t bother to cast you a glance as he leans against the outside of the bar, flicking ash from the end of his cigarette. The embers sputter out on the concrete below as he takes another long drag, exhaling deeply into the air overhead.

“Are you okay?”

Another drag of his cigarette. Another “fine”.

“Don’t give me that. You’re clearly not,” you push, an air of exasperation to your tone. You can’t help it anymore, of course you would get frustrated when he just won’t talk to you.

His eyes flicker down to you now, hazy with the effects of liquor.

“I know things are hard right now, but how many times do I need to tell you that I’m here for you before you listen?”

His gaze shifts down slightly, settling on your lips. When your words begin to sink in, his vision rises again. He takes another drag of his cigarette, holding his breath as the nicotine soothes his frustrations. Between the nicotine and Everclear, he finds himself oddly at ease, unbothered by the events that went down mere minutes ago.

The wounds are already bleeding, Satoru can’t push the knife that much deeper.

He just shrugs, brushing you off. “I feel fine, princess,” he mutters.

“Yeah I bet,” you scoff, staring out at the parking lot. “You’re just drunk.”

His brow furrows, too inebriated to make sense of this whole ordeal. Shouldn’t you be happy that he’s okay? That even after his blow-up with Satoru, he’s calm? So, why the hell are you so upset?

If he was in his right mind, he might get it. He might see just how frustrating he’s being.

But all he finds when he searches for answers is a sea of confusion.

“‘S that so bad?” He grunts. “Y’wanted me here, didn’t you?”

Turning back towards him, you rub at your temples in an effort to calm down. “I did. I do! but I thought…” you trail off, chewing on your lip as you compose yourself, straightening as you face him. “I thought it would be good for you- for both of us- to spend time with friends and have some drinks-”

“That not what’s goin’ on?” He interrupts, smoke coming out in puffs from his lips with each word.

You stop yourself in your tracks, blinking. Last time you saw him drunk, he’d still seemed in tune with his surroundings. His drinks were likely spread out over the course of multiple hours, watered down by a reasonable amount of soda. You’d be willing to guess he hadn’t had the equivalent of eight or so shots that night, though. He’d probably paced himself. Tonight, though, the liquor hit him hard and fast.

“You’ve had like three times as many drinks as the rest of us,” you point out, hoping he’ll read between the lines of your statement.

“So?”

But he’s far too drunk to be expected to do that. “So, you’re gonna black out if you don’t slow down!”

He’s undeniably very drunk, but even in his current state, he knows better than to say what he wants to say.

Which, in case you’re wondering, is another ‘so?’ but he holds his tongue.

Pushing himself up off the wall, he wobbles slightly as he drops his cigarette on the pavement, stomping it out beneath his boot. Like clockwork, he moves to his pocket to light another one, but your nimble fingers wrap around his wrist, stopping him before he can get the cylinder out of his jacket. He stares you down now, his expression unreadable behind droopy lids and the slight flush to his skin.

Your grip on his wrist tightens as you examine his features. He’s so painfully calm now that you find yourself questioning if you imagined his fight with Satoru. Could this even be the same Sukuna?

Day-to-day, you find yourself wondering how different Sukuna will be lately.

Hell, maybe even moment-to-moment.

You know he’s struggling to find himself amidst the maze of his complicated relationship with failure, but it’s like he’s fallen apart and in an effort to put the pieces back together, he’s been left with gaps.

Whatever version of him it is that stands before you now, he’s bitter and detached. Chewing hard on your lip, you smooth your thumb over his tattooed wrist. His muscles tense for an instant before relaxing under your soothing touch, as though he needs it more than he could even know, himself.

Even if it’s barely a sign, you see him then. Somewhere beneath the facade of indifference and haze of liquor, is your friend, terrified to his core over something that he can’t bring himself to talk about.

“What happened back there?” You ask, your entire demeanor softening.

His mind is stuck in a slog, slowed by his inebriation. It takes a moment for your words to settle in his mind.

“He just…” he trails off, his gaze never leaving your face. “Pissed me off.”

You can understand that, you know those two get under each other’s skin. But there’s more to it, and you know that.

“He didn’t know, Sukuna,” you point out. “He was just trying to get a rise out of you.”

Again, a pause as he thinks. “Yuji called-” he trips over his words, running his tongue over his lower lip as he steadies his mind. “- called me ‘dad’ when ‘e left.”

The air stills. The stars don’t twinkle overhead. The rumbling of distant engines comes to an unsettling halt as Sukuna’s muscles tense beneath your fingers. His hand balls into a fist, but whatever mix of anger, fear, and devastation it is that he feels is fleeting. He has nothing left to give. No tears to cry, no anger to let loose.

He’s tired.

Your lips part as horror shakes you to your core. Your grip on his wrist tightens, the air hanging heavy with his confession as it settles in just how much Satoru had accidentally gotten under Sukuna’s skin. Of course, he’s always struggled separating his duties as a brother with his duties as a guardian, but Satoru hadn’t just gotten under his skin.

He’d accidentally pushed the knife deeper.

That’s why Sukuna had blown up, even in his currently indifferent state.

“Kuna…” You breathe, giving him a small tug towards you until you can wrap your arms around his broad frame. He doesn’t move for a moment, blankly staring at you as his mind catches up. That extra moment allows your warmth to envelop him and his shoulders fall as he melts into your embrace, his eyes flickering shut as he holds you tightly.

Time stills around you as Sukuna shifts, his arms snaking tightly around your waist as he leans down to your level. His breath fans your neck as he rests his chin on your shoulder, letting out a long breath. Heat blooms at the base of your neck where his breath tickles you, rising to the tips of your ears. 

You’re sure he can feel, maybe even hear the way your heart races, but he’s too drunk to make heads or tails of it.

“I’m sorry, Kuna.”

He stiffens slightly as he hears his brothers’ voices in the back of his mind, calling out for him. Calling for Kuna. “‘S fine.”

“It’s not,” you pull back and his hands fall to your waist, resting as if they belong there. It certainly doesn’t do your heart any favors to have him holding you so tightly and painfully intimately. Worse still is the way his gaze holds heat that you’d recognize a mile away, but it’s also twisted with confusion. He’s staring at you with brows drawn together as though you’re a puzzle to figure out, but clings to you like you’re all that keeps him from the abyss he’s trapped in.

Feeling nothing is better than feeling everything at once. The intensity of his own emotions drove him to order Everclear in the first place as he struggled to keep up the mask of being okay. While he’ll take the haze it offers over the tumultuous water he’s been treading all week without help, you offer an escape from both.

It’s subconscious, the way he leans in closer, the way his eyes flicker to your lips as his body tells him what he wants so badly, but hasn’t had the guts to do.

And how can you not pick up on the signs? His lips part, his fingers curling into the plush of your skin as he yearns for nothing more than to let his eyes flutter shut and capture your lips with his own.

All these months, and your taste never left his tongue. He always pushed the thought away, figuring it was a figment of his imagination, but his yearning is real. Painfully so.

What is it that they say about these sorts of emotions? Drunken words are sober thoughts? Does it apply to actions, too?

But even at the brink of being blackout drunk, he can't.

Why is it that he's frozen, inches away from what he wants so badly?

Your eyes widen slightly at the close proximity, instinctively taking a step back when you feel the warmth of his chest against your own.

He’s just drunk, he’s just drunk, he’s just drunk-

The thought repeats itself in your mind like clockwork and you hesitantly place your hands on his chest, using enough pressure against the muscles to keep some breathing room between you.

His lips twitch downwards slightly at the pressure, trying to figure you out.

One moment he swears you’re in love with him still, and the next, he’s wondering if he’s read every sign wrong and Uraume led him astray. Maybe this isn’t what you want at all, and he can’t bear to step into another mistake he can’t come back from.

Fuck, he’s too drunk for this. So, he lets you press against his chest and put space between the both of you before anything can happen.

“Sukuna?” You barely whisper his name, a slight tremor to your hands against his broad chest.

His adam’s apple bobs, his tongue swiping across his lower lip as his mind races to catch up to his flurry of thoughts, but before he has a chance to reply, the door to your side swings open to reveal Uraume.

Their lips form an ‘O’ as they pause at the door, which swings shut behind them. Their gaze sweeps the position they’ve found you both in, before taking in Sukuna’s confused and hazy-eyed scowl and your shocked and confused blinking.

“Am I interrupting?”

“No, you’re good!” You squeak, stepping out of Sukuna’s grasp with little resistance. You exchange a glance with him, but can’t deduce much from his expression under the influence of entirely too much liquor.

They nod slowly, taking a step out towards the both of you.

“What happened back there, Sukuna?”

Frustrated as the same question is thrown at him again, he drags his hands down his face. His answer is largely the same to them as it was to you. “He pissed me off.”

“I gathered that,” Uraume replies sarcastically at his half-assed response, taking a step forward to stand at your side. “Are you alright?” They address you.

You nod, shooting them a smile.

Their attention returns to Sukuna again. “I know you’re upset with the loss of your brothers, but you mentioned a meeting with your lawyer. Things should be alright, no?”

Sukuna huffs dramatically, shaking his head before throwing his arms uselessly through the air. “‘T doesn’ fuckin’ matter anymore,” he mutters, instinctively reaching for another cigarette. Your skin itches to stop him, but you fear it’ll only make things worse if you do.

The chemicals pounding through his bloodstream keep him comfortably numb in the cool night air. The temperature is nearly freezing, preparing to leave behind a layer of early spring frost on the grass overnight, but none of you notice thanks to the blanket of warmth the shots you’ve all downed provides.

“Got no cash left,” he shrugs with one shoulder. “Doesn’ matter anyway. Lawyer thinks ‘s useless,” he tacks on with a puff of smoke.

Thinking back to his office on Tuesday morning, you think a part of you already knew he was broke. You’d seen the signs, but you’re sure the money can be scrounged up somehow. You’re more worried about the latter half of his statement as you finally get some answers out of him.

“What? What did she say?” You push, your own anxiety clawing at your chest as your breathing wavers.

Flicking ash to the ground, Sukuna exhales loudly, wracking his clouded mind for some semblance of the legal explanation she gave. “Courts c’n deny appeals, so she-” he pauses, narrowing his eyes as he recalls the conversation, “- she’s worried wi’out new evidence ‘r proof of some sort o’ bullshit in the trial, they might toss th’ case.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette, staring out at the parking lot blankly. The way he’s emotionlessly rattling off words makes you think that he might just be reciting what he heard in his own words, barely considering how either of you might react.

Your blood runs cold at the thought of the boys being alone with a mother they don’t know, without their anchor. The same goes for Sukuna, clearly adrift at sea without his own anchors as he slides headfirst into poor coping mechanisms.

“You need to fight, Sukuna,” you push, frantically glancing between him and Uraume. They may both remain calm, but you see through their silence. Sukuna is at wit’s end and Uraume simply knows how to keep a straight face.

Sukuna puffs smoke above him, languidly watching it swirl above him.

Your throat tightens as tears gather at your lash line. You attempt to blink them away, wrapping your arms around yourself at Sukuna’s signs of defeat. Your voice breaks when you push again. “You can’t give up, Kuna. They need you.”

“What d’ya want fr’m me?” He growls, exasperated as he turns to face you. “I tried!” He insists, throwing his hand through the air as smoke spirals around him with the action.

You chew on your lip, a warm tear spilling down your cheek as you stare at your feet. Sukuna backs down, turning towards the parking lot again as he takes another desperate drag of nicotine.

He just wants to forget. Forget about everything. The trial, his brothers, this moment. He wants it all gone. It’s easier.

Just once, he wants to take the easy way out.

“Have you looked through your files again for more evidence?” Uraume presses, remaining a beacon of calm as they set a hand on your trembling shoulder in reassurance.

“No point,” he huffs.

“Why not?”

Sukuna bristles, the constant questions getting under his skin. Is it too much to ask for a single day where he can let himself forget the bullshit? “‘Cause I did!” He barks, finally turning to face the both of you. “I fuckin’ did ‘lready!” He lets out a dry laugh. “I can’t- not again.” He grows quiet, jaw clenching as anguish seeps through his impassivity. “‘M tired,” he admits, barely audible over muffled laughter from within the bar.

You ache to reach out to him, but Uraume knows you both better than you seem to know yourselves.

“You don’t need to go through the documents alone.”

Sukuna’s empty gaze meets Uraume’s, before his eyes slide back to the parking lot.

“Go inside,” they urge you quietly, squeezing your shoulder. “We’ll be in soon.” You open your mouth to protest, but they cut you off. “Please. I’d like a moment.”

Solemnly, you finally find it in yourself to nod, wiping your tears as you turn towards the door with an uncertain glance at Sukuna. As the door shuts behind you, Uraume takes a moment to take in just how far gone any semblance of the Sukuna they know is.

“Why didn’t you say anything after your meeting?”

He grits his teeth, his grip on the cigarette between his fingers tightening. Three shots of Everclear had him thinking he’d escaped this strangled nightmare, yet here he still is, still floating adrift at sea.

When his head simply hangs as he remains silent, Uraume continues pushing. “Why wouldn’t you ask for help?”

“B’cause ‘m done!” He barks, whipping around to face them with only half as much fury as he musters on a bad day. He shrugs dramatically, his arms making a plop! sound as the leather of his sleeves makes contact with the sides of the jacket. “Jus’ leave me-” he swallows suddenly, forcing the lump in his throat down as nausea rocks him a step forward. “Christ,” he moans as the urge to vomit comes over him.

He can’t pinpoint the cause in this state, but he doesn’t want to feel the Everclear coming back up.

He can keep a straight face as it burns his throat on the way down, but he doesn’t want to think about that taste coming back up.

“What happened to the man that wouldn’t give up for his brothers?” Uraume pushes.

Holding his head, Sukuna groans again. “Dunno,” he replies simply, not taking any real time to consider their words.

Uraume frowns, crossing their arms over their chest. “I’m taking you home.”

“‘M fine, fuck off.”

Ignoring him, they turn back towards the door. “Wait here. I’ll go pay for our drinks.” The ambient laughter and clinking spills out into the open night air as Uraume holds the door for a moment, pausing before they head back inside. “By the way, figure your feelings out for her,” they jut their chin out in the direction of the table where you’re seated with your friends once again. “Don’t mess with her just because you’re drunk.”

With that, they leave Sukuna outside to mull over their words, knowing fully well nothing will sit well with him in his current state.

The table is in a general state of confusion still when Uraume reappears as Satoru attempts to make sense of what the hell he’d just unraveled. His array of questions are met with an overall frustrating silence as those who’re aware of Sukuna’s situation struggle not to give out too many details. Tough, when the cat’s now out of the bag. It doesn’t take a lot to figure out that Sukuna, to some extent, has kids.

Uraume’s reappearance brings all eyes to them.

“How is ‘e?” Toji queries.

“I’m taking him home. I don’t think he should be alone, I plan on staying the night,” they explain, digging through their wallet to pull out some cash and set it in front of you. “That should cover him and I.”

You nod, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ as you wipe your tears. They shoot you a sympathetic smile.

Sniffling, you do what you can to ignore your own devastation. No matter how much you love his brothers like family, you don’t get to call the shots. You can’t fight for them, and you can’t force Sukuna to fight.

It doesn’t make it any easier, though.

The idea of Yuji losing the only person he knows as his guardian forms a lump in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. As silently as possible, you sharply inhale a shaky breath.

It hurts. It hurts and you’re helpless, unable to do anything but cry, which feels painfully like defeat.

Even if he gives up, you’re not ready to give up. But what are you supposed to do? You can’t pull new evidence out of thin air. You can’t find evidence of an unfair trial when Kaori made sure her arguments were airtight.

You’re lost, too. In your own way.

You take another deep breath, steadying yourself as best as you can, even as anguish pushes the knife deeper and deeper, with no plans on leaving your heart unscathed.

Sukuna’s going through more, you remind yourself. You can’t let yourself break when he clearly needs you. No matter how thin you spread yourself, you need to remain strong for him. Because no matter how lost you feel, you can only imagine he feels worse.

Maybe it’s the wrong way of looking at things, but you want to be his rock. You’ll figure out your classes, your paper, your exams. You’ll figure it all out while you’re still there for him. He needs a hand, whether he’s willing to admit it or not, and you’ll be there with your hand out when he’s ready to accept that.

Even if he isn’t ready to accept it.

So you steel yourself, unwilling to fall to your own issues. His are greater, you can’t allow yourself to crumble under less.

“Let us know when you get to his place,” Atsuya chips in, chewing on a toothpick.

Uraume nods solemnly. “Got it. I’ll text you.”

Your heart drops as they turn to walk away, concern twisting your puffy features. Shoko’s arm wraps around your shoulders as she pulls you into a side hug. “Have some drinks. Have fun. He’ll be okay. You deserve to have fun tonight.”

You want to believe her, you really do.

But you just find yourself wondering how long Sukuna can last like this, lost in a battle with his own demons.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

❦ a/n ; everyone is struggling :')

i know i say it a lot, but thank you all so much for all the support, from the bottom of my heart <33 it really does mean the world and all of your kind words constantly have me itching to keep writing.

i'm really, really looking forward to working on and sharing the next chapter too, we'll get a lot more insight into sukuna's life before reader and just how much kaori absolutely sucks (as if you all didn't already know that LOL)

anyway, thank you sm as always, ily all <33

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

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writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

[revacholreverie]

X7/Locust City Act's V Plot Details, Tasks, and Endings!

hi everyone! I created a new sideblog EXCLUSIVELY so that I can post this text (I figured my main account is shadowbanned or smth) ANYWAY

you can read the 1-5 Acts' Summaries done by @parasolemn! They've done an amazing job and I wanted to take part in deciphering too, hehe

note: English is not my first language therefore word-guessing can be pretty hard for me. There are some minor places I couldn't undestand so I would highly appreciate your help!

UPD 10/04/2025 @parasolemn kindly helped to fill in some lacunas I had in Endings! At the weekend I'll try to edit other gaps myself

PLOT DETAILS ACT V

So what is Cunoesse’s story?

Cunoesse has brought Cuno to Hämärä Maa as a replacement for a kid she drowned three years ago.

Cuno and Jaakko – the drowned kid – don’t have much in common. Both are/were boys with red hair, and about the same build but that’s about it. Only a child’s mind would come up with a plan to replace the dead kid with an ‘identical’ one so she’d be accepted back in her tribe.

But Cuno can’t just be like Jaakko, he has to *become* Jaakko.

The Suru(?) have a coming-of-age rite that involves drinking a brew made of the bone marrow of a blind underwater cave fish. This experience has sometimes profound, sometimes devastating effect on one’s consciousness.

Perhaps this “Naming Ceremony” doesn’t happen until the Hämäräns are 10 years old, so that’s why Cunoesse never got her name, and this is the pretense under which she lures Cuno into the ceremony – a name for herself (but Cuno doesn’t know it’s also going to be a new name for him.)

Cunoesse believes that if she subjects Cuno to this ceremony and “spirit guides” him through this process Cuno might actually *become* Jaakko. Or at least accept he’s Jaakko now. She’s been laying foundation for this transformation throughout this whole journey.

Cunoesse’s people thought her dead, drowned with the boy. Hardly anyone could recognize her at first sight.

Maybe Cunoesse hid the body (under a rock in one of the caves) before she fled Hämärä Maa, so in her mind no-one can definitively claim the kid she brought back isn’t Jaakko.

Psychedelic Sequence

We want this to be a truly visually … and spectacular setpiece where you can bind the rules of everything <…> and apply dream logic.

The entire underwater showdown will be in FELD.

We can depart form/ play with the … perspective, switching into a side-view showing the vastness of the dark screen, with the C&C small figures sinking.

Experiment with overlays, filters as well as tainted and/or 3D mode/ed addictions (??) in the scene, showing people, motifs and icons elements from their journey. There can be lots of … with the visual elements reflecting decisions the players has made throughout the game.

Competitive Red Checks are the key now feature we want to test here, to create unique playthroughs and the impression of truly “fighting yourself” as the rolled value of Cuno or Cunoesse’s Red Checks affects the difficulty of the other’s counter attack.

For the first time, … and commune with each other.

Cunoesse comes out of the trip with +1 Psyche is she lives.

Blue notes:

Multiple life/death outcomes.

Swarm/Locust City side-plot reaches its conclusion.

New home for Locusts

Funeral cultural event

(another note totally unreadable for me, sorry)

_____________________________________

TASKS ACT V

The path through Act V is still largely TBD

In its bare minimum implementation Hämärä Maa could have the same density as the Deserter’s Island finale of Disco Elysium, where the game’s entire conclusion is communicated through a small number of characters – three very extensive and immersive dialogues (one of which is a stylized dream sequence) followed by a posse epilogue. Although railroaded, Disco’s finale had a “page-turning” quality to it that we should aim for as going too much into the mundane idle of the Hämärans would kill the pacing. However, since the entire journey has been about getting to the island, we should give the player at least a little more to see and do than the Deserter’s Island did.

An example of how the task chain at Hämärä Maa could look:

Face Cunoesse’s folks

Find a new home for the Locust City.

Learn how the brew works

Make the brew

Go to the caves

Survive the caves

Bring “Jaakko” to his parents.

Reactivity/Outcomes

Cuno drowns and Cunoesse is this time for real exited by her people

Cunoesse drowns and Cuno returns to Jamrock alone.

ENDINGS

Ending 1 – Jaakko Ending

Location: Hämärä Maa

Cunoesse is alive, Cuno is brainwashed

Notes:

Cunoesse’s manipulations worked. Cuno has fully internalized Jaakko.

The scene closes with Cuno diving dead-eyed among the Hämäran boys. He’s one of them now.

Loss of Identity. No more Cuno-sentences.

Ending 2 – Pale Ending

Cunoesse is dead, Cuno is alive

Location: Tréville, deserted

Notes:

With Cunoesse dead, Hämärä Maa holds nothing for Cuno anymore. He turns back, aimless.

He lands back in Tréville and finds it deserted. The prison has finally moved.

Cuno sits with him. With Cunoesse’s death, Cuno’s prison has left him too. The thing about freedom is that no one tells you where to go.

Cuno waits with the prisoner indefinitely. We fade to white and roll credits.

Ending 3 – Bad Ending

Cunoesse is dead, Cuno is dead

No notes, no location

Ending 4 – Circle Ending

Cunoesse is alive, Cuno is dead

Notes:

With Cuno dead and her plan failed Cunoesse must exile herself from Hämärä Maa again.

She goes into another Murder Hangover, back to sleep and hibernation.

The Internal Skull(?) announces “A new epoch of timekeeping is beginning”

(two another unreadable notes for me)

Ending 5? – New Tribe Ending

Cunoesse is alive, Cuno is alive

No notes, no location

[theladybrownstarot]

Future Spouse first impression V/s Yours

❀ Here's my masterlist for more !

❀ Make sure you like/follow/Comment/reblogg for more pacs like these !

❀ This pac will be guiding you to how to manifest your connection with some channeld messages from them

Pile 1 . Pile 2. Pile 3.

𐙚 Pile 1 .

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's get with your reading :-

❀ Their first impression over you :

Okay , pile 1, from what I can see feel read and understand is that this person is gonna think of you someone as a hopeful person , even when you are in difficulty you will get instant solution . I guess when you will be meeting them you two or either one of you maybe going thru some problems and one of you will offer help .

They may see you as someone serious also . they feel that light and passion dripping from your eyes and melting their hearts to see as who you are . they will see you as someone brave , passionate , bold , honest , warrior or fighter , someone who stands out among everyone , someone who they can depend on wow pile 1 hands up to you ! this person is gonna study you like their favorited subjects .

They will see you as someone who doesn't give up and really you will be their type they had like to be passionate with . They think that you expect honesty from everyone and really they will do same for you ..they will show who are they like in actual to win your heart and they do see you as someone rational and smart and someone who is good at proving their logic.

It is possible that you may appear cold , defensive and bit egotist but its okay because for them you will matter most . this is gonna be an instant strong attraction for them .

❀ Your first impression of them :-

okay pile 1 are you ready for it ?! lets dive in buds, hmm so it maybe possible that you will actually feel like " finally I found you at last" when you will meet this person for sure . I can see you thinking about them as an achiever ; who got may accomplishment . this person is gonna astound you up for sure haha .

you will see them as someone is who is giving , loving , caring and who got people to support them . I can see you as if you will feel like he\she is my pure air to breathe under in forever . I feel this person is very good by heart and nature . you will think of them as someone calm , rich , luxurious by their nature , appearance and personality . they are an extrovert for sure , but ig u may even thin that this person may give a lot but in end may sometime get in trouble but I also feel that this person won't hold grudges because they don't care about people , they have best emotional and mental control babies and i guess you want someone like them . This will be a dream come true for sure for y'all .

𐙚❀˖° How to manifest with connection fast ?

you need to be expressive of your emotions and about yourself so you can transfer and spread your energy in this crowded world to signal them .

𐙚❀˖° Channeled Messages From Them :-

(1) just hang in there my love im coming so don't be sad I will save you up from the darkness .

(2) meet more people and find me darlo , I m around you haha .

(3) with you my life seems more prosperous and I will be blessed to u have you as my greatest gift .

𐙚 Pile 2 .

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's get with your reading :-

❀ Their first impression of You :-

so i see that this person will think of you as someone strong minded or we say overall strong in nature . someone who can take a stand alone for themselves in the worst situations , someone really positive during hard times. aah i see self made individuals an mature people .i see leo and sun astrologically by vision . they will see you someone who is really charming even when you are silent .

okay , it must be possible that when you will meet this person you will a some sort of breakup or breakdown out there . this person will want to hug and console you for sure . i don it just hit me maybe when you cry you look more beautiful . or it maybe at least case that they had a breakup when they met you .

They will see you someone very charming , transparent , innocent , clear minded, focused , beautiful for sure .

❀ Your first impression of them :-

Okay , i can see you seeing them haha someone of a dominant personality lmao . this person ur future wife/ husband basically will be of an obsessive of nature . you may see them as someone who may restrict or cross boundaries of someone else . they person will be strong minded for sure . they will be strategic . could be boss or into military or police service . they will be muscular .

since i you will see them who is clear headed to do achieve the aim . they aren't that dominant to but can be little bit more caring . its possible that this person is gonnaaa be lazyy uff ... and could be that isn't that adventurous or stuck somewhere in their life ..will be having some transition and will be kinda scared or confused to how to go through this transformation . maybe you can help them somewhere.

𐙚❀˖° How to manifest this connection fast ?

SO , u may meet them at some sort of celebration or something maybe a party . you need to maintain your ownself like be careful of what you do and think plus be yourself ! enjoy your life .

𐙚❀˖° Channeled Messages from Them :-

(1) You know i need some time ; i'm stuck try now .

(2) I will come to you when you will show you real self .

(3) I want to have a happy family with you . i wanna take care of you as a queen/king of my life and will be loyal to .

(4) I want some rest i'm tired mentally .

𐙚 Pile 3 .

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's get with your reading :-

❀ Their first impression over you :-

Okay , I sense that this person will think of you as someone who is doing alot of self love or we say someone who is interested in themselves.

They won't be shocked to see you at first instead I see them as being like I wanna be with her/him even If I have to let go of things .

I see that u maybe would have left toxic people behind in your life to know and establish your own self worth and this person will sense same .

They Will daydream about u and their scenarios in Mind haha ♡ cute ! They will see you as someone beautiful and maybe one part of ur body is chubby like 🧸 ♡ .

❀ Your first impression of them :-

Okay , it feels like that you may not notice them as you must be having some fights and mental conflicts and even when you will see this person you may see them as someone smart, observant and intelligent. Your Mind will be playing games with you tbh . You will feel shy infront of this person.

For some people OR few I see that u may see them as someone who is experienced and matured after prolong emotional breakage .like bad relationship experience and failures ect or vice - versa .

It might be possible that you will get people saying that no bro don't focus on that person,that person is mine kinda jealousy vibes tbh .

I see for most of the people that u will be meeting them during high-school time.

𐙚❀˖° How to manifest this connection fast ?

You are being told to cooperate with others . To ask help from others like your friends or colleague to recommend some choices and all . For least to go on a trip of some sort .

𐙚❀˖° Channeled Messages from them :-

(1) show ur strength but be In a flow .

(2) I'm so attracted to you that I wanna take you from everyone ,just to trap u and protect u in my heart .

(3) you are my most unexpected gift from divine and universe .

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[twin-fawns-guzzling-the-gullet]

My scatterbrain thinkthonks on Quarantine: - The conspicuous absence of Mark Imortell & all the usual theatrics at the start has me wondering if Dankovsky is so deep inside his little labyrinthine mind castle of denial he‘s completely blocked that aspect out. Completely lost in his role and consumed by his desire for self-determination. OR is IPL forgoeing that framing completely in favor of something else?

- In Pathologic 2 we had larva, cocoon, imago difficulty. Maria Kaina calling Artemy a "cocoon man." Now we have butterflies everywhere. Haruspex = generic insect in development, Bachelor = fully developed fluttery Butterfly of Fancy, Changeling = ???? A praying mantis egg???? I feel like she‘d be something egg coded bc she‘s this paradoxical, holistic potentiality. Chaos and order, cure and plague, saint and shabnak etc. Im seeing things

- Wheels wheels wheels. Huge threatening Wheel. Mindmap Wheel. Merry-go-rounds. Drying racks with half-wheel shapes. The wheel of dharma - love that in plague districts the black plague vapors emenate strictly from the soil. Of course Dankovksy would percieve the sand plague as this crude, soil bonre malaise. Whereas in Patho2 its sentient airborne soot hmmm - Yakov Little and his little tragedian pin >.< let there be merch

- Idk how the film aspect fits into things, to me its a metaphor for how Dankovsky‘s mind thinks about time or even reality. I dimly recall from reading The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction a passage where Benjamin goes on about how the invention of film technology allowed for a scientifically precise manipulation of its subjects, as opposed to traditional fine arts. Or something. Maybe ill re-read it and write something actually insightful about that lol

- also really dig the dissociation the film filter implies at high apathy

- My hunch about the Inspector is that he‘s a sort of mental projection of self-condemnation which allows Dankovsky to twist his memories of past events into something he can find peace with. Maybe he is Death personally. Or perhaps the devil? Or a simple bureaucrat of purgatory? A (in)spectator to his kopfkino? What I can‘t decide is if a) Danknovsky‘s on his deathbed again or b) Dankovksy‘s stuck in the polyhedron eternally while all this unfolds - paranoid mindmap thoughts are fun. Metanarratively speaking, Dankovsky‘s not wrong that its all been rigged against him from the start lol - speaking strictly from a gameplay angle (narratively its fitting dankovsky‘s always 5 minutes away from offing himself if completely unattended ig) the apathy/mania bar maybe needs some tweaks? Having to tend to it every second with action is kinda, hm. Spammish? It would be ideal if I did have to worry every second about how I am going to stay sane in the forseeable future the same way I had to think constantly about how and where i am going to get food in patho 2. Maybe having consumables be more scarce would help. Or if the meter were more dynamic/reactive. Like, if the Stillwater is the place where Danko can breathe a little, he shouldn‘t have to be dashing to the piano every two minutes to play some notes so he doesnt start losing it. THOUGH ON THE OTHER HAND I love the idea of a constantly fidgeting jittery Daniil Dankovksy The Mean Stim Machine. I am coflicted

- love how to Dankovsky the steppe is filled with ordinary thristles and flowies - whats up with all the little bird houses everywhere? More air symbolism like the butterflies? - was a bit surprised they droped the "Simon Kain let the plague in on purpose" plotpoint in the the demo already. For people new to the franchise that‘d be kinda huge no? The whole mystery of why the plague broke out at all. Dont remember when that comes up in p1. Guess they have new suspenseful mysteries for us now

[ccwritesninja]

The Visit-Itachi

A/N: You guys will have to tell me if the way I weave in Itachi's memories is confusing or not. I'm kind of playing around with the format of that. Let me know what you think! If you guys like this series feel free to visit my Ao3 or leave a comment, even if it's just smashing your keyboard. That way I know you guys want more!

Read on Ao3 Part 1 Part 2

Itachi’s self control was waning. 

Over the years, he had managed to bury the feelings he still held for you deep under the surface. They always remained, slowly eating at him, but the pain had been bearable.

That was no longer true. 

A fire had erupted inside his chest the moment he laid eyes on you in those woods.

You flashed through his mind nearly every night, often playing the starring role in his dreams or nightmares. Some nights he would wake, well-rested and at peace, with the sound of your laugh ringing in his ears. On others, he would bolt up with a gasp, sure your screams were still echoing somewhere nearby. 

He would spend the rest of the morning attempting to wipe the image of you bleeding out in his arms from his mind.

He sent a summons to the Uchiha compound nearly every week now. It was the only way he could dispel the constant dreams. If he knew you and Sasuke were alright, his thoughts wouldn’t drift to you so much. 

Tonight, his crow hovered on the grounds, peering down from a high tree branch. A glowing, yellow moon hung in the sky, illuminating you and Sasuke as you squared off atop the stream that ran past the compound. 

It appeared that you were coaching his little brother through a taijutsu spar.

Itachi was impressed that you had added the difficulty of water-walking. Sasuke likely needed the extra challenge if he was preparing for his chunin exams. 

He felt a pang in his chest as he realized that you always seemed to know exactly what his brother needed, better than he ever had. 

You moved smoothly, easily blocking Sasuke’s frantic barrage of attacks. He was relentless, striking blow after blow, but you were faster and more experienced. Even with his newly acquired sharingan, he had a long way to go.

“You need to turn your upper body when you kick,” you commented, ducking as Sasuke sent one toward your head. “It’ll give you more control.”

Your foot shot out, landing a swift kick of your own to his chest. He flew back with a grunt, tumbling across the water. He managed to keep himself above the surface.

“It should be second nature to you by now,” you continued. “Just like your teamwork should be.”

Sasuke shoved himself up and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Kakashi told me you don’t get along with your team.”

He scoffed. “Naruto’s an idiot, and Sakura only cares about dating me.”

“So why don’t you encourage them to improve their skills instead of writing them off?”

He sent a punch flying toward your face, which you quickly avoided. When you went to land another kick, Sasuke blocked it with his forearms. 

“Because they’re not my problem!”

“Of course they are,” You shot back, twisting and swiping his legs out from under him. “If your team isn’t capable, then it doesn’t matter how good you are individually. You’ll never pass these exams.”

He grunted as he shoved himself up on hands and knees. “Easy for you to say. You fell in love with your captain. Not everyone gets along that easily.”

A laugh erupted from your chest as you peered down at him. 

“Sasuke…do you think I liked Itachi at first?”

His eyes narrowed. His brother was always a touchy subject with him, but you figured this might be safe territory, considering he was the one who brought him up.

“Didn’t you?”

“No. I couldn’t stand him.”

“But the two of you were always so…”

You felt a pang in your chest. “In love?”

“Yeah.”

You sighed and sat down next to him. “I guess we were, but it took me a while to see who he really was. At first, I thought he was this puritanical, arrogant asshole.”

Itachi smiled to himself. No, you hadn’t been fond of him at all. It took a long time to prove himself, to show you that he was someone you could truly trust. Someone that wouldn’t hurt you.

Your love was hard-won, but every moment had been worth it. And what had Itachi done with that love, that trust?

He had gone and thrown it back in your face the second he slaughtered the clan. The brutal ache of regret returned in full force as he watched the two of you talk.

In another world, another life, maybe the three of you would be training together. Itachi would fall asleep next to you at night, and wake, limbs intertwined with yours, in the morning. He would steal kisses when he thought Sasuke wasn’t looking, and laugh at his little brother’s noises of disgust when he caught you.

“Well, maybe your instincts were right,” Sasuke muttered.

Itachi didn’t blame him for thinking it, and he wouldn’t have blamed you either. He was slightly surprised when you jumped to his defense.

 “No. I wasn’t. No matter what happened after.”

“Whatever.”

“You know, it was how deeply he cared for you that made me realize it in the first place.”

The sullen, pensive look had returned to Sasuke’s face. You didn’t continue, likely knowing that talking about Itachi any longer would anger him.

“Come on,” you urged, standing back up on the water. “Let’s go again…and just promise me you’ll work with your teammates, okay? There will be plenty of times that they’ll end up having to save your ass, and vice versa.”

Itachi found himself agreeing as he peered through the crow’s eyes. He remembered those times quite fondly. 

He dispelled the summons and returned to the tiny inn room he and Kisame were sharing. He slipped beneath the threadbare sheets, still mulling over your words.

During his early days in the ANBU, he often stared death in the face with you on one side and Shisui on the other. The three of you always managed to make it out in one piece, despite how dire those situations seemed. Things might have turned out differently if you didn’t trust each other implicitly.

He remembered one such mission when you had turned the tide by drowning a hoard of Suna nin in a crushing wave. Large bodies of water were scarce there, and most of them had never learned to swim. Itachi and Shisui had picked the others off easily. Without you, the team would have been slaughtered.

The problem came on the journey back, when the team was halfway to the Leaf village. 

Itachi had watched you falter as you kicked off from a branch. One moment you were in front of him and, the next, you were falling through the air, heading for impact with the hard ground below.

Itachi swooped after you and caught you in his arms. He called out to Shisui, and his cousin doubled back as Itachi laid you down in the cool grass.

His fingers curled around the edges of your porcelain mask, lifting it to reveal your face. Your eyes were distant and glazed over. When you looked up at him, it was like you hardly recognized him, like you were somewhere else entirely.

It terrified him.

“Y/n? What’s happening?”

“It-it burns.”

Your breath was beginning to quicken. A hot flush colored your cheeks, but the rest of your skin was deathly pale. 

“Where?” Itachi demanded. “Where were you hit?”

“I d-didnt think-”

“Y/n, where?”

Your trembling fingers reached up, clutching at your left shoulder. Itachi was ripping off your vest faster than you could blink. He unfastened the first few buttons of your jonin shirt and tugged the fabric from the spot you pointed out. 

There was a small puncture mark in your skin, barely even bleeding. Something dark and purple oozed from the wound.

Shisui let out a low whistle. “Oh man.”

“Poisoned senbon,” Itachi murmured. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t realize-“

You gasped, unable to finish the sentence as a sudder of pain wracked your body. The edges of your vision were beginning to grow black. Darkness was creeping in, threatening to pull you under.

 Itachi and Shisui’s hushed, worried voices filtered in through the haze. Something sharp pricked at the skin of your arm. 

Shinobi from Suna were partial to using poison as a weapon. It was discreet, and the scorpions and snakes that made home in their deserts offered a plethora of ingredients. Luckily, every Leaf shinobi carried antidotes for those common poisons, and you were sure they had just injected you with one. 

Soon, your shaky, shallow breaths began to even out. Your vision cleared, and you could see two sets of worried eyes gazing down at you. 

Itachi noticed that a bit of color was returning to your cheeks, but your body was still weakened. You couldn’t even stand up by yourself. 

“We’ll rest here,” he decided.

He eased you onto your bedroll as they set up camp. You felt useless as you watched them through half-lidded eyes, wrapped in three different blankets.

Shisui sat next to you, carrying on a mostly one-sided conversation as he tended to a pot hanging over the fire. He was telling you about some waitress he was trying to ask out back in the village, but she was unreceptive to his flirting.

“Maybe she just doesn’t like you,” you mumbled.

The comment drew a soft laugh from Itachi, who was setting up the tent somewhere behind you.

Shisui scoffed. “No. That’s definitely not it…you’re mean when you’re sick, Y/n.”

An unsympathetic hum left your lips. Shisui continued rambling, and your eyes slipped shut as you listened to the familiar sound of his voice. 

You were half-asleep when Itachi was finished, but you felt him scooping your body into his arms. You shivered against him as he brought you into the tent.

He laid you gently onto the bedroll and tucked the blankets tighter around you.

“Are you still cold?”

You nodded. Itachi frowned.

You weren’t that far from the desert, and nights near the Suna border carried a brutal chill that seeped into one’s bones. You would only get colder as the night went on. 

“What can I do?”

You shook your head, eyes still closed as you attempted to burrow deeper into the blankets. “Nothing.”

“I could warm you,” he began. “Body heat-”

Your eyes shot open, wide and panicked. “No.” 

The word was barked through gritted teeth.

 Most shinobi had an aversion to being touched, but Itachi had noticed you were particularly wary of it. He hated to make you uncomfortable, but he couldn’t keep sitting there, watching you shiver.

“You asked me during the battle if I trusted you. Do you trust me?”

You eyed him warily for a few moments. “Yes.”

“Let me help,” he urged.

Finally, you nodded. He slid into the bedroll beside you and pulled you flush against him.

You waited for the rush of nausea, for the crawling, itchy feeling that you always got when someone was this close to you. It never came.

Maybe it was because your body was still neutralizing the poison. You were freezing, and Itachi was hot to the touch, like a furnace.

You found yourself snuggling deeper against him, relishing in the heat of his skin.

You trembled in his arms, both from the chill and the waves of pain that occasionally wracked your body. You endured it quietly, aside from the occasional whimper or hiss of pain that left your lips. 

Itachi held you tighter during these moments, running a soothing hand down your hair. Sasuke always found the touch comforting when he wasn’t feeling well, so Itachi figured you might too.

“D-do you…”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever wish we didn’t have to do this?”

“Do what?”

“Kill.”

Itachi’s breath caught in his throat. “All the time.”

You didn’t respond. After what felt like hours, you had settled into a peaceful sleep. The shaking had stopped, and you were now snuggled against him. 

He listened to your soft little sighs as they puffed against his collarbone. It was soothing, having you so close to him. He knew you were capable of taking care of yourself, but there was something about having you tucked against him, unguarded and relaxed, that caused a warmth to stir in his chest.

Shisui had slipped into the tent at some point, shooting him a knowing look. Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut. Itachi disentangled himself from you, gently easing you back on the bedroll so he could start his watch shift.

He stepped out into the cool night, still relishing the burn of your skin against his.

That memory of that night never left him.

Was that the moment he had fallen in love with you? Or had it been that day in the woods, after you had taken down that disgusting client? Maybe it was the time when you met him and his cousin at the compound to prepare for an upcoming mission, and spent half an hour entertaining Sasuke as Shisui finished packing. You had obediently listened to him babble and helped him practice his shuriken jutsu with enthusiasm.

When Itachi thought about it, he decided that his feelings had flowered during all these moments, until finally, he realized he was completely in love with you.

That had never changed, not even in the years after he slaughtered his clan and ran from the village. He had been a child then, and while all his fairytale notions of love had since been dispelled, the burning desire to be by your side remained. 

That fire was only stoked when he found you dying. You had smiled up at him, delirious from blood loss, with warmth and affection in your eyes. Even after everything he had done, despite all the ways he hurt you, you still felt the same.

What had Itachi done to deserve such devotion? He had only caused you pain and disrupted the entire course of your life. 

He rolled onto his side and peered out the smudged window of the inn. The glowing moon hung there, covered occasionally by puffy, drifting clouds. It was the same moon that hung over you and Sasuke. You were under the same sky, yet so far from him. Unreachable.

One day, he would make it back to you. He would repay you for everything you had done for him, for his brother. Even if he had to die to do so.

—

You were already late. 

This mission was supposed to be simple. Guarding a daimyo and his wife as they traveled through the Land of Fire. Mercifully, no bandits or thieves had shown themselves. There hadn’t been a battle the entire week of the trip.

The only problem was that your two charges liked to dawdle. 

Every roadside stand, every restaurant and storefront was a necessary stop. You were already a day behind schedule. 

You walked along their caravan as it rumbled over the uneven forest path, stewing in your thoughts. Your partner, Raido, simply shrugged when you attempted to urge them along.

“This is the cushiest mission I’ve been on in months,” he muttered to you. “What’s your problem?”

“I have something important I need to get back for.”

“Oh yeah?” He grinned, causing the veiny scar on his left cheek to tug upward. “Something or someone?”

You shot him a nasty glare. He threw up his hands in surrender and moved to the front of the convoy, keen to avoid your wrath. “Sorry I asked.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t have the heart to respond.

Sasuke was going to be livid. You promised you would be back the night before to help him prepare for the chunin exams. Extra training, his favorite meal, whatever he needed, you were going to do it. 

You had broken your promise. You had let him down, again.

It was another two days until you made it back to the village. You heard the preliminary rounds typically lasted several days, so there was no way you would be able to see Sasuke until his team finished. At that point, he would already know if he passed or failed.

You scribbled your mission report down onto a scroll in the Hokage’s tower, ignoring the odd look on Raido’s face. You rushed to turn it in and, as you hurried down the hall, you noticed two familiar jonin walking in the opposite direction.

“Eventful day, huh?” Genma muttered to Anko, sticking a senbon between his teeth.

“I just hope that Uchiha kid is alright.” 

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her trench coat, looking agitated. You froze, glancing back over your shoulder as they passed.

“Anko,” you called. “What did you just say?”

She paled at the sight of you. Genma’s teeth clicked tensely around the senbon in his mouth. 

“Oh, uh, Y/n, hey!” She seemed to be forcing a grin onto her face. 

“Did you just say something about Sasuke?”

She fidgeted, anxiously rubbing at the back of her neck. “Yeah, uh, he had a bit of a rough go in the preliminaries…”

“He won his fight,” Genma chimed in. “He just needed to get patched up at the hospital.”

Your stomach sank. “He’s in the hospital?”

Regret washed over you. Why couldn’t that godforsaken mission have gone any faster?

Anko elbowed Genma sharply in the ribs. He attempted to muffle his grunt of pain as he doubled over, fixing her with a sharp glare.

“Listen-“ she began.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

The scroll slipped from your fingers and fell, forgotten, onto the tiled floor. You rushed through the halls of the tower, cursing yourself for not being there, once again. Even though you might not have been able to witness the preliminary rounds, you still could have been by Sasuke’s side when he was admitted to the hospital. 

You raced through the village, rushing past carts and shoving through crowds of civilians. When you burst into the hospital, Kakashi was already there, slouching in the corner of the waiting room.

“Y/n.”

He quickly tucked away the book he had been thumbing through and rose from the chair.

“What happened?” You demanded, crossing your arms over your chest. “Genma told me he was hurt in his fight.”

Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. “Not exactly…”

“What the hell could have happened to him on our own training grounds?”

“Well, even training can be dangerous.”

Your shoulders tensed. He was being purposefully vague. Why wasn’t he telling you what happened? 

You stepped forward, feeling the unbridled rage building in your chest before you could tamp it down. “Kakashi-“

A nervous chuckle escaped his lips when he noticed the glint in your eyes. You weren’t above kicking him straight through the wall behind him, and he knew that. “Calm down-“

“Excuse me?”

He swallowed audibly. People were beginning to stare. The nurses behind the front counter began to whisper to each other. 

“We’ll have to speak privately,” he murmured. “It’s important that we-“

“I need to see Sasuke.”

“Alright. We can-”

“Alone.”

If he wasn’t going to tell you what happened, you would ask Sasuke yourself.

Kakashi sighed. He was too tired to argue, and you would see the boy’s condition soon enough. “Room 203.”

You turned on your heel, still frustrated at his lack of explanation. Kakashi was, once again, all about the mission. You didn’t care what orders he received. You were Sasuke’s guardian and you had a right to know what happened.

He was going to lose it when he saw you. You readied yourself for the sullen glare and sharp insults as you took the stairs two at a time. As you neared the room, you realized that you were the least of Sasuke’s worries.

Through the glass of the double doors, you could see him lying in the bed, motionless. The next thing you noticed was all the tubes connected to him. An oxygen mask was placed over his mouth and nose, and his eyes were covered and wrapped in bandages. The soft, sterile beep of a heart monitor echoed through the room.

Your blood ran cold at the sight. You remained frozen in the hallway, desperately trying to fight the urge to fall to your knees. You might have, if not for the unfamiliar figure that was leaning over the bed. 

A boy, who looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, with long, silver hair tied back in a low ponytail. Too young to be a doctor, but a medic nin, maybe?

He raised his hand, and that was when you caught the glint of the scalpel.

You were instantly body-flickering into the room, striking out at the figure with a water whip. It coiled around his wrist and jerked it back, leaving the scalpel to hover above Sasuke’s sleeping form. 

Several bodies littered the floor around you, either unconscious or dead. They were all dressed in the standard animal masks and grey vests reserved for ANBU agents. They had obviously been guarding Sasuke, but why?

The boy glanced toward you and laughed, seemingly unphased.

“Well, well. You made it after all. It’s a shame you didn’t get to see Sasuke’s first match.”

He reached up, adjusting his round glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose.

“Who the hell are you?” 

You flexed your hand, tightening the flow of water. The instrument fell from his hand and clattered to the floor. 

“A friend of Sasuke’s.”

“You don’t look like a very good friend to me.”

“I see you’ve truly embraced the role of protective older sister.”

Your eyes narrowed.

“Does that ever get tiresome?”

“Let’s skip the psych eval before you lose a hand.”

The pulsing current bit into his wrist. He sucked in a hiss of pain, but the sick smile continued to curl at his lips.

“I’m sure it does,” he continued. “Tell me, when you look at him, do you see Itachi?”

“No,” you spat. 

“No? You don’t see everything you lost?”

“I didn’t lose anything.”

“Just your whole life.”

You bristled at his sardonic tone. Who the hell was this guy, and why did he have such an interest in you and Sasuke?

“Think about it, Y/n. All those promotions you turned down, all those sleepless nights spent caring for some sarcastic, ungrateful little brat…”

“Shut up!”

“Let me get rid of him for you. You won’t have to be haunted by the ghost of the man who destroyed y-“

A strangled gasp left his lips as you pulled the water whip taut. It dug into the tendons and muscle, eating away at them. Blood began to seep from his wrist, dripping down his arm and pooling below on the tile.

“One more word and you lose it.”

“Now, now, let’s not be too hasty.”

You and Kabuto both glanced toward the voice. Kakashi had appeared in the doorway, one hand still casually tucked into his pocket. His steely gaze flicked between the two of you.

“You’re not an ordinary genin, are you?” 

A smirk curled at the boy’s lips. “You overestimate me.”

“I know who you are. You’re the medical corps chief’s son…Kabuto Yakushi. What are you, one of Orochimaru’s puppets?”

Your eyes widened. Orochimaru?

“Even if you take me into custody, you’d never be able to prove I have any connection to him.”

“Answer the question.”

“And if I say no?”

“I’m the one asking the questions.”

“You’ll have your answers soon enough,” Kabuto assured him. “So why don’t we skip the middle-man and let me go?”

Kakashi sneered. A cool glint had settled in his visible eye, a vivid reminder of your days together in the ANBU. 

Cold-blooded Kakashi.

“You smart-alecky little brat. I’ll teach you to mess around with grown ups.”

He drew a kunai and pointed it toward Kabuto. The boy grinned, pulling out his own curved blade with his free hand. 

“Come on, give me a break. The cards are clearly in my favor here.”

He lowered the blade toward Sasuke, letting it hover just above the exposed skin of his throat. 

You and Kakashi moved at the same time. Your water whip constricted once more, severing Kabuto’s hand from his wrist.

The limb fell to the ground with an audible squelch. 

Kakashi was on him in an instant, knocking the other blade from his hand and taking him to the floor. He shoved his face into the tile, wrenching his intact arm behind his back. 

A shuffle from behind caused you to whirl around. One of the ANBU agents was rising from the ground. Disgust washed through you. Kabuto must have used a substitution jutsu.

Your water whip shot forward, snaking around the agent’s waist and yanking him forward. His feet flew out from under him, and he slammed onto the floor on his back.

The sound of glass shattering echoed through the room. You watched, horrified, as yet another agent dove through the decimated window. 

You rushed over, watching in shock as the man fell. He removed his mask as he sailed through the air, revealing Kabuto’s smirking face. The clone you had restrained went limp, now a motionless heap on the floor.

The real Kabuto plummeted down until he disappeared into a patch of trees on the hospital grounds. The look-alike that had been speaking to you was simply another dead body, reanimated to look and sound like him.

“The dead soul jutsu.”

Kakashi nodded grimly. “He even stopped his own heart and eliminated all traces of his scent. Being raised as the adopted son of the medical corps chief is a powerful asset of his.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Kakashi shifted uncomfortably when your sharp gaze fell on him. 

“Are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on now?”

—

“Orochimaru?”

You and Kakashi sat side by side, tucked into a pair of uncomfortable chairs placed outside Sasuke’s room. Your leg bounced nervously against the plastic seat as you tried to wrap your head around his words.

“Yes.”

“How did he even get into the village?”

Kakashi sighed, running a tired hand through his fluffy hair. “He killed a grass ninja who was also competing and stole her face.” 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to shake off your revulsion at the mental image. “Okay, so what does he want with Sasuke?”

“We’re not sure,” Kakashi admitted. “But it’s got something to do with the level of power he possesses. Orochimaru wants that for himself.”

“He’s twelve years old.”

“He’s an Uchiha,” Kakashi reminded you. “Itachi made ANBU at eleven. You were in at thirteen. Age is trivial.”

You swallowed. “So what’s his game? Kill Sasuke and take the sharingan? Was that what Kabuto was trying to do?”

“I’m not sure about that either.”

He drummed his fingers against the armrest in a steady rhythm. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

You shook your head in disbelief, burying your face in your hands. You ached for Itachi now, more than you ever had. How were you supposed to protect Sasuke?

Forget Kabuto. If Orochimaru, one of the legendary sannin, was after him, how could you stop him?

“Hey,” Kakashi said softly.“We’ll figure it out.”

You nodded and avoided his gaze, steeling yourself to continue brainstorming. 

It would be impossible to guard Sasuke at all hours of the day alone. He would be safe with Kakashi during training, but what about the rest of the time? Maybe you and your summons could work in shifts?

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

You blinked. “Do what?”

“Shoulder it all by yourself. I can see it in your eyes. You’re probably sitting there, thinking ‘I’m going to take care of this’, just like you do with everything else.”

His words caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected Kakashi to be so emotionally perceptive and you certainly hadn’t expected him to voice his observations out loud. This was a side of your old captain that you hadn’t even known existed.

“You don’t have to do that,” he continued. “We can keep him safe together.”

You took a deep breath. You believed that Kakashi was sincere, but you had always taken care of Sasuke on your own. What did that say about you, if you couldn’t even protect him anymore?

No, you thought. That wasn’t important right now. If Orochimaru was after Sasuke, you would need all the help you could get. Your strength and abilities meant nothing against someone as powerful as he was.

“Alright,” you agreed. “Let’s do it.”

—

Crickets chirped in the night as you stepped out onto the long, winding porch. You wrapped your robe around yourself and leaned against the wooden railing. There was silence in the Uchiha compound, as there usually was.

A warm breeze fluttered through the trees, shaking a swirl of leaves from their branches.

A small object suddenly dropped down in front of you, landing with a thump. You stared at the limp, brown heap of fur in the grass and glanced up, waiting for its sender to arrive.

She hit the ground beside it a few moments later, silently landing on her enormous paws. Round yellow eyes greeted you as your summons, Kiyoshi, settled down in front of you. 

Her rich orange coat was dimly lit by the streetlamps. The stripes that decorated her pelt seemed to meld with the remaining shadows.

“The compound is clear,” the tigress announced. “I brought us a treat.”

She nodded toward the limp rabbit on the ground. You cleared your throat.

“Oh, thank you, Kiyoshi, but I’m not very hungry.”

She rumbled out a laugh. “I always forget that you don’t enjoy raw meat. More for me then.”

You looked away as she dug into her meal. The chirp of bugs was interrupted every so often by the crunch of bone between her teeth.

“You should eat something, at least,” she continued, licking the blood from her maw. “This stress does not become you.”

“Thanks,” you muttered sullenly.

“How will you protect the boy if you aren’t at full strength?”

“I’ll eat something. I promise.”

She crossed one paw over the other and studied you with those gleaming eyes. “Nothing about raising cubs is easy. They are constantly making trouble, constantly threatened by outside forces…it is our job to be strong for our children so that they may become strong too, one day.”

Your brow furrowed. “Sasuke isn’t my child.”

“He may as well be. It doesn’t matter how you happened into the role. Sasuke is your cub. You would fight and die to protect him, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then there is nothing more to it.”

—

Something was wrong. 

It had been two weeks since Itachi was able to check in with you and Sasuke, but something had changed. 

You were hardly sleeping, and when you did, it was in the hallway outside of Sasuke’s room. You would slump against the wall, head resting back against plaster as your fingers clenched around a kunai.

Itachi recognized the large tiger prowling the grounds as your summons. She would pad across the compound, keeping watch and occasionally feasting on any unfortunate small animals that crossed her path. On one occasion, she nearly snatched one of his crows out of the air in her jaws and made a meal of it.

So tonight, despite his better judgement, Itachi was visiting the compound in person. At first, he crouched on a nearby telephone pole, watching from afar as the tigress roamed the grounds. When she disappeared behind one of the nearby dilapidated buildings, he made his move.

His sandals touched down silently into the grass. He made his way toward the main house in search of you, worry biting at his insides the entire time.

The weight of something large and powerful was suddenly at his back. He was flipped around as if he weighed nothing, and pinned to the dirt underneath an enormous paw.

He stared up at the tigress, chest constricting, as she bore down on him with her full weight.

“I could smell you a mile away, Itachi Uchiha.”

He regarded the summons silently. She wouldn’t move without an order from you.

A low growl rumbled from her throat at his lack of reaction. “I should tear your head from your shoulders.”

“Kiyoshi!” You chastised. “Let him go.”

Itachi smiled as you rushed out onto the porch. You were still in your pajamas, hair mussed from sleep. Your fingers were clenched tightly around the blade in your hand, wholly prepared to use it.

“She doesn’t know?” Itachi wondered.

“No,” you answered coldly, glaring at her. “She does.”

“I have never been fond of you, traitor. Even less so after you wiped out your clan and left Y/n to raise a cub alone. I don’t care about the reason.”

“Kiyoshi, enough.”

With a low growl, she leaned back, and then padded off into the shadows. “Scream if he attempts to kill you.”

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, as Itachi stood and brushed the dirt from his clothes.

Itachi shook his head. “I understand. She is protective of you, and of Sasuke.”

“Still-“

“It’s good that she’s here.”

He reached up, tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why are you sleeping in the hallway?

“Sasuke is in danger. With Kabuto prowling around-“

His dark brows lifted. “Kabuto Yakushi?”

“You know Kabuto?”

“Very well, unfortunately. He and Orochimaru were members of the Akatsuki at one point…until they tried to attack me and had to flee.”

“They attacked you? Why?”

“Orochimaru wanted my body for his immortality jutsu. He incorrectly assumed they could restrain me and complete the transformation.”

Your blood ran cold. This was the missing piece. This was the reason Orochimaru had come for Sasuke.

“Y/n?” Itachi asked. “What’s wrong?”

“This is why he wanted him.”

“I see. Orochimaru couldn’t have my body, so he wishes to take his instead.”

“I was so sure Kabuto was trying to kill him in the hospital…”

“He may have been. Kabuto has always desired to become a vessel for Orochimaru. He views it as an honor. He may have wanted to take Sasuke out of the equation and sway Orochimaru into choosing him instead.”

The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Kabuto had been so close to him that day in the hospital. If you arrived a few minutes later, you might not have caught him in time.

Itachi reached up, cupping your cheek with a gentle hand. He had never seen you look so afraid, but he knew it wasn’t for yourself. Concern for Sasuke guided your every move.

“If anyone is strong enough to protect him, it’s you.”

“This is Orochimaru,” you said softly. “And I’m not as strong as I used to be.”

He could see how exhausted you were. Your eyes were heavy with dark circles. Your skin was pale from the lack of rest, and, even still, you were beautiful. The look of hard determination in your eyes made his heart swell.

“Maybe I could kill Kabuto, but one of the sannin?”

“At his core, Orochimaru is a coward,” Itachi told you. “I doubt he would infiltrate the village and attack directly unless he has something else planned.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“The Hokage is aware of this?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Then it is out of your hands…and I disagree with you. Your desire to protect Sasuke makes you stronger than you’ve ever been.”

He brushed his thumb against your cheekbone. The way he was looking at you, with such love and admiration, caused you to flush and glance away, suddenly self-conscious. His fingers softly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to face him.

He leaned down, lips brushing against yours.

“I know it’s true,” he murmured against your mouth.

You weren’t sure if you agreed, but you eagerly leaned into his touch all the same. Your hands grasped at his lean shoulders, and Itachi allowed you to tug him into the shadows. He brought his hands to the wall behind you, caging your body between his arms. 

He leaned in to close the distance between you. The feel of that first, soft kiss alone caused every coherent thought to disappear from your mind. You sighed into his mouth, melting against him as his fingers began to rove down your hips. 

Itachi ached to carry you inside and lay you down onto the smooth sheets of your bed. He wanted to watch you squirm under him and hear you whimper until you soaked them clean through. Stealing kisses in the shadows was simply not enough.

He pressed you back against the wall, reaching down to grip your thighs and hook your legs around his waist. 

His hips bucked against yours as your tongue slipped into his mouth, breaking his measured control for a fraction of a second.

He pulled back slightly, and you could see the gleam of hunger in his dark eyes, illuminated by the moonlight. He began to make his way down your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against the delicate skin.

Your fingers tangled in the soft, silky strands of his long hair and curled, tugging sharply as he nipped at the hollow of your throat. A soft moan slipped from your lips. Your eyes fell shut.

Itachi glanced up, studying you for a moment. He was in awe of the way your mouth parted in pleasure, of the quickening rise and fall of your chest, all for him. 

He could have done this for hours. Though it had been years, he still remembered every sensitive spot, every flick of his tongue that could turn you into a squirming mess. He wanted to hear you gasp beneath him and watch your face as he spread you apart.

A sudden yelp escaped from your lips. Had he hurt you? 

Itachi glanced up, concerned, only to find you looking past him at something else. He jerked back and followed your flustered gaze over his shoulder. 

An eerie pair of glowing, yellow eyes reflected the light of a nearby street lamp. Kiyoshi was crouched there in the shadows, just watching you.

“What are you doing?” you hissed.

“Oh, sorry to interrupt. I just thought you’d like to know that Kakashi and Pakkun are coming.”

Your eyes widened in horror. Itachi’s hands reluctantly dropped from your hips. An apologetic smile curled at his lips before he was disappearing into the shadows once more. 

You sighed and walked toward the front of the compound. Kiyoshi padded along you in silence for a few moments, before training those knowing eyes on you.

“Do you think that is wise?” 

Her tone was even, careful, yet you heard the undercurrent of judgement carried in every syllable.

You shot her a sharp look. “Since when do you care about my love life?”

“Would you prefer to get caught letting an S-rank criminal fuck you against the side of your house?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it again when you realized she had a point. If Kakashi, or even worse, Sasuke, had happened upon that scene, how would you explain yourself?

You could see a long shadow approaching in the distance, and a smaller one padding beside it. 

Kakashi and his tiny pug crossed through the looming gate of the compound.

“Yo,” he greeted you. “Everything clear?”

You nodded. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“I think Pakkun and I will head out, but I could leave Bull or Biscuit to guard the compound if you want.”

You shook your head. “That’s okay. Kiyoshi and I have it handled tonight.”

Besides, you didn’t want them sniffing out Itachi, even if he had already slipped away.

“Alright. You should get some sleep, though. You look exhausted.”

“Thanks,” you deadpanned.

He held his hands up, offering you a crinkly-eyed smile. “Just an observation.”

You sighed. “Have a good night, Kakashi.”

“Goodnight.”

He and Pakkun slipped back the way they had come and disappeared down the street.

“He’s right, you know,” Kiyoshi said, as you ambled back toward the main house. 

“I know,” you grumbled. “But I’m not going to tell him that.”

“I will continue the watch. You should get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Kiyoshi.”

She disappeared with a dip of her head, padding off to patrol the rows of abandoned houses and businesses that littered the compound.

You slid open the door and stepped into the still darkness of the house. You only made it a few steps before a pair of strong arms caught you around the waist and jerked you into the hallway.

Itachi pulled you against him before the yelp could escape your mouth. His lips crashed into yours, causing a lick of heat to pool in your abdomen.

Your fingers curled into the waistband of his tac pants, tugging him even closer. Air hissed through his teeth before his hands settled on your hips, easing you back and creating some distance between the two of you.

You looked up at him quizzically. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I must get back soon.”

If the two of you kept on like this, it would be too hard for him to stop. He couldn’t let Kisame become suspicious of him, and he didn’t want to leave you unsatisfied. He needed to take his time with you, and that was something he didn’t have right now. 

He smiled at the disappointed pout that had formed on your lips, leaning down to kiss them softly. 

“One day,” he promised, stroking across the skin of your cheek.

You closed your eyes. “I wish you could stay.”

He leaned down, cupping your cheeks and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I do too.”

He pulled back, brushing his nose against yours before pressing one last, heated kiss to your lips. You fought the urge to cling to his arms, to pull him back against you and beg him not to go.

Instead, you watched him leave in silence. He scaled the ivy-covered wall and disappeared into the shadows. You reached up, pressing your fingers to your own cheek, still feeling the burn of his gentle touch on your skin.

[ramshacklefey]

Oh I guess once in a while I should remember that I write fic and can share it here too!

Most recent Murderbot fics, all done for the 2025 Aspec Murderbot event!

Emergency Chat: College-age Ratthi summons his best friends for an emergency conference about some relationship difficulties he's having.

Down with the Ship: Murderbot finds out that its favorite aroace character is the subject of much shipping in feed fandoms. It takes to (Space)Reddit to do something about this.

The Infamous PresAux Shipping Chart Rides Again!: The PresAux crew get their hands on Murderbot's original shipping chart and update it to account for the innumerable aspec relationships among them.

Summoning Spell(Drabble): Popular headcanon is that Gurathin immigrated to Preservation from the CR. A silly fic about his attitudes on Preservation's (incredibly lax) marriage and divorce laws.

You Take the High Road, and I'll Take the Low: The TranRollinHyfa trio! Why was it Gurathin, Pin-Lee, and Ratthi who went to try and help Mensah? And what were they doing the whole trip home on the company gunship?

Unbridgeable: Unrequited romantic love stays unrequited, and that's okay, because friendship and mutual respect are more important.

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

Sassoon and Graves in 1920.

When Robert Graves walked into C Company mess on 28 November 1915 on some errand, he noticed an unexpected book on the table. It was a copy of Post Liminium, a collection of essays by the late nineteenth-century poet Lionel Johnson. The army was not noted for its Lionel Johnson readers; a 'military text-book or a rubbish novel' were more the order of the day. Graves took a discreet look at the name on the flyleaf. A glance round the mess was enough to indicate 'Siegfried Sassoon': the tall, lanky, shy subaltern. Graves, also tall but anything but shy, quickly struck up a conversation. Both being off duty, the two were soon walking into Béthune for cream buns, busy talking poetry. Sassoon and Graves had a good deal in common. Both were conventionally unconventional public school products, trying to turn themselves into competent army officers and into the kind of poets Eddie Marsh would publish in his Georgian Poetry anthologies. Both, anxious about being insufficiently manly, had cultivated a tougher, sportier side: Sassoon through fox-hunting and cricket; Graves through boxing — he had been the school middleweight champion. Both were lonely and in love (Sassoon with David 'Tommy' Thomas, Graves with George 'Peter' Johnstone). Both were almost certainly still virgins. The friendship necessarily developed in fits and starts, and owed some of its intensity to that. Long conversations, the uninterrupted exchange of poems and confessions, were a rare luxury. Graves gave Marsh a humorous but probably not very misleading account of their difficulty 'in talking about poetry and that sort of thing': 'If I go into his mess and he wants to show me some set of verses, he says: "Afternoon Graves, have a drink… by the way, I want you to see my latest recipe for rum punch."' He also made it pretty clear to Marsh that it was not just poetry they had to be careful about discussing openly: 'I don't know what the CO would say if he heard us discussing the sort of things we do… His saying is that "there should be only one subject for conversation among subalterns off parade." I leave you to guess it.' There was obviously a secret thrill in these surreptitious exchanges, a sense that Graves and Sassoon were like two naughty schoolboys, hoodwinking their peers and those in authority.

— Harry Ricketts, Strange Meetings: The Poets of the Great War (2010)

[ceratedfish24]

Knowing that most wildcards if not all were made in a week between the sessions, it feels like a much bigger task than sorting through viewer suggestions and making them up from scratch, tho I can't know for sure.

Yeah, the difficulty of the tasks varied a lot, but it kinda didn't bother me too much, because then they could be done with the task and do their own thing. I did love Pearl's task of getting hearts from people, but I'm a Shadowmoon shipper and the moment it created has been ingrained in my heart.

From Etho's episode I mainly remember the part where he washes himself away, so that he doesn't actually move, but moves. I'm a Doctor Who fan and I loved the reference, but yeah, quite limiting, especially with how they have to travel some time between bases and you can't know if someone is spying on you from afar.

Hm, you could say keeping it a secret is like if everyone was a boogeyman or well, playing a game of mafia. I do remember that a few times others were able to guess the task, but if they wanted to help the person, they played a game of crocodile, not being able to say anything outright, just imply.

To me a lot of tasks felt opposingly team uniting. With how Bdubs task started the whole Mounder thing. And then Joel's task (the cult one) brought Mounders even closer in a way, pft. And sometimes guessing the task incorrectly spawned an event, like almost the entire server hanging out at Pearl's mound base. Also Pearl helping Bdubs and Mumbo with their tasks (dragon, cursed tower). So yeah, I love Matchbox and Mailbox.

Out of context, but i remember people (CCs as their characters and the fans) were saying that Mounders aren't loyal and will fall apart or something. And in the end, Mumbo started to act as a red and tried to kill his teammates a few times, but they still accepted him. You can tell I love Mounders, tho all the other teams were great. The dog boys had such a fun dynamic, them often going to talk to BigB or Scar and having silly interactions together. To me the Bamboozlers flow so well from Secret Life: the winner, the unlucky and the loser /affectionate, they're definitely my favorite team that happened in Wild Life. Pearl and Mumbo would have fitted in with them too, all a little bit pathetic.

I agree with the love island team point? They are such a fun team up and there could have been more. Definitely the fact that BigB started as a loner because of his task and leaned into the backrooms creature vibe made it seem like he had to play two different characters at a time? Perhaps, that is not what you're talking about, but people were suspicious that BigB won't stay loyal and is more by himself, but they trusted each other. I don't fully remember the moment, but I think Skizz made someone think that he believes that BigB is a traitor, but then turned on them instead. Or this is memories connecting wrong bits. I don't joke about having troubles rewatching stuff, even when I love it.

Oh, yeah. Mine is all subjective and personal heaven, which I know is flawed, but I see the good and the bad bits and enjoy it as a whole, like you are with Wild Life. I am not a Third Life lover 😔 It's good, but if I'm ranking it, it will go to the bottom (all cause Pearl wasn't in it /hj)

Yes! It all felt like wacky cartoon episodes, which to me is a high praise, as I love Adventure Time and other episodic shows with an overarching plot. Again with my hyperfixation, Pearl died a lot, she literally had the first death on the server (i am replying as I am reading or else I'll forget my thoughts, but you mentioned it and we kinda divided on it? I agree, but also I can excuse it. It's brutal and unfair, but it did help others avoid the same fate. This is also a point in the: I think they should have given themselves more time to test the wildcards, because it feels like a thing you could fix, if found). But it was all because of a part of a mechanic of a wildcard that has not been found out before, which she immediately shares with her teammates. The opportunity to play around and find a way to work the wildcard in your favor or at least to not die from it is amazing. It just felt dissapointing, when people were trying out ways to have an advantage over snails in a way and got punshed for persisting and being curious (the inconsistency of when the snail jumps in your face. I know it's like 3 blocks but some were closer or farther, and with Pearl's second death potentially being caused by Aussie ping). I understand that if there was a way to battle snails completely, everyone would have gotten rid of them in the first hour and there is no more wildcard. But the whole point of an immortal snail is that you get some advantage (money in the original case) and you can figure out things to feel at least somewhat safer.

I would have said that making each snail have their own thing to slow them down/make them stop for a moment and have some cool down for that effect is too much, but they made a whole superpower wildcard so.. It's different but something lesser, like being able to feed them a certain somewhat rare item to slow them could be cool? Idk if the range could allows it, but if you can click on snail with an item (like feeding a dog a steak) and not get it jump on your face immediately. There is a possibility of no one even figuring that out especially if the items are too rare, but at least there would have been something? For Bdubs to feed his snail a clock and make it slower or stop for a certain amount of time with a cooldown (you would have a moment to breath, but you might also forget about it, so it's still a risk). I just feel like they are smart enough to flesh it out more, and I never fully understood why they put such a harsh time limit on themselves. They were most likely concepting wildcards for longer, but when you actually get the moving snail and test it out, you might have to fix some issues and if it's too close to deadline, you'll just have to give up on a good idea.

I know that if you are creating a big time sinking project, you have to organize and pay every person who is involved in the creation, so extending the time frame or the complexity, would have upped the cost significantly. I read some comment about how they could have made a whole series out of each of the wildcard, and I am on the side that having a new thing each week is a cool concept. The only part I do agree is the superhero wildcard. I just think a superhero life series (or maybe a sibling series) could be genuinely fun. Am a sucker for AUs.

Snails were very cute and funny, but they were undeniably too much. They had to stop the session earlier and all the CCs were exhausted by the end of it. You can see how the death count skyrockets because of snail, and the balancing by giving players 6 lives worked out i guess, but them ending early means if it wasn't stopped, there could have been even more deaths or even a first person to get out of the series in session 3(4?).

And final deaths are supposed to be at least somewhat tragic or emotional (in a funny or sad way). Skizz's and Mumbo's final deaths were cool, but Gem, Impulse, BibB, Scar died in a less fair(?) way. And Grian knows how important it can be to get out of a series in a satisfying end, Jimmy and Lizzie dying was sad, but epic and he helped to achieve that.

Okay, that's a fair point. I was afraid of getting into life series, because it felt like there were so many people and all had their own unique storyline. To me, I just accepted that I will get information about their videos secondhand, and if it intrigues me, I would go and watch the episode myself. I am happy that it was enjoyable for you and easier to engage with.

Big groups feel clanky to me in a way that everybody is trying to help the team, but when you have to listen to so many people at once, it becomes either a corporate meeting or a hangout at the loud bar. I do understand the appeal of a bigger group interacting, but I always feel like a lot more people get talked over and if there is no enemy, there is no conflict and there is no one to fight? A lot of times people were trying to mention who they were enemies with and it consisted of "hmh, we are kinda okay with them, and them too, and them". To which, Secret life didn't have that much outright betrayal or enemies, it was kinda more sitcom-ey. There were a lot of rivals, not enemies. In wild life it feels like there are almost no evemies and no rivals. Even bringing up the Impossible Minecraft, it's a smaller series, but there is a collaborative process, so big groups are encouraged, because there is no competition (the winners and placements don't actually mean much in the same way as MCC or similar stuff does obviously. It's all more about people creating a narrative and a story).

I do think Scar is a pretty good player, just unlucky at times. He did win by his own strength in Secret Life and got to the end in Third Life (while being the first one to go down to red and so early), he and Grian also being the 4th(?) soulmates to die and it was Grian who died, I'm pretty sure. You might not be implying that, I just dislike when people kinda dismiss his achievements.

I also enjoyed the Gs. The only thing I have a beef is that Tango was hanging around them at the start and I was so hoping for him to join them, tho the Tuff guys is also cool. I do find it funny how Gem and Pearl exchanged teammates from last time.

This all is a toll on anyone and when you have to organize and also be involved in the project, where your friends's income partially depends on you and you have to try to cater to them and to the viewers all at once. And well, when you see your friend so exhausted and trying so much to make you enjoy the series, I think it would feel brutal to complain about anything. They're friends and I don't know how they interact behind the scenes, but I would never want to upset my friend over something like that. Of course, if someone didn't vocalize their concerns, it's partially on them for doing so, but it's understandable. There is a part of me that wants Grian to delve more into different series, and with Impossible Minecraft, it seems like something he had in mind? Fans like to find parallels and will always compare previous seasons, so anything new will be met with a bigger criticism. Impossible Minecraft didn't capture everyone's attention, but I still feel it got good reviews and players seem to enjoy it. There is a difference that even through you can analyze CCs as characters, it is definitely much less roleplay and more survival. Not everyone found it appealing, but people also weren't compelled to compare it to life series, because it is distinctly different and we got both traffic and it. If Grian makes more of completely different series with no overarching expectations or limitations, it could be cool. Some people might be angry that they have to wait for a new life series season longer because of it, but it's not like we were ever really promised it and even if we were, he can decide to not go forth with it, if he wants to, it is his project. Idk if all my blank suggestions or ideas are out of place, but I very much love all the CCs and wouldn't want for any of them to get burned out and not participate in the life series or other projects.

I completely understand and agree with your whole last paragraph. Mine is similar, just replace Wild Life with Secret life. And I still enjoyed a lot of Wild Life, and I do have my own criticism of the Secret Life. I do understand people voicing and sharing their complaints, and not all should be like, thought out essay. Sometimes you watch a movie and find it meh, but can't put it into words. People not wanting to give Wild Life or any season a chance for whatever personal reason is understandable. Grian and others are still content creators and have to take into account a criticism of a casual viewer, which most of their viewers consist of I would think. But that's kinda why still discussing those things in the fandom is important. How would Grian know what we want to see, if he can only see the passerby viewer say "meh, not the same" and nothing else. Being afraid to hurt the CC can lead to it either way, when fans lose the interest and stop watching at all. It's not that Wild Life was horrible, it's that a lot of fans felt unheard. I assume that when you are making content for a long time, it can become stale and samey and you might lose confidence of if your content is actually good or not. They became CCs, because they wanted to share something that people would love, so hearing back is useful. When you start to see anycritisism as hate, it makes fans not want to share their thoughts and CCa are left one on one with angry/indifferent redditors (idk how bad reddit is, never used it besides googling weird things).

Idk where Grian saw that fans didn't want for him and Scar to team up, most fans love their dynamic. I do know some were complaining about the sameness of the teams, like the 3Gs. But some simply called 3G toxic, which is not completely untrue and doesn't mean they disliked the team? They have a very complicated history and that's the fun part of them trying to rebuild this. It's unrealistic for them to just forget everything and forgive. You can say that you forgive, but that doesn't automatically rewrite how you feel about it. There was a great episode in Amphibia that ended with the main character Anne forgiving a side character Hop Pop, but in the next episode Anne and Hop Pop are being weird and it escalates into a fight. There were still things unsaid and Anne just bottled everything up to try to move away from the situation, they needed more talk and more time to truly understand and forgive. I know that I reference a scripted cartoon show and Life Series is not a scripted play, but it is a roleplay for a lot of CCs, and dnd shows how improvisation can create great narrativess. It wouldn't be a death series without all the drama and all the betrayals and complicated relationships.

I hope this ask won't get killed by Tumblr, idk what's the word limit and how it works in general. I also reread it just once, sorry for any inconsistencies. Thank you for your time!

Hey! Sorry that it took so long for me to respond, but this was a really long ask that I had to break down paragraph by paragraph, which isn’t a bother! It just means that it takes me a little longer to respond to.

The problem that I had with the tasks was when tasks were too hard or had players do something consistently throughout the episode that didn’t really make their episode much more interesting. For example, I loved the concept of Etho’s weeping angel task. I’m also a Doctor Who fan! It’s just, yeah. It was difficult for him to enforce when in an open space. If the tasks were consistently like that, then I wouldn’t care as much, but it felt unfair for some people to be able to progress with more freedom than others. It wasn’t that big of an issue, of course. It’s just a little pet peeve.

As a com sci major, oh my gosh I can only imagine how difficult it must have been to program all of those wild card in such a short amount of time, especially the ones that were only decided upon in response to episodes (I believe the quiz bot was originally a scrapped wild card but was then brought back to the workshop last minute in response to players’ performances, but I may be misremembering).

I totally recognize that players still found ways to help each other, I just wish out of preference that there was a way for them to have been a little freer with their firm factions. I know that such a rule would be difficult to make concrete decisions on, but I know that Impulse felt disappointed that he didn’t get much of a chance to get to know Scott as a teammate. I don’t think that it was a bad decision. After all, it is called Secret Life. I just wish I could’ve seen certain teams loosen up a little more around each other. You raise a good point about the Mounders, though! They were a really great team. It’s just a shame that other teams weren’t able to communicate with each other as subtly yet effectively as the Mounders. Honestly, I’m not sure why people insist that a team will fall apart before that team shows signs of falling apart. Each season is a fresh start. While there may be history, each person still chooses whether or not to let that go.

God, someone PLEASE make BigB the leader of a big team. I need to observe his behavior in such a role. It's for science.

Third Life isn't at the top of my list either! There's definitely parts of it that I loved, but there were also parts that I was personally frustrated with. It’s not anyone’s fault at all. It’s just a matter of preference. It also totally gets a pardon due to it being the first ever season, but that doesn’t necessarily win it more points in my heart.

Pearl’s first death, I totally excuse it too. I didn’t mean to come off as if I disagree with the decision to keep it in. It’s a game mechanic and all. It just felt like such an unlucky “first to find out” situation, but that's part of the game. As for the snails, Grian didn’t intend for this to be an easy wild card. He expected more player deaths than normal, though he did say that there were still more than he expected. However, he also said that he had a moment where he considered using the Quizbot to gift back lives and decided not to. He wanted players to really feel the cost of each life. It’s a decision that he’s very firm about, and I respect that. I will say that the players who died significantly more than other players had a lot of deaths that were simply careless. There were of course many deaths that were the cost of an experiment or were just so terribly unfortunate (double Bdubs death), but I think a lot of deaths were from not keeping an eye on their snail (Scar gets a pass because his snail was literally turned invisible by other players). Here’s the thing. The problem that many players experimenting with the snails had was that they were experimenting with their own snail. Jimmy is a great example of someone who did NOT experiment with his own snail very much, despite his crazy number of deaths. Most of Jimmy’s snail experiments were done on other people’s snails, and he learned a lot from testing on them. In other words, there were ways to test on the snails that were much less risky, especially if you have a friend helping you.

The feeding the snails to slow them down is a really cool idea! I just don’t know if it would be worth the risk of getting close to your snail nor do I think that the players would have figured out that they could feed their snails, especially if the required items are player specific. I think that it would be a really really cool concept for a longer series or just snails, but it doesn’t work well for only one episode. Grian could’ve told people, of course, but Grian was already telling people quite a bit about the snails and he evidently would have trouble remembering what each snail eats (he couldn’t remember assigned superpowers even though not even everyone had an assigned superpower. I don’t blame him, though. I can’t remember people’s names ten minutes after meeting them, and I can’t throw stones in glass houses).

I would TOTALLY be down for a whole season of superpowers. I thought the superpowers were so so so cool. I do find it weird that someone commented that they could make a whole season out of each wild card when so many people said that the wild cards were boring. I don’t think that would go well in terms of viewership.

I understand finding the snails to be too much, but every creator we know of said that the snails were fun, even if they were stressful. After the snail episode, Grian very urgently checked in with everyone more so than usual, and, according to Impulse, Grian, Martyn, and Skizz, everyone found the snail episode to be a lot of fun. I don’t think that the snails were too much, because everyone had fun and got a great episode out of it. Additionally, due to how long the season surprisingly ended up being, I worry that trying to make the wild cards safer might have resulted in a longer season than the cast was hoping. They typically try to keep the seasons to 8-9 episodes, and Wild Life hit that quota despite the number of people saying that it would definitely be the shortest season ever (which is a little strange considering Double Life was only 6 episodes long, and I doubt that Wild Life ever even looked like it would only be 5 episodes long what with so many people having all of their 6 lives for so long). All in all, I don’t think that the players minded a shorter session when they all got an exciting normal length episode.

I absolutely understand being disappointed in some of the final deaths, but that’s not really a concept that’s new to Wild Life. I mean, while Grian’s final death in Limited Life was thematically cool, it would’ve been pretty anti-climactic without Jimmy’s death. It’s something that happens, and I’ve made my peace with that, especially with how exciting everyone’s life was to me. Of course, I understand that all of that is a matter of personal preference.

I’m glad that you understand my perspective on having an easier time staying caught up. I’ve been watching Minecraft YouTubers for a long time, and I was a big fan of particular big groups. I’m pretty used to hearing them talk over each other and didn’t really think about how that was absolutely a matter of personal history of enjoying hearing 6-10 people in the same call all of the time. I’m sorry to hear that it was more frustrating for you, and I totally understand feeling like there was less content in Wild Life and that the content that was available felt socially clunkier. I hope the next seasons are more your taste!! I got my fair share of what I wanted :)

I understand what you mean about feeling like there were no enemies, but I interpreted that as feeling as though there was no specific enemy (other than everyone vs the family) because most teams had wronged people pretty equally. There was definitely enemies and rivalries, they were just more player specific than team specific, which I understand is unusual for the Life Series. Impulse vs Gem was a pretty big rivalry, as was, of course, Grian vs the Bamboozlers, particularly vs Scar. Mumbo vs Scott was a weirdly spawned in rivalry. I don’t know why Mumbo latched onto that so hard, but I respect him for committing to the bit like that. Another rivalry, which was mostly a result of miscommunication, was Scar vs the Tuff Guys. See, and this is the most insane looney toons incident in the series, Bdubs pretended to do something “tuff” to the Bamboozlers so that Tango and Etho would think he was tuff. Then, Etho actually did something “tuff” to the Bamboozlers, which Scar got payback for by burning down Tango’s base. Tango then got revenge by attacking ALL of the Bamboozlers’ parrots. In other words, I don’t really think that there were fewer enemies and rivalries. I think that the relationships between individual players were just insanely more convoluted. The only team vs team enemies who I can really think of were the Spanners vs the Gs. Grian really wanted to eliminate the try hards who were stronger in numbers (though, as Scott has said, larger groups don’t often do better in the Life Series). The whole thing was like watching a drama series. I really loved it, but I totally understand how it’s a lot more confusing compared to past seasons, where enemies are more straightforward and agreed upon within teams. The problem was that players were having a lot of personal beef with each other but then projecting that onto the other player’s whole team, who hadn’t been told about this beef and is then confused when told that something is wrong. The Gs and the Family were a little better at communicating between each other, but that didn’t mean that they always entirely agreed on how to deal with the issue. As for the storyline and collaboration points, I totally understand wanting that. I think I gave Wild Life a lot more grace, because every episode was like a first episode, where everyone is still helping each other navigate the new gimmick. That’s a part that I, personally, really enjoy about first episodes. This is much less a rebuttal against your point and more of a “this is how I understood it in the moment and a matter of my personal enjoyment, and I absolutely understand if it wasn’t for you”.

Oh I definitely agree that Scar’s a great player! I think he doesn’t really pick up on new situations as quickly, but, once he has it, he’s mastered it. He’s also just a generally skilled player. That man is INSANE in combat. Who taught him how to fight like that. It’s so strange when people say that Scar isn’t a “real” winner. Winners may statistically be more likely to rise from smaller teams, but that doesn’t mean that it’s easiest to get to the finale all by yourself, especially when you have as many enemies as Scar did that season.

I also love the Gs and the Tuff Guys, but GOD I understand what you mean. I’ve been dying for Tango to team up with new people, particularly Scott, for AGES. I want more Snowbugs content. Please, Mr. Smajor, PLEASE team up with different Hermits. I love every single one of Scott’s teams and dynamics, but I’m so eager to see him interact with people we don’t often get to see him hang out with.

I understand what you mean about not wanting to hurt your friends feelings, but Grian specifically requested criticism from each player after every session. There are of course so many ways to go about this situation, and no one way is necessarily the “correct” way to deal with it every time, but, if my friend was asking for criticism, I would want to help them feel as though they have improved their project as much as they are ready to. I’m not saying that I would complain or criticize or be harsh, but expressing an honest opinion about your own experience is so so so critical during game development. This is particularly critical in the Hermitcraft community when Hermits ask other Hermits for criticism. Grian in particular likes honest constructive criticism when he asks for it.

I absolutely agree about wanting to see a variety of series. While I understand that it doesn’t always do as well as their main content, I find it really exciting to see my favorite creators in new situations with different goals and expectations.

When I get upset about people sharing their complaints about Wild Life, I absolutely do not mean people who have real complaints about how the game operates or how it played out. Everyone is entitled to their preferences. What I mean is people who blatantly commented on Grian’s videos stuff like “Grian, these wild cards are boring” and “how is this an episode” or tweeted at him about how they hate Wild Life but didn’t have anything constructive to say about it. There were a lot of comments like this on Jimmy’s Instagram too, and that just sucks. If you have something like that to say about someone’s project that they’re so passionate about, there are more appropriate places to do so. Do I expect Twitter and YouTube comment sections to be free of hate? Absolutely not. However, people need to recognize that Grian doesn’t go on Twitter and YouTube looking for those types of criticisms. The kind of hate that pops up on Twitter and YouTube is so common that a lot of seasoned creators tend to be rather unbothered by hate on those platforms to the point where they skip over genuine criticism. Reddit would’ve probably been a more appropriate and effective platform for constructive criticism when trying to communicate your opinion with people like Grian, who don’t use Tumblr and have been on Twitter and YouTube for too long to take those kinds of comments into consideration.

The Grian and Scar thing was almost entirely Twitter and YouTube. While there are definitely people on Twitter and YouTube who LOVE Scarian, they’re also the platforms that are most concentrated with Scarian haters. It’s really tumblr with a denser population of Scarian fans, but Grian doesn’t get his feedback from tumblr, especially when tumblr and hermittwt are a lot more shy than haters tend to be.

Here's the thing about the Gs. A lot of people were insisting that the Gs were going to break up because “Cleo and Scott always betray Pearl”. This is not true. Scott’s history with Pearl is more complicated, but Scott had a good reason to not want to team with Pearl again. He couldn’t communicate this very well in character, but Scott literally could not be her teammate again, not after he just won Last Life with just Pearl as his teammate for a majority of the season. In other words, Scott didn’t really feel significant negativity towards Pearl until she started acting crazy, which Scott isn’t entirely at fault for. He wasn’t neutral in the matter, but it would be unfair to blame it entirely on him when Martyn immediately abandoning Pearl despite being in the same situation as her, Scar and Ren pushing the “5AM Pearl” character, and, of course, the fact that it was 5AM for her are all fairly equal contributions to the way Pearl decided to present herself. Additionally, Pearl chose to forgive Scott immediately after he blew himself up, which isn’t to say that frustration and resentment can’t ever resurface, especially if the event was particularly traumatic, but Pearl and Scott both gave themselves a whole lot of time to reconcile with what happened and come to forgive each other. It’s also not something that either of them ever bring up, spitefully or not. They’ve never held Double Life against each other even as enemies, and it’s not something they hold against each other when they have disagreements as allies. As for Cleo, Cleo has never betrayed Pearl. Has Cleo been enemies with Pearl, sure! But never when Pearl was ever entitled to Cleo’s loyalty by any means. The Gs was the first time where Cleo and Pearl were on the same team for the whole season, and it's not like Cleo betrayed Pearl during Last Life either. I genuinely believe that there’s an excess of attention on Cleo and Pearl hurting each other because they’re both women in a male-dominated space, because they haven’t been crueler to one another than would be expected of people on different teams. It’s kind of like saying that Scar and Lizzie are a bad team because Lizzie hated Scar in Secret Life, when what we were seeing in Wild Life didn’t show significant evidence of that grudge.

Were the Gs toxic? That’s up to interpretation, but I don’t think it deserved the amount of backlash some people gave it without criticizing other teams. I once made a post about Mumbo “manipulating” Skizz and Grian in the same way that Smajor haters claim that Scott is “manipulative”. I DO NOT believe in what I said about Mumbo. The point of the post was explicitly to show what the narrative looks like on someone who gets way less hate for behaving the same way or “worse”, and I do state that at the end of the post. The Tuff Guys, too, were SO messy. They could rarely agree on anything and almost always resorted to insults, but that wasn’t the result of people who hate each other. That’s the result of people who love each other so so so much and trust each other to know when they do and don’t mean things and to feel safe bringing it up if a line was crossed. I mean, no matter how much Tango and Bdubs insulted and rolled their eyes at Etho or were mockingly offended by his comments, the only time they acted properly upset with him was when they found out that they might not be his priority team (and they didn’t even know about the team he was actually loyal to in the end!). In that same sense, Scott, Pearl, and Cleo are best friends who love each other so much. Their friendship is apparently strong enough to withstand tough breaks in that relationship. It’s one thing to say that you like a team and interpret their dynamic as antagonistic, but it’s another to actually get mad at the actual Scott and Cleo for “teaming up with Pearl to manipulate her”, which was such a common kind of post that I was seeing throughout the first several weeks of Wild Life.

Your ask did not get killed by tumblr! I’m starting to think there may not be a character limit on these things. I copy asks and write out responses in Google docs cause it’s more convenient to access when I have time, and this ask was 5 pages long in 12 point font 1.15 spacing. Whatever kills asks, it’s not word count. Thank you for the ask! I love long asks :D And thank you for your patience! My housing situation has been... weird. I'm not in danger of losing my place or anything; it's just been over-complicated and slow to progress.

[taramimeme-blog-blog]

I Need to Talk About: Lysithea

In a continuation of "I Need to Talk About: Hapi", today I will be lobbing words your way on the subject of one of my other favorites, Lysithea von Ordelia.

Like last time, this post is long, and only lightly edited, so you have been warned.

Who is Lysithea?

Along with Linhardt, Lysithea is the character in Three Houses I most strongly identify with, in ways both good and bad.

Lysithea definitely has a lot of fans, but I also think people who don't like her really don't like her. Why? She's whiny and annoying. She's constantly insisting that she's not just a kid. She's outright rude to some other characters (poor Ignatz!)

But I actually really like a lot of those aspects of her personality. They make sense, and feel very real.

Ultimately, Lysithea is a simultaneously over-confident AND self-doubting 15 year old. Who among you have not met a 15 year old who is convinced that they have totally figured out how the world works, but also doesn't know who they really are? We can see proof that the Goddess exists--and that she has a sense of humor--in the fact that human children learn confidence before they learn actual wisdom.

Lysithea's decisions to do things like hide the fact that she likes sweets or is afraid of ghosts because those are "kid things" is exactly the kind of thing a teenager would do because they think they've found "one weird trick!" to make everyone see them as an adult.

And in her defense, she has good reason to be defensive about her abilities. Human beings judge people a lot on appearance, and she's a short, little thing, so immediately, she's working against that to be taken seriously. Also she's female. And she lives in a society that has an obsession with crest babies, so even though there are plenty of examples of women doing stuff in Fódlan, like being mercenaries, or being amazing mages, or even being the I-can't-believe-it's-not-a-pope, there is also a lot of pressure on noble women to make children, which is an activity that is bound to interfere with other life goals, especially if Fódlan's medical technology is on par with their use of the printing press. (Hint: They do not have printing presses.)

And on top of all that, Lysithea doesn't even want to do do the things she's supposed to do as a noble. She's not interested in carrying on her family line (and I don't remember off-hand any mentions of her having kids in any of her paired-endings in-game). In fact, her plan is to set her affairs in order and then dissolve her house entirely. One of the Great Houses of Leicester! With a seat at the roundtable!

(We pause for technical difficulties while we take care of Lorenz fainting. Does anyone have any smelling salts or leeches?)

So this girl is kind of a radical. Even though she's also stubborn. She's open to new ideas at least as much as she's NOT open to new foods.

How does she get like this?

Well, this is Fódlan, so if you guessed trauma...why would you guess anything other than trauma? Of course it's trauma! Trauma is the free space in the middle of the Fódlan Bingo board.

The experiments on her as a child, the tragedy of losing her siblings, her parents' almost certainly unresolved guilt and sadness after the fact, and the betrayal of the other lords in Leicester and the Church not helping her family, all definitely had a big effect on her world view.

Lysithea grew up in a noble family, ensconced in the most rigid and privileged part of society, but that same society failed her and her family utterly. So is it any wonder she has no faith in THE SYSTEM?

Aside from the obvious (Edelgard) there are few nobles we see in Three Houses who are more against the system of nobility than Lysithea. She outright tells Lorenz she doesn't give a crap about Alliance politics. (Careful, someone hold him again!) And her plan is ultimately to walk away from it all.

I think it's actually kind of interesting to look at her, Edelgard, and Constance. All three of them have been screwed over by the system. Edelgard's solution is to burn it to the ground. Constance's is to try to rejoin it to gain back the power and leverage she lost. And Lysithea's is to hit da' bricks.

(Side note, which I'll cover more when I write about Constance. Although it isn't shown in-game, I suspect that she too is well aware of the rot of Fódlan's noble system. She's not dumb. She definitely doesn't idealize the system as much as it appears she does looking at her from the outside.)

I don't remember Lysithea saying much about the Church, positive or negative, in either game, but I would imagine that she and her family have bitterness towards it too. The Church is a presence on the whole continent, and they probably had at least an inkling of what was happening to Ordelia. The Church could have maybe done something. But if nothing else, the Church and nobility are so closely entwined that any anger at the noble system would certainly also exist towards the Church.

And anger strikes me as a strong driving force for Lysithea. She has a lot to be angry about. And sometimes anger is a tool people can use to paper over despair.

Lysithea could despair. She was told she only had a couple of years left to live! She could just quietly go through the motions of her noble life and then resign herself to dying maybe just a couple years after graduating from Garreg Mach. But I think she has learned to channel anger to keep herself moving forwards.

So that's also probably part of why she's so curt with everyone.

Funny enough, I sometimes wonder if Lysithea would have been much more like Lorenz had the tragedy never happened to her family. She has a stubborn, inflexible side to her. Perhaps she would have been the one meticulously following the prescribed rules of noble comportment--and berating others who don't live up to it--if she had not lost all faith in the system early on.

It's my personal head-canon that she still does follow a lot of the rules pretty faithfully, on a surface level. She seems like she would like rules and clarity. I bet she writes the most formal, stiff letters imaginable, even to her parents and friends. And she starts over on clean paper if she has to fix even one wrong punctuation mark.

Her thought process when writing a letter home:

Begin with an appropriate, seasonal greeting. Then send wishes for the good health of the receiver. After that, open with an engaging anecdote of recent events. Next, state clearly the true business of the missive...

(Goddess, she would be so bad at texting or posting online.)

But despite all of the ways in which Lysithea is perhaps difficult to get along with, she isn't fundamentally a loner. She likes people! She can even be friendly! She just needs to pencil a session into her calendar. What do you mean be friendly spontaneously? That's absurd!

And funny enough, I think I really get some of her most mean-spirited supports: the ones with Marianne and Ignatz. In both cases, I think Lysithea is displaying her empathy for the other two, although in the worst way possible.

When she looks at Ignatz, she sees his lack of confidence, and his sometimes clumsy manner, and she just knows that people are judging him for it, and discrediting him as a reliable adult. It makes her feel awful on his behalf, and that makes her lash out at him. She's angry at him because she fears that the way she looks at him is how others see her.

And with Marianne, she sees someone who is hiding something secret about herself, and who has allowed her situation to bring her to despair, and to lack even the hope of accomplishing anything. Perhaps even more than Ignatz, this bothers Lysithea because it is so easily how she could have become. When she angrily tells Marianne not to give up, and that it's important to keep trying even when things seem hopeless, she's reminding herself as much as anything.

Another thing that is interesting about Lysithea is how she is flexible in her thinking, even while being rigid in her behaviors.

Aside from the obvious example of deciding to take the radical step of disbanding her house, she also has numerous supports in-game where she admits to fault. After the fact.

So she probably has a tendency to default to certain ways of behaving, but when she actually thinks about something and analyzes it, she is very willing to allow that she may have been wrong. I think "analytical" is the single best word to describe her approach to the world. She is NOT going to act on her gut. She is NOT going to suddenly change plans on a whim. But if she has the time to think about an issue, she is going to approach it with a surprisingly unbiased mind. She is fundamentally a practical person who is more interested in accomplishing goals and getting results than she is in anything else like preserving her reputation, or not rocking the boat.

So who does she / should she get along with?

I've already mentioned Hapi in the post before this one, so I won't revisit that one here again, but let me reiterate that they would so get along with each other.

Constance

Ok, hear me out. I think this one has so much potential.

Do you like enemies to friends? Enemies to lovers? Enemies to still hate each others' guts but also are strangely turned on / intrigued by each other? Do you like two people who are so similar in so many ways that they actually grate against each other?

Oh, do I have something for you.

Lysithea and Constance have a lot in common. They both come from noble houses that suffered tragedy. Constance literally lost everything. Lysithea somehow lost even more. Like I mentioned above, while Lysithea explicitly shows her dismissive attitude towards the noble system, I am convinced that Constance also has her grievances, even if she is more circumspect about airing them.

They also are both talented mages, prodigies perhaps, but definitely, without a doubt hard workers. They both are driven by the after-effects of their families' respective tragedies to accomplish a goal.

But, by Sothis, their personalities could not be a worse match.

Constance in the shade definitely strikes Lysithea as overbearing and ostentatious. She's annoyingly loud and pushy. And in the sun, Constance's pitiful state would annoy Lysithea in the same way that she is annoyed by Ignatz and Marianne. Seeing someone look bad makes her feel bad for them, and that feeling aggravates her. "Why don't they just try harder!?" she thinks angrily, not seeing how if she didn't have her anger to drive herself, she might very well be in the same state.

Constance meanwhile, unless / until she knows about Lysithea's family and what happened, probably would easily see Lysithea as a rival--a fellow talented mage--but one who still has her noble house, and the connections and status that affords. And not only that, Lysithea is a handful of years younger!

Lysithea is a reminder of what Constance has lost, and of what she's competing against. Despite her assertions (and her starting class of "noble" in-game) Constance isn't a noble anymore. She is just a commoner, and she is starting from a position of weakness in her quest to restore her house. It wouldn't surprise me if she resented Lysithea for her privileges.

Of course, I think that if Constance ever did learn about what happened to Lysithea in the past, she would be extremely sympathetic. She would understand almost as well as anyone what Lysithea has gone through.

I imagine that, while the two of them would be able to have very interesting conversations about magic, their clashing personalities would be a source of friction. Both work hard, but Constance seems like the type to take an idea and run with it, maybe without a full plan. She would pull all-nighters. She would perform questionable experiments.

Lysithea though, would prefer a more methodical method, and would be disturbed by Constance's sometimes messy, uncoordinated ways of doing things.

If they ever had to share a lab (Do you do magical experiments in a lab?) unless they mark a line down the middle, there are going to be constant fights about Constance's mess and clutter. I guarantee her workspace is a barely-controlled disaster.

I mentioned it above as well, but I also love the parallel between Lysithea still having noble status and wanting to be rid of it, and Constance having lost it and wanting to gain it back.

I think they would always annoy each other, but they could easily become friends, or lovers, who just bicker constantly but still stick together somehow.

Linhardt

I actually don't have a lot to say about this one in a way, because my interpretation is not radically different from what we already see in-game. They are both very smart. They're both interested in magic. And neither of them seems like the type to like noise and fuss, and definitely neither of them have any interest in the trappings of nobility.

Like I said with Hapi, I don't get a lot of romantic vibes from these two, but I think that's more due to Linhardt being Linhardt. They would probably be a very loving, doting couple, even if they didn't show it a lot. And they would be very good friends, understanding each other very well without having to explain a lot.

I think the most interesting difference between them is Linhardt's more laid-back (and perhaps semi-chaotic) way of doing things, even things he is very interested in. His "laziness" (really, his insistence on doing things his way) definitely gets on Lysithea's nerves at first, but I can imagine she would drop it over time once she sees that he gets results, eventually. I would imagine that his workspace is also chaos, like Constance, although somehow a more subdued chaos that is easier for Lysithea to ignore. I guarantee you that he is one of those people whose filing system is piles-of-stuff-everywhere-and-he-has-memorized-where-things-are. You'll never find anything in the mess yourself, but if you ask him, he can get it for you in less than a minute.

Like Hapi, I think Lysithea could learn a lot from Linhardt about taking a break once in a while, and doing something because it seems neat, not because it leads to a goal. She's probably never going to enjoy fishing (it's icky, and she doesn't even like eating fish for the most part) but I bet if Linhardt ever took up bird watching or something, she would be all over that. She'd be the one with the identification book and the log of what they'd seen and when, and he'd be the one with empty hands. (Ok, maybe she didn't learn to do something for the fun of it with no goal in mind after all.)

Leonie

*Heart rate rises. Begins sweating profusely.*

Oh my god. When Lysithea told Leonie that she would make a perfect husband... *Licks lips. Blinks. Breaths heavily*

Ok, the absolute hotness of their potential romantic relationship aside. I think they have a really neat dynamic. These are two people from very different backgrounds. Leonie is one of the poorest commoners, with the least social capital in all of Garreg Mach, and Lysithea comes from not just a noble family, but one of the big ones in Leicester. Leonie is interested in physical training and becoming a mercenary, and Lysithea is interested in magic and book-learning.

But both of them are super focused on their goals, and really hard workers. And both of them got these goals because of a major experience in childhood.

For Leonie, it was a chance meeting with someone from the outside world, Jeralt, who was traveling the world and helping people out; being a hero! Leonie saw an opportunity for something different in her life!

For Lysithea, it's of course a lot more negative. She was put in a bad situation, and has decided she needs to make what lemonade she can with the lemons life has thrown at her.

(Side note, I think it's very cool how supportive Leonie's parents, and even her whole village are of her dreams. They could have told her to be a "good girl" and just stay put and get married, but instead they banded together to get her the money she needed to pursue her dream. What a fucking good extended family! Can we all raise a glass / clap our hands for Leonie's awesome support network?)

Actually, maybe that's not a side note. Lysithea also has a very supportive family. She went to Garreg Mach at a very young age compared to most, and her parents were willing to trust her to take care of herself despite her youth and ill health. So both Leonie and Lysithea deeply care about family due to the support they are receiving from their respective families.

The two of them are also very blunt. I think they would make excellent critics of each others' techniques. (Lysithea literally does this in her supports with Leonie in Three Houses.) And they would listen to each other, because they both know the other one is serious, and giving valid, constructive criticism based on what they see. Neither of them is an expert in the other's field of expertise, but that could lead to them valuing the criticism all the more. Maybe a mage, who is covered by front-line fighters, has a different perspective seeing what the front-liners are doing from behind. Maybe someone on the front-lines knows what they need from the mages backing them up that they aren't getting currently.

If they had a romantic relationship, Leonie would absolutely fucking spoil Lysithea. Lysithea would complain about being treated like a weak child, but would love it nonetheless. "Oh, fine. I guess I'll let you carry all my heavy books, if it makes you happy! It's probably good training for you anyway. I could carry them myself, but fine, if you insist!"

Oh, but I would feel sorry for anyone who worked for them in any sort of accounting role. Between Leonie's rightfully-learned penny-pinching, and Lysithea's attention to detail and surely thorough record keeping, the smallest mistake in finances would be noticed immediately.

Actually, what am I saying? They do their taxes themselves. They're not paying someone to do that shit!

I think in a lot of ways, Lysithea potentially has more respect for Leonie than anyone else. Lysithea is very focused on the idea that hard work is the key, and she has little patience for people who glide by on privilege. Leonie is like the living example of that.

Claude

So one of my key impressions of Claude is that he is the most locked-the-fuck-in people when it comes to observing what drives other people. I think he is very, very person-focused, given his need to adjust to a leadership role in a place he didn't grow up, and the political situation of Leicester, where he can't easily order people around.

This means he is the world's most annoying person when he finds a weak point he can tease, because he will find the single most infuriating one. Oh, and he likes teasing.

So he drives Lysithea bonkers. She's too serious to deal with his crap, but she also isn't good enough at the kind of rapport needed to ever get back at him. She thinks of stuff to say back to him 3 days later.

But Claude is also very practical, and he is constantly looking for who is talented that can help him, and who is talented that is a threat to him. So he fundamentally respects Lysithea, and that's why they can learn to get along. None of this, that I'm saying, is radical; this is basically their Three Houses support chain.

But one of the things I'm most obsessed with in their relationship is what happens when Lysithea dissolves her house. For Claude, who is looking to balance power among the competing powerful houses so that he can come out on top, this would be a major factor to deal with.

If Ordelia ceases to exist, who takes their place at the roundtable? That could be a huge source of friction. Who gets their lands? Gloucester is nearby. Do they? They're already powerful, so that might be bad for Claude.

I think this could be something that Lysithea would hold over Claude's head, finally getting back at him after all those years of "Ooh! Ghosts!" What she does with her house, and its land and other privileges could have major effects on what political power Claude has to work with later.

Of course, they could also get married. And as much as Lysithea professes to hate politics, there's no way she could ignore the fascinating puzzle that is how to make people shut up and do what you want. She's advising Claude, even as she complains about how it interferes with her actual interests in magic research, She can't help it. These two are a scary, scary power couple.

But I think they would also make nice, casual friends who meet up once in a while for tea. That's cool too.

Hilda

I mentioned Hilda being a sleeper agent of chaos forces in my Hapi post, but I think she could play that role with Lysithea too. On the surface, they have very different interests, but I think Hilda's natural charm, and her perceptiveness of other people would allow her to get along with Lysithea surprisingly easily. One of my major interpretations of Hilda is that--as much as she is perceived as lazy, and tries to get out of manual labor--I think she does major fucking emotional labor in the background that she never gets credit for--and maybe she herself doesn't even realize how much she's doing.

I'm convinced that she is one of the characters who is most observant of other people in the cast. And you just know that--once the war starts--she is giving Claude regular reports on how everyone is doing, and how morale is, etc. And it's not because Claude is bad at observing people himself, he just respects expertise when he sees it.

So Hilda would "magically" (it's not magic, she's doing the work) get along with Lysithea. And Lysithea would genuinely identify with Hilda's low tolerance for formal bullshit, and her desire for freedom. In fact, Hilda would give her some important lessons in freedom. I mentioned in my Hapi post that I think Hapi and Hilda as students would play dumb pranks. And let me tell you, Lysithea is getting dragged into these. She knows she shouldn't. She thinks it's all stupid, but somehow the energy is infectious.

And she's going to enjoy herself despite herself.

Annette

I have nothing new to add here I'm sure. But they are so adorable together! Their combined nerd energy has the power to destroy solar systems, but they are smart enough that they will harness it to power all the lights in Fódlan that have still not been invented yet because the Church won't allow for electricity to be invented.

But it's fine, they'll invent the lights too.

I personally think that Annette would annoy Lysithea at first though. She's a little too chaotic for Lysithea's tastes. I share in the, "yeah she could use a Ritalin or three", interpretation that I've seen many other people make for Annette, and I can imagine that her conversations would tend to bounce around, and her nervous energy would be distracting for someone who thrives on calmness like Lysithea does.

Oh, and I imagine that she hums and / or taps her foot without realizing it when she's concentrating. She likes music too much not to. But it's another thing that would drive Lysithea up the wall.

Annette on the other hand would be immediately smitten with Lysithea. Another girl! Small like her! Also really smart and interested in magic! And Annette would bring up each and everyone of these similarities in a friendly effort to get to know Lysithea, and each and every one of them would annoy Lysithea.

"What does it matter if I'm a girl too? How is that relevant? Ugh, why do you need to bring attention to my height? I'm not 'smart', I work hard!"

(Aside from Lysithea, you know who else would get along well with Annette? Constance. No doubt. Though they would probably also mistakenly destroy the world. )

And poor Annette! She's had a surprisingly shit hand dealt to her in her life. Her father leaving is the most obvious one, but let me dwell on that one a bit.

In game, he is described as having left suddenly, just disappearing after Dimitri's father was killed. While the actual dialogue in-game implies that Annette thought that she could meet him again some day if she could find him, I have a different interpretation.

Given Faerghus's strong military culture, and tradition of loyalty, I think it's not hard to imagine that it's the kind of society where, if a knight suddenly disappears after their lord has been killed, it's safe to assume that they have followed their lord into the next world to cleanse their shame.

Ugh

So my personal (very upsetting) interpretation of Annette is that she didn't really even know if her father was still alive after disappearing. She held out hope-- a hope which part of her thought was false hope--and tried to go to Garreg Mach to see if she could find him again, but deep down she suspected that he was long gone from this world.

(I also imagine that Leicester doesn't have a tradition like this, and neither does Adrestia for that matter. Leicester is much more driven by practical matters of power and wealth, and Adrestia, while also steeped in tradition, is less overtly militaristic. In Adrestia, you can make an impression by performing a flawless tea ceremony.)

I also kind of imagine that Annette had a small pool of potential female friends in her class. This also is 100% head-canon, but I have this image of the Blue Lions class every year being overwhelmingly male, with girls generally only being sent if they are the only heirs in their families, like Ingrid and Annette. To all the Blue Lions fans out there, it might feel like I'm kinda dumping on Faerghus at this point, but I think there is a strong correlation between societies being very militaristic, and being very anti-female.

So getting back to Annette, I can imagine her being extra excited to meet Lysithea because she already has limited options for female friends in her own class.

Of course, I can't touch on Annette and Lysithea without mentioning that they would be excellent more-than-friends. Once they got to know each other, and Lysithea learned to accept Annette's humming (maybe she even comes to think it's adorable) and Annette learns that she must, in fact, leave Lysithea's tea cup in the exact same place every time she washes it, no not over there, here, it goes here, then I think they would be amazing with each other. It's like Lyisthea and Linhardt, but with more passion. Or Lysithea and Constance, but less toxic-you-are-so-annoying-shut-up-and-kiss-me. (Is less toxic good or bad? You decide!)

Petra

I decided to write this in an effort to purposefully stay away from too many obvious ones. I did Lysithea - Linhardt. I did Lysithea - Annette. I could say things about Lysithea - Edelgard, but what can I add that hasn't been said by others already, really?

So instead, let's think about Lysithea and Petra.

Double-you-tee-eff, you say? What could these two possibly have in connection? What?

Have you considered: Screwed by the empire? (Well, it wasn't actually the empire in Lysithea's case.)

Have you considered: Hard worker?

Have you considered: Lysithea would fucking love being able to teach Petra language stuff, and all about Fódlan's traditions that Petra is unfamiliar with?

It's like with Hapi (see my previous post) or Cyril (see GAME). Lysithea likes being able to be the expert. She genuinely enjoys imparting knowledge upon others.

And she has mad respect for a fellow hard worker.

Like, come on! How would these two not get along!?

Petra would absolutely take advantage of Lysithea's endless enthusiasm to help her out with whatever she doesn't understand about Fódlan. And I don't mean "take advantage" in a bad way. Lysithea would relish the chance to do this. This would be the honey on her toast. The sugar in her tea. The...molasses in her...um...what is molasses for?

And much like with Leonie, Petra has much to offer Lysithea.

*Begins sweating again*

Um, her...uh...physical prowess...it uh...

Oh goddess...

Sorry. Petra is good at many things that Lysithea is not. Like using weapons, hunting, walking up stairs without panting, reaching things on high shelves, etc.

And more importantly, Petra is proud.

Despite everything that has happened to her, she knows that Brigid and its culture is just fine and dandy. Brigid isn't inferior to Fódlan, despite what some ignorant Fódlanese nobles might say.

Lysithea is driven by anger, Petra is driven by pride.

That confidence is absolute, goddamn chocolate-covered crack for our little Lysithea.

Remember Ignatz and Marianne (the poor dears)? Lysithea lashes out at them because she feels their lack of confidence / depression viscerally, and it makes her uncomfortable and angry.

But Petra? No, Petra exudes confidence. She has had so much goddamn shit thrown her way:

Dead father? Check. (Well, it is Fire Emblem.)

Taken as hostage? Check.

Country forced to submit to weird, pale-ass barbarians? Check.

Made fun of by said pale-ass barbarians just because you don't speak their dumb language perfectly and don't know all their dumb pale-ass customs? Oh, big fucking check! 40-point font, even!

Even so, this is Petra: My people are having pride! So much pride! We are being like a rainbow of many colors of pride!

Lysithea wants this confidence. She needs it!

In Petra, she sees someone like herself, who has been beaten down by circumstances, but who has not given up. Whatever trials Lysithea has faced, Petra has faced something similar too.

I feel bad for whichever lord "wins" at the end of FE3H if Petra and Lysithea get married. Lysithea is powering up her lawyer skills--like lawyer Goku preparing a Spirit Suit--and finding the loopholes in every treaty ever signed between ANY entity in Fódlan and Brigid.

"Oh, you thought that Brigid had to send tribute every third year? Um, actually, according to this treaty signed by your neighboring fiefdom, to which you are subject, it is YOU who will be sending tribute. Oh, and it's not every third year. It's EVERY year. I expect to see those ships in Brigid's harbor soon, or you'll be hearing again from me."

So yeah, that was a lot of words to say that I see a lot of potential in a relationship between Lysithea and Petra, even if the sun's rays in Brigid would probably melt Lysithea in two seconds flat. She'll just become a hat woman.

Conclusion: Sure, why not?

This could be better edited, and I could add so much more, but I'll stop here. Lysithea would not approve of this messy imperfection, but I do need to give some other characters a chance as well. And there will be more. The Fódlan demons in my brain have not been satiated. Not yet.

[zyhkoo]

🎬 guilty as sin?

event, jason todd x afab reader. smut 18+, doll being used. event

( everybody knows he's bad news, but you cant help but yearn for him. )

🎥 NOW SHOWING: GUILTY AS SIN

"Stay away from him," was what the bat-family would always remind you each time you encountered Jason Todd. He wasn't the same Robin he once was, you knew that.

He had become a dangerous menace, a threat to the city, and a man beyond saving. The others feared him, the things he had done, but you saw a different side to the anti-hero, a vulnerability hidden behind his ruthless facade.

You couldn't help but reminisce about the days when Jason Todd was simply Robin, the boy wonder, fighting crime by your side. It seemed like only yesterday, but in reality, he had transformed into something completely different.

You found yourself contemplating how it all went so wrong, but at the same time, you knew exactly why.

Despite the difficulties, you found it hard to completely remove yourself from his presence. The strong bond you and Jason once shared made it challenging to completely sever ties. Thus, you found yourself unable to resist the pull, returning time and time again.

"Hey, focus!" Dick exclaimed, as he noticed you had drifted off into your own thoughts. "Are you even listening?"

You snapped out of your reverie, a bit disoriented. "Huh? What did you say?"

Dick crossed his arms, "Jeez, I've been talking to you for a minute, and you were completely zoned out. What's got you so distracted?"

You shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed that you had spaced out completely. "Just... thinking, I guess," you replied, looking away.

Dick raised an eyebrow, studying you closely. "It's about Jason, isn't it?"

You were caught off guard by his question, “What? No.” you quickly replied.

Dick, sensing your defensiveness, gave you a skeptical look. "Come on, don't lie to me," he said, his tone gentle yet firm. "You're terrible at hiding it."

You sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to deceive him. "Okay, fine," you conceded. "I was thinking about Jason. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that Jason is dangerous," he reminded you, "He's not the same guy we knew. He's changed, and not for the better."

You mumbled under your breath, mimicking the words Dick had just spoken in a mocking tone.

Dick shot a disapproving look at you. "This isn't a game," he scolded, his expression turning serious. "You can't just dismiss the dangers that come with being in contact with Jason. He's unpredictable and violent. You have no idea what he's capable of."

You listened as Dick continued talking about another subject, but your mind was too preoccupied to fully focus on his words. You tried to remain engaged in the conversation, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Jason.

The sky painted itself with hues of orange as the sun began to dip below the horizon, bathing the city in a warm, comforting glow. Jason stood on the roof, his hands resting on the railings, immersed in deep contemplation.

The silence was broken by your soft footsteps as you approached him from behind. He looked back at you, hand ready to grab on his holster as you cut him off.

“Hey, it’s me.” you immediately said as you removed your domino mask.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.

You shrugged, leaning against the railing next to him. "I saw you up here," you replied, gesturing to the panoramic view of Gotham City spread out before you. "Figured I'd come keep you company."

Jason glanced at you. "Why would you want to do that?" he asked, crossing his arms. "You know the others would have a fit if they saw us together."

You huffed a soft sigh, looking out at the city. "I know that," you acknowledged, your voice tinged with resignation. "But that doesn't stop me from wanting to check in on you once in a while."

Jason's expression remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the distance. "I can take care of myself, you know," he replied. "I don't need anyone checking in on me."

You watched as Jason walked away, his lone figure disappearing into the shadows as disappointment washed over you.

Your shoulders slumped as you found yourself alone on the rooftop. It seemed like no matter how many times you tried to reach out to him, he would always push you away.

You felt trapped, bored and restless, like a bird in a cage. You had once found contentment in this situation, but now it felt suffocating. Was it appropriate to feel frustrated? Were you allowed to cry?

Time passed, and you found yourself growing increasingly distracted. Missions mandated team-ups sometimes, but you were consistently prohibited from missions involving Jason. You couldn't help but feel frustrated by the constant monitoring and restrictions.

Despite your best efforts to focus on other aspects of your life, you couldn't shake the persistent thought of Jason. You found yourself wondering what it would be like if he were still by your side, if he still cared for you.

You sat alone on the roof again, your head buried in your hands. The failure of the previous mission weighed heavily on your mind, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment in yourself.

Your friends, the rest of Bat-family, observed your repeated mistakes. They pointed out that you were distracted, unable to focus on your missions due to your preoccupation with Jason. They were correct; your fixation on him led to failures and lapses in performance.

The weight of their words and the restrictions that came with it all felt overwhelmingly suffocating. You yearned for freedom, to act on your own accord, without the watchful eyes and constant scrutiny from the Bat-family.

You tensed up as you heard heavy footsteps approaching. Before you even turned around, you recognised the distinct gait and knew exactly who it was.

"Still moping, I see." Jason's tone was nonchalant yet slightly mocking, his presence felt like a sudden weight in the air.

You took a deep breath and slowly looked up at him, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I'm not moping," you retorted, your voice defensive. "I'm just thinking."

Your gaze shifted back to Jason as you noticed that he had removed his helmet, revealing his familiar face. The intensity of those sky blue eyes met yours, and involuntarily, you found yourself staring into them.

You sighed as you removed your own mask. “If your helmet is off, then I’m going to guess you wanted to talk.”

Jason leaned against the railing beside you, the night air rustling silently around you both. "You're not wrong," he admitted, his voice slightly gruff. "I came up here for a reason."

Curious, you turned to face him fully, the city lights casting a glow on his face. "And what would that reason be?" you asked.

Jason paused, his expression serious as he studied you for a moment. "I've been watching you," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Your performance on missions lately has been... lacking."

You couldn't help but let out a frustrated groan as Jason brought up the subject. "Don't start," you protested, your voice filled with resignation. "I don't want to talk about this."

Jason's eyebrow raised slightly at your response. "Why not?" he questioned, his gaze boring into you. "It's pretty obvious something's weighing on you."

You fidgeted under his intense stare, knowing deep down that he was right. "It's complicated," you answered, looking away. You raised your brow “Shouldn’t you be glad that I’m failing them anyway?”

Jason huffed, the corner of his lip curling slightly. "Fair point," he conceded, "I should be, but I’m not. I don't want you to be failing missions. I don't want you putting yourself in danger because you're too distracted."

You were taken aback by his unexpected response. "Why do you care?" you asked, “You're not exactly known for worrying about anyone else's welfare, let alone a vigilante like me."

Jason's expression remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a hint of vulnerability. "It's not that I care," he said gruffly, looking away. "And you're not just any vigilante. You're..." He trailed off.

You scoffed, “I’m what? Your best friend?” Jason's gaze snapped back towards you.

"What if you are?" he shot back, his tone defiant. "We have a history, whether you like it or not. You still mean something to me, and I don't like seeing you in danger because of some distraction."

You held his gaze as you shook your head, “But, do you not feel betrayed? After what happened to you? Surely, you’re angry at me as well.”

"I do feel betrayed," He admitted, his voice low and bitter. "I'm angry, hurt, and... disappointed. You know exactly what I went through, what they did to me. But in some strange way, I can't bring myself to hate you."

You looked into the city in front of you, getting lost by the hundreds of lights being lit up. “I’d understand why you became like this, but still caring about me is something I don’t understand.”

Jason leaned against the railing, mirroring your gaze and looking out at the cityscape below. "Honestly," he spoke, his voice laced with a mix of bitterness and resignation, "I don't understand it either. It's a messed-up thing, you know? Caring about someone who was partially responsible for your downfall."

You remained silent, the truth of his words hanging in the air like a bitter potion. It was a contradiction neither of you could explain, but it existed nonetheless. In a strange way, despite the anger and bitterness he felt, Jason still cared about you.

You shifted your gaze towards him, studying his profile in the soft glow of the city lights. "I never wanted any of this to happen," you said softly, a hint of remorse in your voice. "If I could go back and change things, I would… in a heartbeat."

Jason's words hovered in midair as your phone rudely cut in. You glanced at the screen, seeing Dick's name. You let out a frustrated sigh, knowing what that meant. "I need to go.” you told him.

Jason's shoulders slumped slightly, his expression unreadable. "Right," he said curtly, "Go, then. Can't have Nightwing coming after me for keeping you here too long."

As time continued to pass by, the yearning you shared with Jason remained unchanged. Although neither of you spoke about it, the unspoken connection between you was palpable.

The uncertainty and confusion of your dreams left you questioning yourself further. Were you going mad, or was there some profound wisdom hidden within these visions? Each night brought more unanswered questions, more tangled thoughts, and a growing sense of unease within you.

Your thoughts continued to be haunted by visions and memories of what was never. You yearned for the passionate embrace and messy kisses that remained just out of reach. The guilt of wanting more without ever truly having him weighed heavily on your heart. It felt like a sin, to long for something that could never be true.

On a rational level, you knew that mere thoughts and desires were not inherently bad. It was true that only actions had consequences. As long as you refrained from acting on your feelings and touched him, you were not doing anything wrong.

Your mind was consumed by the fiery desire that seared through you, the intensity building like towering waves, crashing over the boundaries of your control. The sheets of your bed felt ablaze as you yearned for the touch of his skin, the taste of his lips, and the overwhelming heat of his embrace.

One week had passed without encountering him, and you thought it was for the best. You found yourself sitting in your apartment, going about your business, when to your surprise, you noticed a familiar silhouette in the fire escape outside your window.

“….”

“…”

“Drat.” Jason mumbled.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you saw Jason standing on the fire escape outside your window. “Jason?” you called his name softly,. “What are you… what are you doing here?”

“Was just in the neighborhood, y’know,” he said simply. “And I saw you through the window. Thought I’d drop by." Jason groaned and got straight to the point, “I wanted to see you,” he said bluntly.

A part of you was happy to see him, to hear him say that he missed you. But another part of you was wary, knowing that your presence together was a very risky endeavor.

“Jason…” you began, torn between your feelings and the consequences of indulging in this situation. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Dick- the others they could find out.” Jason rolled his eyes, “Since when do we care about what they think?” he retorted. “Besides, I’m more than capable of slipping in and out unnoticed.” You crossed your arms “What do you need anyway?”

Jason’s gaze flicked up and down your figure, “I just wanted to see you,” he said, his voice a little softer this time.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “Is it so wrong to want to check on my… friend?” he sighs, getting straight to the point. “I don’t need anything specific. Just… wanted to see you. Make sure you are okay, I guess.”

“You can come in,” you said, as you stepped back to give him

Jason acknowledged your invitation with a small nod, and silently climbed through the window. He entered your apartment. “Nice place you got here,” he said, his gaze taking in his surroundings. “Very… cozy.”

You led him in your living room and turned to him, “So how long have you been spying me exactly?”

“Long enough to know you like to read in your spare time,” he quipped, gesturing towards the stack of books on your coffee table. “But to answer your question, I just got here. I wasn’t stalking you or anything,” he added. You scoffed, “What a jerk.”

“Rude much?” he grumbled under his breath, feigning offence. “I’m just concerned about you, can’t a guy worry about his friend?”

“Well not when said guy is sneaking around her apartment.” you argued back “Fine you got me.” he rolls his eyes.

“Jason, what’s going to happen for the both of us?” you asked, your eyes darting on the floor. It was hard to look at him. “You can’t have me, and I can’t have you. So now what?” Jason crossed his arms, “You know I don’t have an answer for that.” His frustration was evident, “What do you want me to say?” he asked you. “It is what it is. We’re stuck in a messy, complicated situation, and there’s no easy way out.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say either so that’s why I’m asking you.” you argued back.

“Why do you think I’m here, huh? I’m just as confused and frustrated as you are! There’s no easy answer to this. I care about you, and you care about me.” he scowls, “So what are we supposed to do?” asked, almost repeating your question. “Ignore this? Pretend we don’t feel anything?”

You huffed, “Well, you just want to solve this because I’m your weak point.” you coldy said. Jason’s jaw tensed at your words. “You really think that’s all this is?” he snapped, hurt laced in his voice.

“You think I’ve been coming here all this time because you’re my ‘weak point’? You think it’s just some convenience?”

You felt guilty for saying something so impulsive, "Look, I don't mean.."

“No,” Jason cut you off, his eyes narrowing. “You know damn well what you said. You think I’m just using you because you’re my ‘weakness’? You think I’m that shallow?”

He clenched his fists, trying to control his rising anger. “I’ve been risking everything just to see you, to be near you, and that’s how you think of me? As someone who just sees you as an easy escape?”

“I-”

“Save it,” he interrupted you again, his voice icy. “If that’s what you really think of me, then maybe it’s better if I just leave.”mJason turned away from you, heading back towards the window, his movements stiff and filled with pent-up frustration.

You immediately grabbed his wrist, "Please wait." Jason froze at your touch, his arm tensing at your hold. He didn’t turn to face you, but he didn’t pull away either. "I'm sorry Jason.." you said "Don't leave, I cannot bear to lose you again," He turned back towards you slowly, “Why do you have to make this so difficult?”

You closed your eyes, your hand clutching his wrist as you silently waited for more things he had to say.

In a moment of impulse, he pulled you into a passionate kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, his lips meeting yours with desire and desperation. Your eyes widened, not expecting the sudden gesture but kissed him back. The kiss deepened as Jason’s grip around you tightened, the dam of pent-up emotions finally breaking. He kissed you fiercely, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth as he pulled you closer, pressing your body against his.

The kiss was desperate, a culmination of months of longing and unspoken desire. Jason's hands roamed over your body. He guided you backwards until you bumped against the wall, trapping you. He broke the kiss momentarily, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. His eyes burned into yours, the intensity in his gaze almost overwhelming, “Damn you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, “I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want this.”

"I've been thinking so much about this." you huffed as you looked deep into his eyes "Please tell me you do too." you pleaded.

Jason’s gaze softened as he looked into your eyes, his hands cupping your face gently. “You think I can deny it at this point?” he said, a hint of a wry smile on his lips. “You think I’d be kissing you like this if I didn’t want it just as bad?” His thumbs traced over your cheeks, his touch gentle. “I dream about you,” he confessed, his voice low and rough. “All the time. I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how much I try to push you away.”

Jason lifted you off your feet, his strong arms effortlessly carrying you to your bedroom. His eyes never left yours, the heat of his gaze burning with desire. He kicked the door shut with his foot before laying you down carefully on the bed, his body hovering over you.

Clothes were scattered on the floor as the room was filled with nothing but ruffles of fabric and blissful moans. The two of you wore nothing but underwear. He lets out a low hum, a small smile playing on his lips as he stares down at you. "So pretty for me,”

He slowly leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, then the tip of your nose. Jason's eyes roam over your features as if he's trying to commit them to memory. He lets go of your hands to lean down even further, his lips now pressing sloppy kisses along your neck. He slowly starts to grind against you, letting you feel how excited he is.

The sight of you like this, splayed out beneath him, is enough to nearly bring him to his knees. "You're so perfect," he praises.

He slowly slides his hands down from your hips to hook his fingers in the waistband of your panties. His fingers trail across your skin, teasing as he slides the fabric across your skin. "Can I take these off now, doll?" Your breath hitched as you nodded, “Yes.” His head was nestled in your legs as he looked at you with those beautiful eyes. He doesn’t speak any more, he just closes the distance. His tongue immediately flattens against your core, giving a slow, broad lick.

Your hands reach out to his hair, holding Jason in place. His lips close around your clit as he gives it a sharp suck and you moan. Jason groans, the sound coming from deep within his chest, and his hold on you tightens even more, holding you firmly in place.

“You’re so sweet, doll,” he murmurs, his mouth now shiny with spit. “Can’t wait to hear more of your pretty noises.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his head dipping down again to continue his meal.

He lets his tongue explore your center, lapping up every bit of you he could. He alternates between slow, languid laps and quick flicks of his tongue, wanting to hear every noise that comes out of your mouth.

“Mnn- m’ close..” you groaned.

He keeps his pace, his tongue working against you as his mouth doesn’t stop moving. “Then come for me, darlin’. I want you to come undone.” he murmurs in your pussy.

You whined, “But I wanna save it for you..”

He lifts his head to look at you, a lazy smirk on his face. His lips are glistening and his chin is glistening, his expression one of pure hunger. “You’re so sweet.” he smirks. “Then be a good girl and wait,” he murmurs. His fingers dig into your thighs a little harder, keeping you in place on the bed.

“I’ll make it worth the wait, I promise.” he says, his eyes never leaving your own. “Just gotta hold on for a little longer. Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded “Y-yeah.. I can wait.” His eyes flick up to yours while he’s working on you, a small hum in his throat as he feels your fingers tangling in his hair.

He lets out a small moan, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of your touch. His own excitement is building too, his hips now rutting against the bed for some kind of friction. “Jay- god.. please..” you whispered. He hums again, the vibration rumbling against your skin. “Please what, darling’? Use your words.” he rasps, his mouth not stopping its work.

“Please.. m’ want you..”

“That’s my good girl.” he mutters, letting out a small huff. He lets go of your thighs, finally freeing you from his grasp. His eyes still haven’t left yours, his expression hung and hungry. His face is so messy. You can see your cum coating his lips and chin. Your hand reaches out to his face, fixing his messy hair and dirty face. Jason slowly starts to crawl up the bed now, his arms on either side of you as he covers your body with his own.

He leans down to press a kiss to your mouth, the heat from his body radiating against you. “Gonna make you feel so good, doll.” he mumbles into the kiss.

He grinds against you a bit, letting you feel the effect that you have on him. “You’re making this so hard, doll,” he groans, burying his head in the crook of your neck. His hands grip your hips as he slowly starts to push forward, a low moan coming from his lips as he does. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“I-its big..” you whimpered. “I know, I know..” he murmurs, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips. His own head is starting to get fuzzy, his breaths coming out in pants “You’re doing so good for me, doll.” You moaned in bliss as he started to move. Jason doesn’t waste any time before thrusting in the sensitive walls of your core. “That’s my sweet girl, you’re so good f’ me. Taking me in so well.” he whispered in your ear.

“So perfect, so beautiful. I’m all yours baby, i’ll make ya feel so good..” his movements a combination of gentle and rough, as he showered you with kisses and touches.

There was no more need for words, no more need for confessions or explanations. The touch of his skin on yours, the sound of your soft gasps, the heat of your bodies interlocking -- that was all the evidence you both needed.

As the night drew to an end, you lay spent and laid in each other's arms. Jason's head rested on your chest, one arm draping over your waist as he listened to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.He traced mindless patterns on your skin, his fingers mapping out the contours of your body. “You know this still doesn’t solve anything right?” he muttered eventually.

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[solomons-poison]

Overworked

Lucifer x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: Uhhhh inspired by some history of burn out at work... >>; and just general issues with perfectionist ideas. Honestly, this has been in my drafts for nearly two years now. I was unhappy with how it sounded, but much like the message in this piece, I realized I need to be okay with less-than-perfect things. So cleaned it up a little bit and here you go. Written and edited on mobile so please excuse any formatting issues

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: GN reader, angst to fluff, general insecurities, crying, reader ignoring signs of sickness; Lucifer fluff, no established relationship but Lucifer is very soft on reader~

: ̗̀➛ Word Count: 4652

You should have known something was coming on before it got this bad, but unfortunately, you had a bad habit of ignoring body signals, which was ultimately your downfall.

You'd been feeling... off, for the past couple of days. More exhausted than usual, decreased appetite, just generally run down. You often found yourself in a daze, losing concentration on anything that wasn't your work assignments. It didn't help that the coursework at R.A.D. was naturally more difficult for you as a human, dealing with school subjects you never dreamed of or would ever encounter in the human realm. It was also a busy time in the school year, with big exams coming up and the workload increasing in difficulty by the day, so you attributed your exhaustion to this and wrote it off. Of course, by the time you realized what was going on, it was too late. This was mistake #1.

You woke up in the morning to your blaring alarm, feeling tired and sluggish again, and noticed the missed alarms on your phone. Although you occasionally slept through one or two alarms, you almost never slept this late unless you wanted to. But you didn't have time to think about the reasons and rationale on why your body sought so much extra rest. Instead, you pushed yourself through your confusion and sleepiness to get dressed and head down for breakfast as quickly as possible, hoping Lucifer wouldn't punish you too harshly. Mistake #2.

As you started to leave your room, you couldn't help but shiver a little and quickly grabbed a cardigan to wear over your uniform. It wasn't unusual for the air to feel chilly in the Devildom, thanks to the lack of sunlight. However, the chill seemed to be bone-deep this morning, and something in you felt the cardigan was going to be no help. In general, everything in you was screaming to take a day off and rest, but one of your classes had a quiz later that day that you knew you couldn't miss. Once again, you found yourself pushing forward regardless of the glaring warning signs in your peripheral vision.

Mistake #3.

By the time you made it to the dining room, everyone was already seated, including Belphie, a true testament to just how much you overslept. Everyone turned to glance at you except Beel, who was more focused on his food as per usual. Part of your brain noticed Lucifer looking at you a moment longer than the others, but it was forgotten as the second born pointed his fork at you accusingly.

"Finally, human! I thought ya were gonna sleep all day, with your alarm goin' off like that," he said.

"Sorry, Mammon. I guess I must have been sleeping pretty deeply," you replied, smiling sheepishly. You knew he was mostly pulling your leg, but your phone alarms had a tendency to be on the loud side and felt guilty for disturbing any of the brothers with the noise. "I don't even remember going to bed either."

"I don't think that's unusual, I do that all the time," Belphie piped up from down the table, earning pointed looks from the others.

You didn't miss the way the eldest brother's eyes sneaked up to look at you upon hearing your statement, though, clearly studying your face.

"Are you feeling alright, MC? You do seem to look rather tired this morning," Lucifer commented, eyebrows drawn together in concern.

You knew the second you made eye contact you'd be doomed to an interrogation, so you barely spared a glance before training your gaze on your breakfast as you responded. "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm sure I just stayed up too long studying for this quiz I've got today." But even as you said the words, you knew something wasn't right, and it only seemed to be getting worse the longer you sat there.

You could feel it in the air that Lucifer was unsatisfied with that answer, but he remained silent and you continued on with your food.

By the time you'd finished your breakfast, only a few brothers remained in the dining room after your late arrival. Beel and Belphie were both there. But strangely enough, it was Lucifer still being there that really confused you, given his penchant for being early to everything. Unfortunately, your fatigue-addled brain simply couldn't put forth the effort to think hard about the reason. The chill from earlier had now settled deep in your bones, and everything about the situation was screaming "wrong!!".

Once again ignoring the strange phenomena, you stood to bring your dishes back to the kitchen, but you were hit almost instantly by a wave of dizziness and shivering, knees buckling and your vision turning dark as you stumbled forward. You managed to catch yourself on a chair and stayed upright, but all three brothers were instantly on their feet. Lucifer got to you first, his gloved hand gripping your upper arm to steady you further.

"MC! Are you all right? What's wrong?" he questioned, voice rich with concern and a deep frown on his face. Beel and Belphie crowded around, watching you for any risk of falling.

You took a moment to breathe, cold sweat running down your back, fighting hard against the sensations running through your body, and worked up the strength to look up at the first born. "I'm OK. Sorry," you said, smiling shakily, but Lucifer's frown only deepened at your response. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"This is more than fatigue, MC. Are you certain you're not sick?"

You gathered the strength to stand a little taller. As you did, something in the back of your brain was yelling at you again that this was a mistake, to sit back down, to call out sick, rest, anything but go to class. But your stubbornness and anxiety won out, knowing that missing just the one class would really put you behind your studies, and you prided yourself on your ability to work hard on your own. You hadn't spent months of pushing yourself, working overtime and scouring textbook after textbook, to quit now from some measly sickness. Your brain just couldn't rationalize any other way around it.

"Really, Lucifer, I'm OK. You don't need to worry so much—" you managed to say, but as the last words left your mouth, your last bit of strength finally ran out, and a blanket of darkness came down on your vision as you lost consciousness.

“MC–!” “Hey!” Multiple voices called out as you passed out in front of them.

Beel caught your body as you fell back out of Lucifer's hold, and he quickly picked up your legs to hold onto your unconscious body. He could feel the heat radiating off your skin and a sad frown twisted his features.

"I think they have a fever," he said, holding you close to himself, and Belphie leaned in to take a closer look at your face.

Lucifer could feel his face fall at Beel's statement, but steeled himself quickly before either of his brothers could notice. However, all it would take is a closer look to see the worry evident in his dark ruby eyes. He sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as he quickly made up a plan to deal with this new development.

"Beel, could you bring MC up to their room?" Lucifer asked. "I'm going to contact Solomon for some medicine to help with their illness." Beel nodded and started to leave the dining room with you cradled in his arms, Belphie following close behind. However, just before they stepped through the doorway, Lucifer stopped them briefly. "And do not bring this up with the others. If anyone else hears MC is sick, they're all going to leave class to come here and MC needs to rest. I will tell them when it’s appropriate."

He could tell both younger brothers wanted to say something about that, but luckily, they simply nodded and continued on their way. Once he was alone, Lucifer took a moment to himself to stop and breathe, anxiety coursing through his veins at the situation. But he shook it off as best he could before sending a notice out to Solomon, and another notice to Lord Diavolo and Barbatos to alert about your absence. He would have time to fret later, but for now, he needed to focus on you and making sure that you were taken care of. The last thing he needed was to let something terrible happen to one of the human exchange students and possibly disappoint Lord Diavolo… at least, that's what he told himself. But really, he knew it was more than that. Pushing those thoughts away, he shook his head and moved onwards, focusing on the task at hand.

After sending his messages, he quickly gathered some basic supplies, washcloths and a bowl for water to make a cold compress, as well as an extra blanket, and brought them up to your room where Belphie and Beel were waiting. You'd been laid out on your bed covered by a light blanket, your face contorted in discomfort. Lucifer could feel his heart twist in his chest at your visible pain.

"I will take over from here, you can go now," he said, setting down his supplies and removing his cloak.

Belphie frowned, crossing his arms in frustration. "MC is sick, we're not going anywhere. Class can wait–" he started, but Lucifer cut him off with a glare.

"No, you are not staying here," Lucifer said definitively. "MC needs to rest, and they cannot do that with a crowd in the room. Solomon is on his way here with medicine and I will be taking care of them in the meantime."

Belphie practically bristled, the tension in the room almost palpable between the eldest and youngest brothers, but Beel placed a hand on Belphie's shoulder, attempting to calm him down.

"Look, I don't care if you don't attend class today," Lucifer continued, his stress levels exhausting him of energy to fight. "But I want MC to get the rest they need. Until Solomon arrives and we can contact a more knowledgeable physician on human illnesses, we don't know how sick they are. I will keep you updated if anything changes, but for now, you must leave."

Beel and Belphie were silent for a long minute, not breaking eye contact with Lucifer. Eventually, they relented, however, and Belphie sighed, turning away towards the door.

"Fine, we'll go. Come on, Beel," Belphie muttered, going out the door with one last glance to your sleeping form.

Beel started to follow, but turned to Lucifer at the last moment. “We can pick up some food for MC to help them feel better. Would that be okay?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened at the request before softening, knowing his brothers were simply worried about their precious human. He nodded, and Beel smiled happily. “Yes, that will be fine. I believe easy to eat foods will be best, something to make into a soup or broth. I’ll also ask Solomon for recommendations on human world foods.”

“Awesome, I’ll tell Belphie,” Beel replied, smiling back, and headed out the door.

Now that Lucifer was finally alone with you, he heaved a great sigh that was almost too loud for the sudden silence. He shed his coat, placing it over the chair at your desk, before rolling up his sleeves and removing his gloves. He retrieved some cool water from your bathroom and dipped the washcloth in, then took a seat beside your bed, wringing the washcloth before pressing it to your forehead.

The fever had caused a sweat to break out, and your face was twisted in pain even in your sleep. The sound of your labored breathing weighed heavily on Lucifer's mind. But the cooling effects of the washcloth seemed to alleviate your discomfort a little as your face relaxed, and seeing you a little more comfortable eased the ache in his heart. The weight that had been sitting on his shoulders ever since you fainted lifted a little, giving him the slightest bit of relief, and he turned around to refresh your washcloth.

“Mmm.. Lu..cifer…”

Lucifer’s ears perked up almost embarrassingly fast upon hearing you say his name, and his head whipped around to look at you. However, it was evidently just talking in your sleep as your eyes remained closed and your breathing was even. He reached over to pull the blanket up, tucking you in, and did his best to ignore the pounding of his heart.

Although you two weren't a couple, you still seemed to hold a special place in his heart alongside his brothers. You were family now, but even that word didn't seem sufficient for the way he felt. And seeing you so sick all of a sudden gave him a greater shock than he was prepared for. It was moments like this that he realized how truly mortal you were, that you didn’t recover from sickness the same way Lucifer and his brothers could.

He couldn’t even be sure of what you were sick with. For all he knew, he was overreacting and you were likely fine. But still, the fear of the unknown settled deep in his heart, unable to rest until he could get an answer. For now, all he could do was swallow down his worries and continue on with what he was doing, trying to ignore the desperate aching in his chest.

Half an hour passed before a knock resounded at your bedroom door, and Lucifer okayed entry without taking his eyes off of you. He was settled back in your chair, sleeves still rolled up in an unusual display of casualness, although his crossed arms betrayed his true feelings. Solomon quietly opened the door, peeking his head in before entering, a small satchel in his arms that clinked softly as he moved it. Barbatos had come with him and trailed through silently, letting Solomon take the lead.

“Wow, MC really is sick,” Solomon commented, seeing your quiet form tucked in on the bed. However, he wasn’t sure which to be more surprised by, the fact you had fallen ill like this or the sight of Lucifer dressed down, sitting at your bedside.

Lucifer sighed, moving his stiff form now to turn and look at your guests. “Yes, they were looking awful all during breakfast, and after getting up from their chair, they just fainted. I’m not sure what it is, but they have some kind of fever. I’ve been applying this compress but of course we don’t have any human world medicine here.”

Solomon nodded, setting down his satchel on the top of your desk. “I’ve brought a potion that will help bring down their fever for now,” he said, removing a carefully packaged vial filled with a fascinating colored liquid. “Unfortunately, I’m not a doctor so I can’t treat the root cause, but I’ll do my best until a physician can get here.”

“That’s fine, thank you,” Lucifer said, nodding. He glanced at Barbatos, who was standing silently at the foot of your bed. “I didn’t expect you to come here, Barbatos. Did you need something?”

Barbatos only shook his head.

“No, when I received your message that MC was sick, I thought it best to bring some tea for them to drink," he replied, bringing forward a small tin. "Peppermint tea is supposed to provide some medicinal properties, such as relieving fever and nausea. Once MC is awake, perhaps they can drink it to help their symptoms. I've also called on the services of a doctor who is familiar with human health and illnesses, they should be arriving soon."

Lucifer accepted it, taking the tin and placing it on your bedside table. "Yes, that will be good, thank you," he said, prompting a small smile from the butler.

Lucifer reached over and gently shook your shoulders, feeling terrible for waking you but wanting to get the potion in your body already. “MC, can you hear me?” he said softly, and your face scrunched a little in response. “Solomon has brought some medicine to help your fever, you should try to take some.”

Solomon and Barbatos couldn't help glancing at each other at the demon's gentle tone.

"Lucifer..?" You mumbled, bleary eyes blinking several times as you struggled to wake up.

"Yes, it's me," he responded, heart fluttering again at the sound of your voice. "Do you remember what happened? You had passed out after breakfast."

"Oh. That's wild."

Lucifer couldn't help himself as his eyebrows shot up at your response, which was obviously the product of still being half-asleep. But it was a very you response, and he refrained from laughing. He opened his mouth to continue, but was cutoff as you suddenly gasped, shooting up from the bed.

"My quiz! What happened to my quiz?" you shouted, but the outburst was short-lived as the sudden change in elevation made you waver, your fatigued body not strong enough to handle this.

Lucifer caught your body as you started to fall backwards, and he gently eased you back onto your pillow. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Of all the things to think about now, a quiz was on your mind?

"You passed out in front of me and you're worried about a quiz?" he couldn't help but question. "Diavolo was made aware of what happened, you don't have to worry about your class. We're more concerned with your fever, we think you may be sick."

Solomon took the chance to step forward, grabbing the colorful vial he'd brought earlier.

"Here, MC, this potion should help you feel better for now. But we're trying to find you a doctor just to make sure everything is okay," he said, uncorking the vial. Despite your dubious look, you accepted and drank it down with his help before settling back down on the pillow. You could immediately feel the effects of the potion, already getting some relief from the fatigue in your body and the cold sweats plaguing you.

Barbatos also took the opportunity to speak up, stepping up to the end of your bed. “I’ve also brought you some peppermint tea leaves. Please let me know if you’d like me to brew some tea for you. The Young Lord is wishing for your speedy recovery.”

“Thanks, Solomon, that does make me feel a little better. And not right now, Barbatos, but that does sound really good, I appreciate it. Please tell Diavolo thank you for me, as well.” You closed your eyes for a moment, relaxing against your pillow, before opening them again and looking at the three people in your room. “I’m sorry for worrying everyone, I promise I’ll get better soon.”

Lucifer only shook his head at you, pulling up your blanket around your body and tucking you in.

“You can hardly blame us for worrying about you, you have left a strong impression on all of us. Just focus on resting for now, a physician should be coming by soon,” he said, a slight smile on his lips. The other two smiled back at you, as well, before Solomon said his goodbyes and left.

Barbatos stayed behind to wait, eventually making you the tea in the meantime and just involving you in some small talk to comfort you. Once the physician arrived, Barbatos and Lucifer both left to give you some privacy, nervously waiting outside your door for the results. Lucifer even settled on the ground against the wall, sleeves still rolled up and hair a mess, uncharacteristically ruffled.

Although you had seemed in better spirits after taking Solomon’s potion and resting, Lucifer still felt restless, waiting for your assessment to be finished. When he heard your door click open, it was almost embarrassing how quickly he shot to his feet, afraid for the worst. But the physician quickly assuaged his fears.

Despite the fever and the passing out, everything pointed to simple burnout, caused by you overworking yourself in an attempt to get ahead. You would need to wait out the remainder of the fever, taking medicine as needed to help it along. But overall, the most important thing you needed now was rest, and plenty of it. Thankfully, that would be easy enough to arrange.

Unfortunately, the answer was not a surprising one. Lucifer knew that, despite the offers from him and the other RAD council members, you often declined on any kind of assistance or tutoring with your work. His own sin prompted him to say it was pride that prevented you from accepting outside help. But he knew that in general, you felt it could be a weakness, especially being in an environment with those that still looked down on humans and were uncertain of your place in their society. Deeper than that, he also knew you considered yourself a burden, trying to reduce your presence whenever possible, leaving you to work twice as hard to complete the same tasks.

Sometimes he wished that you would rely on him a little more, come to him when you needed help or just a listening ear. But if anyone understood the need to maintain their pride, it was the the Avatar of Pride himself. Lucifer also knew he hadn’t always been the most supportive, memories of your new arrival and the way he treated you burned into his mind like a shameful brand, so he couldn’t blame you for keeping things to yourself. But maybe, after this whole episode was resolved and you were back to full health, things could be different.

He stepped into your room once the physician departed, and you were sitting up in bed, propped up by your pillows. You were already looking much better than earlier, and it eased his heart immensely. Lucifer didn’t even need to say anything, as your sheepish expression said it all, but he still wanted to make sure of something.

“I trust you understand what the doctor has told you about your condition and what to do now,” he said. He couldn’t help gravitating towards you, ending up at the side of your bed once more.

You nodded, squeezing your hands nervously in front of you.

“I know, I understand,” you said, your voice meek and rough from your exhaustion.

Honestly, the whole thing was embarrassing. You were just trying to keep up with your classmates, make sure you weren’t embarrassing the Prince of the Devildom or the Seven Avatars that were hosting you in their home. And for a while, it seemed to be working. Sure you felt a little tired, but at least your grades were exemplary. But of course, it couldn’t be that easy, or stay that easy.

As you recalled what happened up until you passed out, and bits and pieces of Lucifer caring for you afterwards came to mind, you found yourself unable to make eye contact. Your body felt hot again, but it wasn’t the fever this time. Not only did you end up passing out from your efforts, but it was Lucifer that took care of you in the end. It was mortifying, truly. But almost as if sensing your feelings, Lucifer sat at the edge of your bed, his still-uncovered hand moving to cover both of yours.

The touch surprised you, making you look up finally, but his next words were what truly took you off guard.

“I know that you feel you have to work hard to keep up with your studies,” Lucifer said, squeezing your hands gently. “And while we— Diavolo and I— appreciate your efforts, the whole point of you coming to the Devildom was not to get good grades. You are part of the exchange program, but you are also our guest. I know we have not always been as welcome as we should have been, but we hope that you can come to us when you feel that you’re struggling. At least, I hope that you can come to me, if you are struggling.”

You couldn’t help it as your eyes widened. A soft look you’d never noticed before filled Lucifer’s face, a reassuring smile gracing his lips. You’d seen a lot of expressions cross Lucifer’s face, but this was the rarest of all, and one you never expected to be aimed towards you.

This, combined with his words, was all too much for you at once. Suddenly, your vision was swimming and something wet was falling down one of your cheeks, dripping onto your shirt. Almost immediately, Lucifer’s smile dropped in panic, and through your tears, you could just barely make out his mouth opening and closing as he struggled for words.

“Oh—” Damn it. Lucifer wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting when he told you how he felt, but it certainly wasn’t tears. He quickly reached up, brushing away your tears with his fingers, his touch awkward but achingly gentle. Of course, his touch only made you cry harder.

“I– I’m sorry, MC, it wasn’t my intention to make you cry,” he said, finally remembering a handkerchief he keeps in his vest, and patted your cheeks with it, trying desperately to slow your tears.

You struggled to calm yourself down, wanting to reassure the demon of any misunderstanding.

“I-it’s not that,” you said, involuntary gasps breaking up your words. “I just feel so stupid. Like I just keep making the same dumb mistakes over and over again, no matter what. And now here I am, sick in bed and you’re having to take care of me, and you’re being so nice, and I just don’t know what to do.”

“Nice” wasn’t a word often used to describe Lucifer, at least not anymore. And he could guess that it’s not a word you’d used to describe him in the past. It also hurt him to hear how you saw yourself and all your efforts. Although you came across as reckless and a little ridiculous at times, you were also genuine and a hard worker. Lucifer’s pride made it difficult for him to admit many things, but he genuinely came to appreciate the way you treated your studies, unlike some of his brothers. Even if your grades were poor, even if you struggled with the subjects, he simply admired your sincerity in everything you did, and that was enough to make him happy. He just wished that you could feel the same.

“I think you’re being generous by calling me nice. But you don’t need to do anything special, MC,” he said. Finally, your tears were starting to dry a little bit, easing his own aching heart. “We all appreciate your efforts, but we just want you to keep being yourself, more than anything. Keep reminding us that you are human, in the way only you can. Of course, if you can do that without worrying me sick, that would also be appreciated.”

The last part made you laugh, and you couldn’t help but sniffle as the crying finally ended.

“Okay.”

“And if you’re having trouble with a subject, many of us would be happy to help you. Satan does make an excellent tutor, and despite Belphie’s knack for sleeping in class, he often has a good grasp on the subjects as well.” Now that your eyes were dry, Lucifer put the damp handkerchief back in his pocket in order to use a hand to squeeze yours. His other hand brushed over your cheek, rubbing softly, soothingly.

You could only nod, more tears threatening to rip a sob from you if you opened your mouth again. But no more words were needed, getting to relax your impossible standards for once and finally feeling at peace knowing that there were others there to support you, including a certain red-eyed devil at your side.

As always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💜 You can also support me by buying a coffee ☕️!

[rynnthefangirl]

I rarely wanted to slap a character more than when Sansa Stark disrespected her Uncle Edmure in the GOT finale. It’s so incredibly emblematic of the problem with Sansa in the last two seasons of Game of Thrones: she makes objectively poor political choices, but it’s framed as smart and good because she sounds confident and badass about it, and the show protects her from facing any consequences.

In this scene, Sansa’s goal is establishing an independent North. For her to achieve that goal with the least amount of difficulty, she needs the acquiescence of whoever is chosen as King. Edmure proposes himself. He is Sansa’s own uncle, a non-greedy, non-conniving man, with a decent sense of honor and (most importantly) a history as an active supporter of Northern Independence. If Edmure becomes King, Sansa should have a pretty easy time becoming Queen in the North. This is a choice that benefits her political goals

And how does she act? She basically tells him to shut the fuck up. Now, is Edmure the best candidate? No. He is a bit of a fool and has made mistakes. But he is a decent man. He is also a long time prisoner of war who suffered immensely as a result of him covering for Sansa’s brother’s political blunder. He fought, bled, and suffered for Sansa’s family and deserves basic respect. But Sansa has no respect. She just insults him, even though not only was it unnecessary, but it is also against her own interests. She shuts downs a candidate who will give her exactly what she wants, presumably because she is so filled with smug superiority that she just can’t help but diminish people that she sees as beneath her.

She can probably get away with it to Edmure, who is family and not the type to hold a grudge like that. But when she does that to some other lord with no reason to support her? It’s going to make an enemy rather than make an ally. And that’s what Sansa’s entire approach to politics in season 7-8 is: making enemies rather than allies.

It reminds me a little bit of Aegon III shutting down and dismissing Torrhen Manderly. But the key difference is the histories acknowledge Aegon’s coldness towards his subjects as the major flaw of his character, the thing that held back his rule from being as well regarded and successful as it could have been. But with Sansa, there is no criticism. It’s framed as just her being a cool badass. It doesn’t matter that she rudely and stupidly shut down a candidate that aligns with her goals, because guess what? Tyrion happens to nominate her brother for king, who will also give her whatever she wants. Sansa had no way of knowing that Bran would be king, she certainly didn’t suggest him.

It’s understandable for Sansa’s trauma to manifest as coldness, suspicion, and unnecessarily antagonistic behavior. But we see with Aegon III that when those traits go too far, it becomes a hinderance rather than a strength. But precious Sansa is spared from such consequences. She can treat anyone as rude as she wants, and it’s fine. It’s just her being smart and shrewd and playing the game. Because playing the game at the expense of honor and compassion and fighting the true threat of the white walkers is bad… unless it’s Sansa doing it.

[quibbs126]

could you do a blackberry x adventurer fankid if you havent already pretty please :3

I can’t really say that I made this because of the aforementioned “I haven’t drawn anything in a while” post, it’s just because I was scrolling through my requests and remembered that I was in the middle of drawing her before and thought “might as well finish”

Anyways sorry, this is Blackberry Scone Cookie

So if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t entirely know what her deal is. I know that, unlike her father, she is very willing to acknowledge that she’s rich and uphold that side of her family. She’s also at least outwardly, very similar to her mother in being generally reserved in her emotions. I think one idea I had for her is that she does cool things, she just does with a disinterested face, which kind of just heightens the coolness

Okay so I’m gonna be completely honest, I am now going to just make something up as I write. That top part was in part for me to figure something out

Outwardly, she seems disinterested, but she has plenty of emotions, you just either need to pay attention to her actual words instead of tone, or you just need to get close enough to her for the mask to fall. She also has quite an interest in stories of magic and in mystical artifacts, though she prefers simply reading about them over going out to find them. Also, despite her interest in the subject, she just doesn’t have that much of an ability for magic/the occult, and has difficulty seeing ghosts (best she has is that she can sometimes see Onion), which is one of the reasons she sticks to simply reading about them rather than going out herself

While she has respect for her father in how he goes out on his own to seek out treasure and artifacts, she just doesn’t understand why he hates his rich life. Her only real guess is that he sees it as clashing with his adventurer persona, which she thinks is kind of stupid. She’s also pretty much the one running the estate while he’s gone (she’s an adult by this point) and being the one to actually deal with things such as house guests. Not to say Adventurer was an absent parent, and he’d actually take her along when she was younger on some of his expeditions, but he can disappear sometimes now

She doesn’t hate her parents, and it’s not like they were horrible parents to her, but she feels distant from her mother due to her lack of ghost abilities, and some amount of resentment for her father for being so attached to this persona of his and his disdain for his actual heritage, especially since she’s fully accepting of it and it unintentionally makes her self conscious about it

She’s not super sure of her place in the world, but for now she’s just trying to do her job as a member of a rich family

Hm, so I ended up writing more on her than I thought I would. Ah well, not a bad thing. Well, design time

So her name’s Blackberry Scone due to me headcanoning Adventurer to be some sort of shortbread or biscuit (I know they’re the same thing in other countries, but I’m unsure as to what kind of biscuit he is now). Scones are kind of like biscuits, add some blackberry and there you go, blackberry scones

A potential name was Blackberry Cobbler, but I think I prefer scone, especially since I made her more rich-seeming

Blackberry scone:

So almost everything I made of her, outside of the small sketches and some of the colors, I made a couple weeks ago while waiting at the dentist’s office, and I mostly blocked her out of my mind after that as a result. So I don’t really remember a lot of the design process

I feel like I gave her that hairstyle to make her look “cool”, but then I kind of threw that aspect of her character away. But I still like it, so she keeps it

Also, her suit was originally a bit more reddish, but I changed it today to make it more purple so it’d fit with the color of the scones. They don’t really look that red, so I changed it. But I think now the colors may not all look the best together

I feel like I may have made her colors all a bit too similar to each other, and/or not given her enough, but I don’t really know what else to change

Also when I came back today, the thickness of the lines was bothering me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been dabbling with the Syrup brush now, but I think I need to play with line width more now, since some of the smaller things like the brooch feel like they have too thick of lines

I don’t think her design is necessarily bad though, it’s mostly color wise I have issues with

And yeah, that’s Blackberry Scone, I hope you enjoy her

[isfjmel-phleg]

Colin Craven does NOT have rickets OR Munchausen by proxy: an examination of the character's medical history from the text

I saw it theorized a while back that Colin has rickets, that the text of The Secret Garden describes him as having it, and it gave me some pause. While at a glance it is not an implausible guess, I cannot find textual evidence to fully support it, so I'd like to clear up what the text actually has to say on the matter. I'd also like to address a popular theory that he has been subject to Munchausen by proxy--which is also unsupported by the text.

From what I've observed of the fandom and of adaptations' and retellings' approaches to Colin, there seems to be a lot of misunderstanding of the exact nature of his issues as described by Burnett. So I'm going to talk about

what the text indicates about Colin's medical history and symptoms

whether or not they correspond to symptoms of rickets or Munchausen by proxy

what we can infer from the evidence

Disclaimer: I do not have a background in medicine. Any conclusions about potential diagnoses are best guesses based on the resources I could locate. People who know more about this than I do, I would love to hear your perspectives on this!

According to the text, we know the following about Colin's medical history:

Born prematurely after his mother fell out of a tree while pregnant, not expected to live longer than a few days

Expected to inherit his father's spinal deformity (which developed in childhood), but there's no actual sign of this in his spine

Caregivers wouldn't let him walk and kept him lying down, although there's nothing wrong with his legs physically besides being weak from lack of use

Used to wear an iron brace to keep his back straight and "fretted so he was downright ill" after it was introduced

A "grand doctor from London" ordered the brace to be removed, said there had been too much medicine and too much letting the patient have his own way, told Colin's caregivers to put him in the humor to make up his mind to live, and advised the patient to do as he was told, not give way to temper, and stay out a great deal in the fresh air

Weakened immune system (catches cold easily)

Coughs and colds that nearly killed him two or three times

Rheumatic fever

Typhoid, which almost killed him

Once thought he had "rose cold" (i.e. a type of pollen allergy), a condition he had read about in a paper, after being taken outdoors and started exhibiting symptoms of it

The actual physical symptoms that the text confirms that he exhibits are:

Headaches

Back aches/general body aches from exhaustion

Generalized pain triggered by thinking of illness

Easily exhausted

Fevers after tantrums/crying

Difficulty sleeping (sometimes is given bromide, a sedative)

Poor appetite

Frequent stomach upsets from certain foods

So, with all that in mind, let's look at the symptoms of rickets and see if the text confirms that he exhibits any of them.

Rickets is a disease that causes children's bones to soften and weaken, usually as a result of Vitamin D deficiency. It is certainly possible that Colin could be Vitamin D deficient since he does not go outdoors, although there's no evidence that he doesn't get at least some exposure to sunlight (a major source of Vitamin D) through windows. He objects to windows being open because he's afraid of fresh air, but the extreme of boarding up the windows of his bedroom as depicted in the 1993 film is not in the book. When Mary comes to see him the day after their initial meeting, she sees the room in daylight, which indicates that the curtains are open even if the window itself is not. Another contributor to Colin's likeliness to develop rickets is his premature birth, which can result in an infant's not having received enough Vitamin D in the womb and thus being deficient.

Rickets symptoms include:

Delayed growth (No. When Colin finally stands, he is described as "strangely tall" and continues to be described as tall for his age for the rest of the book.)

Delayed motor skills (Yes but no. He does not learn to walk until age ten, but this is because he has prevented from doing so, not because he lacks the physical means to. Besides not walking, he does not show signs of being unable to move or use other muscles.)

Pain in the spine, pelvis and legs (Probably not. Colin speaks of "pains everywhere" when he thinks about illness, but otherwise, specific pain is not indicated.)

Muscle weakness (Yes. But this is attributed to lack of use.)

Bowed legs or knock knees (No. Very much no. Colin is so indignant at the suggestion of it that he stands up for the first time in his life to prove that his legs are not crooked.)

Thickened wrists and ankles (Not indicated.)

Breastbone projection (No. It is confirmed in the text that Colin does not exhibit any skeletal deformities; he's just initially very fearful of developing them.)

Based on this criteria, I would conclude that Colin does not show any signs of rickets. His condition does improve with exposure to sunlight and consumption of nutritious food and drink, including milk, which would be beneficial to someone recovering from rickets, but this isn't necessarily an indication that rickets was what ailed him--these are things that are good for humans in general.

Next, let's look at the criteria for Munchausen by proxy, which is properly called factitious disorder imposed on another. This disorder occurs when someone falsely claims that someone else who is in their care is in need of medical care. The diagnosis is given to the perpetrator, not the victim of this form of abuse.

The DSM-5's criteria for factititious disorder imposed on another are as follows:

Falsifying physical or psychological signs or symptoms, or creating an injury or condition in order to deceive someone. (No. Colin's father, doctor, and caregivers all sincerely believe that Colin is genuinely ill, and he has indeed had some legitimate health problems. No one is falsifying anything about his physical condition; they just don't understand how to help him. Preventing him from walking is a deeply misguided but genuine attempt to prevent him developing spinal deformity, not a means of making him appear ill when he is not.)

One person presents someone else (victim) to others as ill, impaired or injured. (No. This is not what is happening.)

The deceptive behavior happens without obvious external rewards. (No. No deceptive behavior is occurring.)

The behavior isn’t caused by another mental health condition. (No. See above.)

Colin's caregivers are "ignorant and tired of him" and have failed him in many ways, but no one is actively lying to him or anyone else about his being ill when he is not. He is the victim of overanxiety about his health after a difficult start in life, not deception.

(If anyone's wondering, the Munchausen by proxy theory is often applied to Colin as portrayed in the 1993 film, but it doesn't hold up there either. The Medlock of the film is overprotective of Colin, but she sincerely believes that he is ill and that she is doing the best thing for him by treating him. The details play out differently from in the book, but it's still a case of ignorance rather than deception.)

So if Colin doesn't have rickets and isn't the victim of factitious disorder imposed on another, what exactly is the nature of his condition, based on what the text tells us?

First of all, there are legitimate reasons for there to have been concerns about Colin's health at the time of his birth. He was born prematurely. We don't know how far into her pregnancy his mother was when she gave birth, but it must have been just enough for him to be able to make it with the state of medical care circa 1901. Even with current medical advances, there are still a lot of risks associated with being premature, including, in the short term, problems with breathing, regulating temperature, eating, etc., and in the long term, a greater likelihood of problems such as asthma, cerebral palsy, vision and hearing problems, learning disabilities, etc. Additionally, there's the risk of damage to him from the fall.

Colin as an infant is apparently "such a weak wretched thing that every one had been sure it would die in a few days." He surprises everyone by surviving, but he is still expected to develop deformities and die young. His father believes this, and so do his caregivers. Martha tells Mary that "he began all wrong. Mother said that there was enough trouble and raging in th' house to set any child wrong." Babies do indeed pick up on the emotional atmosphere that they're surrounded by, which can't have helped. This intense anxiety regarding his health is passed on to Colin, defines his upbringing, and will become a deeply-rooted part of how he understands himself.

A major factor of this anxiety is the fear of developing the same spinal deformity as his father. This is something that Archibald Craven predicts in his extreme grief immediately after his wife's death. In that context, it's more or less the grief talking rather than an informed medical opinion, but Colin's caregivers' concern for Colin's back might not be completely out of nowhere, even if it is overblown.

Archibald is frequently said to be a "hunchback," but whenever an actual physical description of him is given, his appearance does not seem to indicate kyphosis, the condition most often associated with that outdated term. When Mary meets him, she observes that he is "not so much a hunchback as a man with high, rather crooked shoulders." People he encounters during his travels perceive him as "a tall man with a drawn face and crooked shoulders." We also know that his condition is not congenital but developed when he was a child, apparently gradually. Many adaptations depict him as using a cane; the text neither confirms nor denies this, but he is apparently mobile enough to travel extensively, walk on the moor at least as far as the vicinity of the Sowerbys' cottage (five miles from the manor), and do a lot of apparently solo hiking in the mountains of Europe.

I wonder if Archibald's condition might not be kyphosis but rather idiopathic scoliosis. This would account for his crooked shoulders and the onset of his condition in preadolescence. And it just so happens that idiopathic scoliosis can be hereditary, which would make sense in light of everyone's fears about Colin's developing it. So the concern itself may not be unwarranted, but the extremity to which it ends up being taken is.

Colin's ultimate problem is not that he has inherited his father's condition but that he seems to have developed what is now called illness anxiety disorder (formerly hypochondria--Burnett even specifically refers him as a "hypochondriac").

The DSM-5 criteria for illness anxiety disorder are:

The patient is preoccupied with having or acquiring a serious illness. (Yes.)

The patient has no or minimal somatic symptoms. (Yes, mostly. He is primarily preoccupied with developing a deformity despite no physical evidence. He exhibits other symptoms like headaches and fevers, but these might have other roots, which I'll get to later.)

The patient is highly anxious about health and easily alarmed about personal health issues. (Yes.)

The patient repeatedly checks health status or maladaptively avoids doctor appointments and hospitals. (Yes. He actively refuses potentially helpful treatments and distrusts his doctor.)

The patient has been preoccupied with illness for ≥ 6 months, although the specific illness feared may change during that time period. (Yes. He appears to have had these fears his entire life.)

Symptoms are not better accounted for by depression or another psychiatric disorder. (It is possible that he also has depression, more on that later, but the above symptoms don't seem to be connected to that. It is also possible that he has somatic symptom disorder, which is similar but involves the presence of and fixation on existent physical symptoms.)

Either illness anxiety disorder or somatic symptom disorder would account for Colin's issues, which revolve around an extreme fear of developing a spinal deformity which he believes will result in his death. This is a learned anxiety but one that he will make fully his own by applying it in ways that his caregivers do not anticipate. His nurse is unaware that he thinks he's developing a spinal deformity. No one is preventing him from going outdoors; whenever he is encouraged to get fresh air, he's the one refusing to cooperate because he believes it will kill him. He starts exhibiting symptoms of "rose cold" when taken outdoors not because he actually has an allergy (there's no sign of it when he goes out with Mary and Dickon later) but because of his extreme anxiety. His reaction to having to wear a brace is "frett[ing] so he was downright ill," because it's a tangible symbol of all his worst fears.

But he's had actual illnesses too, so where do those come from?

His easily catching cold is probably because he's been isolated indoors and thus hasn't had opportunity to build up his immune system. Rheumatic fever results from improperly treated strep throat or scarlet fever--easier to develop in the days before antibiotics; it also carries a possibility of heart damage that can turn up later in life. It's probable that he could have picked up strep from exposure to someone in the household who had it, but it's more surprising that he manages to get typhoid, which is caused by contaminated food or water. There's no indication that typhoid is prominent in the Misselthwaite area, so it's possible that he picked it up during one of the times he's been taken to the seaside. A life-threatening illness immediately after such a trip would further reinforce his belief that the outdoors is deadly.

And what about his recurrent physical symptoms?

Well, the headaches, general aches, exhaustion, sleeping problems, poor appetite, and stomach problems sound a lot like physical symptoms associated with depression or anxiety. The fevers he gets after tantrums might be psychogenic fevers, caused by stress.

Given this evidence, my best guess is that Colin has either illness anxiety disorder or somatic symptom disorder. He might also have some degree of depression, which could account for his feelings of worthlessness and lack of interest in living.