#I Really Tried to Keep Him in Character

[aheckinmess]

Weak Spot (Dad Sukuna)

(Part 1 of Cursed, Not Cute.)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Dad Sukuna, OC Child, Mildly Out of Character?, I Mean I Tried, I Really Tried to Keep Him in Character, Given the Circumstances, But Just in Case, Sukuna's Daughter, And Yes She Has His Sass

Word Count: 1,021 words

Summary: After Ryomen Sukuna has complete control of Japan as the King of Curses, he has a child that he's determined to train into a vessel of villainy, just like him. Things don't exactly go according to plan.

Chapter 1: Weak Spot

Sukuna should have seen it coming the second the damned woman told him she was with child. A night of passion and lust had resulted in a child of his own. One that he knew would be hellbent on destruction, just like him.

“I will raise you to be stronger even than me.” Flames reflected in his red eyes as he glared over the crumbled city below. He rocked her in his arms to the cadence of screaming victims below. “You cannot be weak if you’re going to inherit my legacy.”

A little girl with pink and brown hair looked up at him, babbling and cooing with a radiant smile. A smile reflecting paternal affection, dependence, and unyielding trust.

These were emotions he’d always thought he’d easily dismiss when the child was born. But truth be told? She wrapped him around her finger a little more with every passing day.

“We will rule this world together, you and I.” He promised.

The moment he felt such buzzing warmth for her, he should have killed her. Hell, he should have killed Asuka as soon as she’d said she was pregnant. Killed two birds with one stone.

But now, looking into his daughter’s eyes, his resolve crumbled. Her dark, pleading eyes squeezed a part of his soul that should have been dead long ago. He grit his teeth, raising his hand again to slice off her head. She’s just another obstacle in my reign of terror and misery! She has to go!

So what stopped him?

Those eyes. Those wide, loving eyes. Eyes that still stared at him with trust and adoration even as he held her life in the balance. A respect for her father that stood unshakeable even in the face of death.

“Are you going to kill me, Father?” Her lip quivered, though he’d long since taught her to be brave and keep her head high during her final moments.

Sukuna, for once, found himself speechless. With a roar, he threw his hands down before pacing across the balcony. Four sets of knuckles gripped the railing until they turned white, flattening metal with his great strength. This damn child. This. Damn. Child!

“I apologize, Father.” Her soft voice floated over to him. “I never intended for my weakness to cause you dishonor.”

“Silence.” Sukuna’s throat tightened in his fury.

The sound of crackling flames drowned out the silence between them as she listened obediently. Perhaps that’s why I’m so remiss to end her life. She's strong. Strong and obedient. Sukuna’s eyes met the gaze of a frantic woman clutching her child to her chest on the street as a curse cornered both of them. He flicked his wrist and the woman and her child dropped in a bloody mass without a second thought.

“I raised you to carry on my legacy,” He growled, slamming his fist down against the damaged metal and turning to her. For once, his brows wrinkled with pain, something he hadn’t felt in years. “Yet you stand before me, unwilling to follow the path of destruction I’ve set. Do you think I would just support your path of good fortune to others?!”

Her second set of hands always gave her away. While the bottom pair stayed by her side, she hid the top pair behind her back, fidgeting as her eyes glistened.

“No, sir.” She whispered.

“Do you expect me to accept such weakness from my own flesh and blood?!”

“No, sir.”

“Then what do you expect, Besu?!” He snapped, digging his nails into her cheeks as his frustration mounted.

“I don’t know.” She admitted.

Blood marred the sides of her face as he tried one more time to use his great strength to bring her a swift end. But he could only watch the blood drip from her chin before he pulled his hand back.

“Well, I don’t know either!” He huffed, raking two hands through his hair as the other two rested on his hips. With a heavy sigh, he responded as softly as the Curse King had ever dared. “I know what I should do.”

She didn’t say anything, and neither of them needed to. Sukuna knew she was a brilliant child. She was his offspring, after all. So she knew he should kill her, as opposed to giving her a gentle ending. They both knew he lacked gentleness with everyone.

Everyone but her. Why her?! I killed Asuka as soon as Besu no longer needed her milk. So why? Why, why, why?!

“I love you.”

Those words. Those damned words! Only she had ever uttered them. He’d never found a need for them from anyone else.

He whipped his hand around and bruised her cheek with the flat of his palm. She barely flinched and kept her back straight.

She knew not to say such things. She knew. Words had power. Those three little words already drove him to his knees as he rubbed a thumb over the growing welt, healing it in seconds.

“Love is weak.” He hissed, looking directly into her eyes. “I’ve told you that time and time again, Besu. You know that love is weak and…and…” He paused, waiting for the anger to pummel relentlessly into her before he broke. “And…and dammit, I love you too!” He clutched her against his chest. “I love you and I hate it!”

For those few moments he could only hold her and wish she were a newborn again, reveling in the fallen world with him. He wished she were not this sweet and precious 7-year-old holding his heart in the palm of her hands as she told him she didn’t want to be evil. He wished he did not feel this overwhelming urge to protect her until his dying breath. He wished he did not enjoy the relief that flooded him knowing she still breathed against his chest, trusting him with every inhale and exhale.

No. He wished he did not have a daughter at all. Because for the first time in history, Ryomen Sukuna had a weak spot.

And he knew it wouldn’t take long for the world to notice.

Continue Reading -> Ch. 2

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Don't Wormy About Me.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Marvel Meow (2021), Nao Fuji | Professor X and Magneto

Bonus:

[weaverofink]

oh shit metal stole tails' speak & spell

[twolovelyberries]

don’t you want me baby?

[spotaus]

Idea-dumping under the cut ig as a distraction!

(Actually this got like... long, so here's some bonus design visuals!)

So, this is mostly me thinking out-loud about those alt/personal versions of Nightmare's gang.

First establishment: in this version, Nightmare follows the *was* evil but does so poorly with several versions of the group that he decides he's probably the problem and goes searching for answers before finally settling on a few and keeping them alive. (Yes, Nightmare keeps the original 3 sets dust. Most of it was scattered, but the bits he kept all went into an hourglass. He keeps it on a shelf high in his office so no one can turn it over again.)

In this same vein, Dream and Nightmare are battling because Dream believes Nightmare is no longer his younger self and an entirely separate entity. (Is this true? Probably this time? We'll see.) So, Dream has Ink usually on-hand, and has lost a few comrades over the years, Blue being the only one who'd survived to this point. (I think he might've managed to recruit a Color at some point, Night killed both the Color and Killer. Maybe he also recruited a horror of his own, who was executed by the 2nd Dust. Point is, Blue has been around to see these monsters be cycled out and behave different and all die expendable on Night's side, and has lost friends on Dream's side.) Dream nowadays tries to stick to only himself, Ink, and Blue.

So, establishing that, there's the trouble of Nightmare and his mortals.

Nightmare lives in an older Victorian mansion rather than a castle, his domain is an abandoned au set in that time period, where him and his crew have free-reign. (Basically think the streets of London but entirely unoccupied and almost constantly night-time or rainy/dreary/foggy.)

Initially, he used this landscape to torment those he brought to his domain, whether that be chasing a new killer/horror/dust until they were exhausted or bringing au inhabitants back for his men to hunt down and torment for him. It was useful, a lot of left-over objects and items from inhabitants long since dead, and a lot of interesting hiding places. The edges of the au are just a blackness. Eventually there is an invisible wall, and if you reach that, You're easy pickings for Nightmare. he knows.

I think that the way Nightmare finally decides on his henchmen needing better treatment is when the 3rd Horror, the very last surviving one, *let* Dream get a lethal hit in on him. There was no chance for Dream or Nightmare to act, and they'd both retreated in the aftermath. Normally this wouldn't have bothered Nightmare, but that Horror had been his most obedient and resourceful one yet, and he'd actually grown to like his presence. So. The silence in the castle while he recovered from injuries and prepared for the next batch? It was particularly striking for him. It felt *icky* to not have another person there, and it felt icky to have lost that Horror in the way that he had. Not even an honorable death. He decided he needed to figure out how to keep a monster similar, if not *better than* how he'd kept horror.

After about a month of debating, he finally settled on visiting a Ccino. And no, this isn't just because Ccino's been growing on me lately. He knew one of the Killer's he had, the 2nd, enjoyed sneaking off to the fluffytale aus and he figured there must have been a reason. So. Nightmare takes advantage of his shape-shifting and what little sense he has, and finds himself in an inaccurate replication of a passive Nightmare. He goes to a Ccino, though it might as well be one involved in the multiverse, since Night is now shattering that view. He makes several trips, regularly over the course of a few months. Biding his time. The balance isn't tipping yet. Until he can become at least slightly familiar enough with this Ccino to ask the burning question. How does one care for another living being?

Ccino, at this point, is used to his weird British customer and his odd way of asking questions. Asks if he means a pet, like a cat. Nightmare clarifies that, no, he means monsters. And Ccino has to try and figure out what he means by that. Is he expecting? Is he... adopting? He asks the second one, and Nightmare nods. Ccino breathes a sigh of relief, and realizes it must be because Nightmare is a boss monster. They live much different lives from a normal monster, require less to eat, less sleep, rely on their magic a lot more heavily. He suggests Nightmare come by again the next day and by then he might have some advice.

And while Ccino mostly gives him information on how to raise kids, from babies to teens, Nightmare takes in the information. He's still convinced he's learning all this because he wants to make perfect soldiers. Monsters who will obey him through whatever means that last Horror had. So he takes in all the information he can. He focuses a lot on the suggestions for teenagers. Even though the ones he had before were certainly adults, they often had outbursts and these solutions seemed reasonable. And Ccino was kind enough to stay after closing to talk with him on multiple occasions. It became a little club, between the two of them, almost.

And then Nightmare finally went out to find new replacements. 4th time's the charm.

The first one he collected this time was a Killer. The most volatile usually, but also the easiest to coerce into cooperating with his goals. Normally, his first act would be to let the Killer run loose in the streets and hunt him down. A show of dominance and control. This time, he decided he'd show patience. He stole away the Killer like he normally would, and left him out on a street, but with a note in his pocket. Detailing exactly what Nightmare was offering and why, along with the address of the mansion incase he wanted to discuss more.

It only took two days before Killer arrived at Nightmare's doorstep. He was cautious, but Nightmare was cordial. Not subtle, no, he acknowledged that he was actively kidnapping him. That if he made a misstep Nightmare would kill him. That he was replaceable. But, he also explained exactly what he was looking for from Killer, and *offered* work to him. Killer wandered away for a few more days, before coming back and accepting.

The trial runs with Killer were rough the first few months. Nightmare visited Ccino less, and found himself trying very hard to balance authority, Killer's loyalty, and the fragile trust growing between them. Sometimes he'd catch Killer doing something and he'd physically refrain from lashing out and punishing. Other times, though strangely only when Killer was making choices poor for his own health, Nightmare lashed out. Corrective behavior was not kind, but it was for the best in Nightmare's mind.

One thing he had a lot of trouble with was letting Killer explore the domain. He used to restrict all his henchmen inside unless they were hunting or on missions. Killer had an insatiable urge to explore, and several times Nightmare saw it as escape attempts. Dragging Killer back inside with threats of retaliation. Only once he let Killer escape and *watch* what he did, he realized he was literally just looking around, picking up trinkets, once he stole a shirt and brought it back with him. Then he returned, willingly, to the mansion. It was no trick, no escape, just simple curiosity. Nightmare took a page out of the book of the advice from Ccino and actually complimented Killer's shirt when he finally wore it one day. Killer's hackles were raised about it, obviously afraid of punishment, but Nightmare waved it off. As long as he wasn't bringing harm to himself or running away, Nightmare didn't mind.

It was only after Killer proved himself capable of hunting down captives in the city maze that Nightmare went out to find another. The 4th Dust.

Dust was a bit more of a handful than usual. Maybe it was because Nightmare wasn't stern enough. Or maybe it was because this Killer was a lot more friendly than his others had been. This Dust immediately attacked. Instead of aiming at Nightmare, it was aimed at Killer. Normally, it the past, he would've let Killer get hurt. Learn a lesson. This time he tugged his Killer out of the line of fire and forced Dust to listen to him. Held him in place.

Dust did not wander into the city like Night had let Killer do. He was confined to the mansion, mainly because Nightmare knew the previous Dusts had a tendency to curl up and let themselves rot if given the chance. So, Nightmare made sure he was fed, and would dunk him in the pond if he refused to bathe, and was always on the watch for hostile attacks, all while Killer was usually playing antagonist.

Nightmare's actually not sure what it was, but one day Dust simply... stopped disobeying his orders. He was up for breakfast, and didn't make Nightmare drag him out to see Killer chase down a victim. Nightmare did his best to be genuine when he told Dust he was pleased to see him up and about.

(Killer had been part of the change in attitude. He would sit outside Dust's door when Night was out and tell him how good of a gig it was. Nightmare wasn't perfect, but the place was cool and it was better than an empty underground. Killer was right, it was better than an empty underground. He gave it a shot and found he didn't feel awful.)

Dust still had his days ofc. Days where he'd get overwhelmed during a mission and overwhelm his magic. Days where he'd be too exhausted or depressed to get out of bed. Days where he hated being there and wanted to go back to his old au. But, on those days Nightmare would check in on him verbally, and visit with meals, or a small gift, or answer a question. Dust liked it when Nightmare answered his questions. And Nightmare, sometimes, would twitch his tendrils and throw something around when Dust was out of commission... but never infront of him. In front of Killer? Yes. Infront of Dust? No. That was not for Dust to worry about.

Sometime after Dust warmed up to him, he resolved to let them visit Ccino. Ccino had been asking about how things were going, and Nightmare wasn't sure how to express the extent of his frustrations a lot of the time. Ccino had suggested a visit might help if they were antsy. Nightmare had agreed.

After a particularly hard day, Nightmare having run into Dream, Blue, and Ink while on a supply run with the two he had, he decided they deserved a break. He prefaced that they were not to torment. Not to harm. Not to do any damages or there would be consequences. When both had agreed, thinly veiled curiosity, Nightmare took them to the au. Just around closing time. He adopted his shapeshifted passive form and brought the two of them along.

Ccino has been... visibly shocked. These were obviously two full-grown, or at least in they 20s-30s, monsters. They didn't look like they were in the best states either. But he'd held himself strong as Nightmare guided them to sit at his and Ccino's usual rounded table, the two extra chairs now being used up. Nightmare handed them the menu, and it seemed he got hesitant orders from both of them before approaching Ccino at the counter. He ordered. Ccino got to work.

When the drinks were brought out, Ccino was almost pleasantly relieved to find that the two additional monsters had cats swarming them. Nightmare introduced them, and Ccino saw how Killer had one cat cradled in each arm, both purring up a storm. Dust had one in his lap, asleep, with one of his hoodie-strings trapped by the cat's jaws. Night didn't bother with a made-up story. Just vaguely explained that they had come from toxic and unhealthy environments and were staying with him for the time being. Like... roommates. Ccino just kinda has to accept that the other two don't seem to be in any immediate distress and minds his own business.

I think it'd be at least a year or two, Nightmare ensuring he's made Killer and Dust comfortable and loyal. Making sure he knows just how to keep them alive properly, and establishing silently to his enemies (the stars) that he's done using expendable pawns. That's when he finally collects the 4th Horror.

It was a hard choice for him. Something about seeing another Horror's face, especially after he'd finally been making an effort to provide better support and care to this Killer and Dust? He figured it out. His last Horror was only so obedient and relaxed because if he was, Nightmare went softer on the others. When the others were both gone, he lost hope. Nightmare, some part of him, was scared he'd do it all over again. Somehow lose Killer and Dust and be left with just Horror. That was why he focused so heavily on Killer and Dust's wellbeing this time. So this Horror wouldn't have to worry. Would turn out the same.

And the plan worked out. Nightmare brought himself to go find a Horror. One from a collapsing timeline, right in the cross heirs of Error's attacks. He was basically a scrap of code, and Nightmare tugged him to safety at the last second. This Horror was confused, but grateful, until he noticed Killer and Dust. Horror was entirely avoidant of the two for the longest time, willing to do as Nightmare said once he heard him out, saw what was happening, but he did NOT like Dust or Killer. He was cagey, kept to himself, only showing weakness if he was injured in battle or had fallen ill. Night tried to watch out for him, but that wedge between the three of them was troublesome. Night hoped it'd work itself out. It never quite did.

Night doesn't have a favorite. He'll refer to Killer for important tasks, he's been there the longest. He'll let Dust fall asleep on the couch near to him and curl tendrils around him while he haps. He'll find recipe books and new supplies from aus for Horror to try out. He'd willingly get in the way of any attack to improve their chances of survival. Having said this, he pays an extra attention to Horror. Everyone notices it, Horror finds it unsettling sometimes but can mostly ignore it. It isn't until a fight with Dream where Horror chases Ink off to the side and Ink reveals to him the fate of the last Horror that any of them know *why*. Horror takes time to process it, before bringing it up to Nightmare very very nervously.

Nightmare, pained, admits his previous faults. He's not proud of his methodologies back then. He doesn't admit how much he cares about this 4th round of them. He doesn't need to.

Fun bonus! There's a year where Cross comes into the picture. At first he seeks out Nightmare for his help. Like in Underverse, he wants to rebuilt his au. But Nightmare denies him. It wouldn't benefit him or the others, it wouldn't benefit the balance, find someone else. But Cross can't. When he tries to work alone, Cross finds that Dream and the stars intercept him. They assume he'd working for Nightmare, which he denies, and they try to talk with him. Ask what he's doing. Ink and Dream can't allow Cross to keep going, even if he's trying to make himself a new home. They ask if he wants to join them. Defend against evil in the multiverse. And as it is, he has to agree.

So Cross teams up with the stars for a while. But as he's working with them, things don't seem to be lining up. Dream claims Nightmare tortures his followers, trades them out like cheap toys. But... Cross never sees these ones change. And if one gets too injured, Nightmare calls a retreat. The same ones come back each time. Even in the midst of battle Nightmare seemed to keep tabs on all of his players.

Once, Cross isolated Dust from the rest of the fighting. He was wounded and clearly getting more exhausted by the second. When Cross pinned him finally, he asked if he wanted to stop fighting. To go somewhere safe. Away from Nightmare. Dust had always seemed like the most actively dis-engaged fighter of the three. Cross thought he could convince him. But Dust just stares at him and says "Nah." Before getting a second wind and summoning an attack again. Cross tried to knock him out, take him by force, but the hit just dazed him rather than knocking him out, and by then Nightmare had figured out where they were. Seeing, or sensing, Dust's state, he signals for retreat instantly. Cross is forced to move or get skewered by darkness, and he's shocked by how gently Nightmare scoops up the dazed Dust, and how willingly Dust let's it happen. Horror and Killer are right on Nightmare's tail and hop through the portal first. Night through very last.

Cross had never seen Nightmare pick up his men so carefully before. Usually they'd walk through on their own, or he'd lift with tendrils. This time he carried Dust in his own arms. That was... weird.

Cross, eventually, comes to terms with not rebuilding his AU, just being barred from it for so long. But it takes *ages* before he goes to Nightmare. For one reason or another, Cross realizes that the state of his friendship with Dream is unhealthy. I mean, Dream cares for him, but it feels overbearing. And when he asked to visit the omega timeline once, Dream advised against it. Basically placed him on house-arrest unless everyone was going out to fight. He had to stay inside Dream's au, since he was an outcode. A fragile one. (Dream was afraid of losing Cross, like he'd lost many others.)

During a fight, Cross decides he's going to try something new. He's going to get as close as physically possible to the portal at the end of the fight, and lunge inside at the last second. No weapons, no hostility, nothing. That Domain of Nightmare's is untraceable. He needs in there.

And when he enacts the plan? Nightmare actually allows it. On his end, acting like he didn't notice a thing until he steps through.

Ofc, Cross immediately got tackled and pinned by Killer, but Cross doesn't fight back. Night demands he explain himself, abd Cross takes one more hesitant look at the surrounding enemies before admitting. Dream's kept him on a short leash since he joined. No exploring, no harsh training, no visiting friends, nothing. He needed to get somewhere Dream couldn't follow him. Even though it was a suicide mission, Night's domain was the safest choice.

And Nightmare was frankly baffled. Someone had willingly chose his domain over his brother's? It was a bit of an honor. But I'm the sane breath, he couldn't just let Cross leave. If he did, then that wouldn't be just to his three loyal wards.

So, Nightmare gave him an ultimatum. Either he stayed and acted as a teammate, eventually earning privileges just like the others had, or they could kill him. No one can just freely enter the au and expect Sanctuary. Cross knew as much, and as much as it seemed to pain him, he agreed he'd work for Nightmare.

And for Cross? Nightmare decided to reach back into the old days. He told Cross he had ten minutes to go somewhere in the city. Evade for as long as he could. Told him to get running. Only when Cross had confusedly left the mansion did Nightmare tell the group that whoever could scare Cross the most, without intentionally wounding him, would get to choose the next big leisure item he brought back from supply-running.

Boy did the guys torment him! Nightmare kept an eye on it, and there was some excellent restraint from all three of them. It went on for several hours, and Nightmare only cut it short because he'd noticed Cross had developed a limp. Some sort of twisted ankle maybe? (For the record, Dust managed to win. He suggested a projector for movies and stuff.) Back at the castle they all sat at the table, including Cross (though he was wary) and ate. Then they had leisure time. Then curfew. The next morning, when Cross was still limping, he postponed further 'training' to check how truly hurt Cross was.

Basically, Cross figures out Nightmare only does fucked-up stuff because it's part of his nature. He needs to to survive. Outside of that? He's learned to be amicable and borderline kind to those he cares about. Cross is there to witness Killer getting his first cat, he's there to witness the three of them get into intense debates about high-level science and scribble all over a whiteboard, he's there to witness a lot of good moments. Including Nightmare bringing a Ccino for a visit to the house.

This Ccino visit is prompted by him noticing the boys haven't been by with Night lately. Nightmare assures him that they're fine, but also suggests Ccino could come by for a visit? And Ccino, friendly and optimistic Ccino, agrees. Nightmare, upon portalling them, walks a bit with Ccino. Explaining the nature of the realm and why he lives there. Ccino listens and accepts it, even if he is a little spooked. Nightmare then guides him to the mansion and shows him around. The guys are all screwing around in the kitchen, trying to make cookies with Horror. The three are excited to see Ccino and greet him. Cross, who was sitting in the corner trying nit to make things worse with the batter, was confused to find a normal Ccino visiting the domain. A part of him was angry, another was hurt, but he kept quiet. The Ccino was nice and greeted the others, then introduced himself to Cross. Cross did the same.

Ccino, at this point, officially became knowledgeable of the multiverse and unintentionally/intentionally aligned himself with Nightmare. Night seemed to be doing very well despite all the worries he'd had, and also, Ccino considers Night to be a friend. They discuss books together, play newspaper games, etc etc.

After Ccino leaves he starts getting more multiversal visitors, he can always tell, but he has his favorites.

...

Hard cut, day 2 of adding to this ramble post and now I have drawn designs with extra lore!!

Nightmare and Dream's magic from the apple incident has condensed around their skulls like halos! They can't be touched nir damaged by attacks, but they do glow when either is feeding/exerting their magic.

Nightmare did his best to keep the 4th round of the mtt in top shape, but it wouldn't last forever. Dust was the first one to get a major injury, though it wasn't very prominent visually. Shortly after they got Horror, Dust was slashed in the socket by one of Ink's corrosive paints. He fought through the pain, but upon getting back to the base, Nightmare discovered Dust's state. Nightmare's first instinct was to clean the wound like he'd been taught by Ccino, then to ask if Dust could still use the magic in that eye. As it stands, he still can't reconnect to the mana there. Night fought against every instinct telling him that Dust was broken, and to get a new one, and just told him to go rest and recover. Dust has a scar on his bone and his eyelight is missing in that socket. But he's alive, which is a testament to Nightmare's improvement.

Killer lost his leg shortly after they took in Cross. It was a combative fight where Dream wouldn't let up, hunting them down to any au they moved to, not allowing them to make the supply run they'd been on (it was after a period of quiet after Cross ran and was taken in by Night. Dream + the others believe Nightmare killed him.). It was Blue who almost got a solid hit in on Dust, but Killer got in the way to block. Only, he wasn't sturdy enough and his leg-bone practically shattered when he tried to stop Blue's swing. Horror scooped Killer up, and in the wave of negativity and Dust's cursing that followed, Nightmare signaled a retreat.

Under normal circumstances, such a substantial, mobility-altering, injury would prompt Nightmare to just put a follower out of their misery and claim a new one. But. Not anymore. He had to act fast because Killer was fading in consciousness abd Nightmare was never one for major wounds like limb loss. Luckily, Horror was familiar, and him and Night managed to stop Killer's limb from dusting any further up his body. (Dust was furious with Killer for taking that hit. Horror was shocked. Nightmare regretted not taking up the rear in the first place. Cross was mortified to see Killer in such a state and was 1000% sure Night was going to off him.)

Recovery for Killer was... rocky. About 50/50 good/bad days, but he pulled through and learned to use a prosthetic. In the meantime, Cross offered to cover for Killer on runs if he was needed, a good step for Cross and for Nightmare. But, instead, Nightmare asked Cross to focus on making sure Killer didn't hurt himself while the others were out on runs. He couldn't risk revealing Cross' being alive just yet. This leads to plenty of Killer Cross bonding time, and Killer gets to tell all sorts of stories about how much the Boss has been improving. Killer knows he was the pet project, the test dummy to this 'new him'. Nightmare hasn't laid much of a finger on Horror, abd only let them spook Cross, while Killer was tossed around like a ragdoll. And now look! Night was going through the trouble of replacing his limb and nursing him back to health! For Killer it's like watching someone take their first steps. Cross realizes then that Nightmare hasn't always been like this. He used to be worse. He's taking steps on his own to improve. And for what? The sakes of Killer, Dust, and Horror?

Meanwhile, Dream has Blue and Ink, both of whom he extends his positive magic to. Even when they're in their own domains, they can spread his aura to those they interact with and call upon his power.

Unlike those two, he's also allied with Outer and Lust! Those two are from the omega timeline, and they work to help anyone fleeing from destroyed, corrupted, or otherwise uninhabitable aus. They had their own little thing going before Dream entered the picture, but when he approached them about seeing anyone from a destroyed au, they kept in contact. Now they act as a little home-base, keeping track of the battles and the conflicts and making sure the main three fighters don't work themselves into the ground. And! Because the main 3 are always out and about? If you need help with smaller tasks, Lust and Outer are on it. Lust finds it a nice distraction from his past and anxieties, and Outer does it as repayment to Dream (who saved his life from the 3rd Killer once).

Uhhh, one last note I think? Horror is the favorite child from an outsider + inside pov. Night doesn't think that way, but he is actively more careful with Horror than the others. He feels like he failed the last one (he failed all of them but y'know) and he can fix it with this one. This one doesn't understand the treatment and often resents it, but decides not to say anything lest he offset whatever kindness Nightmare is doing for the others. The others don't mind that Horror is effectively the favorite. They know Nightmare was fucked up long before they arrived, and it was just one of his many quirks.

[celtrist]

Would love for them to bring up languages at some point.

Angel: "shit they're speaking French. Smiles! Translate!"

Alastor: "I'm not sure which is more insulting; assuming I can fluently speak and understand French because I'm Creole, or that you think French and French-Creole are the same thing."

[xhollowfaerie]

Anticipación

a/n: ok this is by far the craziest one i've written sdufhdsfisdjfsf oh my god im so nervous about postin gthis LMAO please lmk if this was any decent bc i did my best, i was really running out of synonyms for moan/whine/cry etc tags/warnings: demi4demi inexperienced Rookanis, (very slight) soft dom Lucanis, submissive fem Rook, plus sized Rook, praising kink, Lucanis discovers edging, also Lucanis discovering some things abt himself......, squirting + a surprise at the end hehehe

Kore’s moans filled the dining hall, echoing back around Lucanis, only driving him further. Their cold coffees laid long-forgotten by their side, his fingers slowly, audibly sliding in and out of her as she held onto the front of his shirt, foreheads glued together. She was sitting on the table, legs spread apart as he dipped his fingers into her, his other arm steadily holding her waist as she trembled in his grip. He’d always wanted to ravish her in that pink chemise, driving him insane from the very first time he’d seen it on her figure. His eyes flooded with desire, watching her lashes flutter helplessly.

She was panting, inadvertently dragging her nails down the back of his neck, causing a shiver to run all the way through him. His brown eyes were trained on hers, observant, taking in every microexpression on her beautiful, round face, memorizing every freckle. The way the dim light of the fireplace hit her glossy lips imprinted itself into his mind, swallowing back the thought of seeing them wrap around him. He took in a breath to gather his courage before his fingers hit deeper inside her, feeling her suddenly clamp down around them. 

“Lucanis!” Rook whined, arching her back. Fuck, she was so close-

He widened his eyes and gingerly pulled his fingers out, watching her carefully. “Lo siento, mi amor… I did not mean to hurt you.” Rook looked at him through half-parted eyelids, feverishly breathing against him, voice meek. “N-No… y-you, didn’t, I almost…”

Oh.

He flushed, embarrassed by his own lack of expertise. “I-I, I thought-”

She painfully clenched around the emptiness inside her, running her hands over his neck. Kore felt the overwhelming wetness between her legs drip down her thighs. Her pink nails held onto the lapels of his shirt, mouthing her words against his lips.

“Please.”

He closed the space between their mouths, lovingly kissing her as he slid his middle and index finger back inside - after she assured him many times that no, two were not too much, even though it had taken a bit of trial and error to figure out the best ones for the job - and she moaned into their kiss, desperately grabbing his face and bucking her hips into his hand as she started shaking.

“Lucanis, Lucanis-!”

His ears picked up a noise outside, making his heart stop dead inside his chest. He moved the hand from her waist lower, pulling her closer to the edge of the table by her ass in an attempt to cover how exposed it was, horrified that Davrin or whoever else was just about to walk in - also halting his fingers inside her.

Kore mewled in protest, collapsing her head against his shoulder as she breathed heavily.

“P-Please, L-Lucanis… you’re killing me…”

He mentally cursed himself, but something caught his attention; they had only made love a couple of times before, and while she always cried for him so sweetly - the way she said his name made it very hard to focus - he’d never seen her quite this worked up.

Almost as if…

Humming, he moved his lips to the particular spot on her neck that made her squeal, feeling her thighs tremble as he moved inside her again, gently curling his digits and quickening his pace - she shrieked and grasped a handful of his hair, her moans growing louder and louder.

“L-LUCA-NIS-”

He stopped again, smiling against her neck as she trembled from head to toe, breath hitching. The way she whined pulled at his heartstrings, but the intense influence over her was bringing something out in him that he hadn’t previously considered - that something he used in his profession could be so easily applied to pleasing her, more than he’d ever expected.

He pulled away just enough to watch her, the deliciously needy expression on her face, the blush over her ample chest and shoulders, the drops of sweat running down her forehead; the very light smears of makeup under her eyes. 

Spite growled behind him, eagerly watching Kore. 

“Nnnngh, Lucanis! Fill her already! I. Need. Her.”

They had convened (well, she had agreed for his sake- truthfully, she was not at all averse to the idea…) that no, Spite will not be coming out while they were intimate with each-other; frankly, after the things Lucanis had heard him say about her (the things he wanted to do to her), he was horrified of letting Spite out; not yet, at least. They’d barely begun their romance, and he was not about to let his uncontrollable demon lay a finger on his Rook.

“Ours!” Spite snarled at him, but Lucanis was easily distracted again as Kore leaned back, grabbing a hold of his tie to pull him towards her as she rolled her head, impatiently tightening around him until he felt his fingers go numb. Those eyes, the sweet, innocent expression he adored so, replaced by an uncontrollable lust, the gaze of a siren eating him alive.

Fuck, he wanted to please her until she was sick of him.

Cheeks flushed, pupils dilated, hair lighty tousled… she tugged on his tie again, biting into her lip. 

“P-Plea-se?” Her voice wavered, and it was an almost impossible task for him to not just give in; but he was, quite frankly, desperate to see more of the insatiable side of her, the complete trust she had in him, the absolute control she surrendered to the hands of a trained killer.

A primal desire to dishevel her further rose inside Lucanis as he very tentatively started pulling his fingers apart inside her, making her gasp. Pleased with her reaction, he leaned in closer, his hand tracing the fullness of her shapes as he whispered in her ear.

“Beautiful, Rook” his voice rumbled lowly; the elf squirmed as her walls collapsed around his fingers, tugging on his tie more decisively than before. Lucanis very quickly discovered that he really, really enjoyed the feeling of his tie tightening around his neck, watching his elven lover tug him around as she pleased.

“Vhenan…” she croaked in response, shyly glancing away as her lips trembled. He felt her hands shake, urging him to angle his digits better and gently push them further in, inhaling sharply when she threw an arm around his neck, almost straddling him as she hung off the edge of the table.

“Oh, oh, Gods, Lucanis!-”

Swiftly, but carefully, he pulled his fingers out again, hearing her voice break into a frantic sob. Her chest rose and fell erratically. He kissed her ear, her cheek, along her neck and beneath her chin, circling his lips to the other side of her head. “You’re doing so well, my rose.”

His words made her whimper; she almost came from his voice alone, reeling from his praise, barely holding herself steady as more beads of sweat rolled down her skin; Lucanis watched as they beautifully rolled down the curve of her chest before disappearing in her generous cleavage, feeling his hands grow restless. Agile, skilled - the hands of an assassin. Cool, controlled, calculated. Twitching in anticipation.

Her gaze was fully bound to him, entranced; honestly, the pleasure was so intense, she was unsure if she was actually awake or if this was one of her many dreams of him - her heart was rattling so violently inside her ribs, she thought it would burst at any moment - especially as she watched him put his fingers in his mouth, relishing the taste of her as he licked them clean. She stopped breathing, lips agape - the smallest trickle of drool lingering around the corners of her mouth; without a second thought, he softly wiped her lips, tilting her head back.

“I must admit… I’m concerned” he whispered, holding her like that as he analyzed her, “concerned that I might grow much too addicted to seeing you like this.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and squeaked in embarrassment, trying to turn away; he gingerly took her hands and motioned for her to wrap her arms around his neck, moving his own down her wide hips, the thickness of her thighs, before finally reaching behind her, grasping her ass and lifting her with so much ease, it made her heart flutter. Her legs wrapped around him instinctively, feeling his hardness brush up against her very damp core as she let out a long, sultry sigh.

He rolled his hips, rubbing himself against her; it barely took more than a few moments for her wetness to permeate the fabric of his pants, easing the friction between them. She tightened her grip on him, pressing their chests together; he felt the aggressiveness of her heartbeat colliding with his, the way she pulsated against him with lust -  and almost lost himself. 

“Please… Vhehan…” she pleaded, threading her fingers in his hair as she placed kisses over his face, covering his breathtaking features in a pink, shimmering shade of lipstick in the shape of her lips. He smiled between her pecks, moving his hips against her again ever so slightly. His voice was almost teasing, murmuring intimately. “Do you want me to stop?” 

She didn’t answer, burying her face in his neck as he grinded against her again, grasping his shoulders and digging her pretty nails into him so much it almost pierced him through his shirt.

Maker, did that feel - incredible.

He wanted - needed her to scratch him more.

“Should I help you finish, mi vida?” He lulled into her ear, preemptively smirking as he waited for her answer. “N-not…yet…” Kore bashfully glanced at him, surprised by the confidence he exuded as he placed her back on the table and guided his hand back between her legs, slicking his fingers in her juices with one, quick sweep that made her shudder. “Mm… I thought so.”

He slowly laid her down on the table, supporting himself with one arm as he curiously explored the sweetness between her legs; lovingly watching her squirm, gasp, contort under his touch. “Eres mi vida, mi mundo, mi todo (You are my life, my world, my everything)” he purred against her flesh, feeling her grasp onto him for dear life. “Eres mi alegria, la mujer de mis sueños. (You are my joy, the woman of my dreams.)” His voice only seemed to err her further, so he kept talking. The unabated huskiness of his voice rattled her to her core. "Quiero ver como mi Rosalina se deshace para mí. (I want to see how my beautiful rose comes undone for me."

Her thighs trembled violently as he brought her close to the edge, squeezing his sides with more strength than most would give her credit for. He moved so he could hold her thigh up with one hand, pushing her leg back and exposing her to him fully as she cried out in shame, feeling his thumb agonizingly circle her.

“Sathan (Please), Lucanis!” Kore wailed, feeling a flurry building inside her so violently it almost scared her. A heat unlike any other, a pressure threatening to spill at any moment. She brought a hand to her mouth and helplessly bit into it to stifle her screams, curving her spine so much her back lifted off the wooden surface, her chest spilling out of the pink satin of her chemise. 

The sheer self-control it took for Lucanis to not sheathe himself inside her then and there…

The dining room was a lewd mess of sounds; her wetness, her panting, the creaking of the table as she struggled atop; not to mention the sheer magnitude of her broken voice as she squealed and mewled for him uncontrollably, chanting his voice in between elven pet names and implorations. 

“Mierda, I want to make you sing like this for me forever.” The look on his face was one of absolute focus as he drank her depravity in, lowering himself to rest his forehead in between her chest, taking a deep breath in. The scent of her threatened to make him come undone, too, overstimulated by her hoarse cries, her tantalizing appearance, her slickness on his pants and the dull ache beginning to set into his wrist - one he immediately tossed to the back of his mind as he satisfied his Rook.

Her skin, her sweat, her perfume, his scent on her intensified the yearning in his hands, finally sliding his fingers back inside her, hooking them deeply into her core as he kept his thumb caressing her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Kore got to take a single breath into her lungs before she saw white; she might have even passed out for a second as she vehemently coiled around Lucanis, thrashing under him with a high-pitched prayer of his name.

His eyes widened in surprise as a flood of liquid met his hand, squirting all over his fingers and palm, over the hem of his sleeve, the front of his expensive shirt and all over her thighs; that, and the way she twisted and shrieked in utter pleasure while burying his face in her chest, pulling his hair. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, feeling an increasingly insatiable need gnawing him alive.

He was so hard it hurt - and despite him usually being able to ignore it, this time, his arousal for her was almost unbearable.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan…” Kore panted deeply, feeling his face lift back up to hers. He kissed her, trembling fingers cupping his face as she twitched under him, intricately defensiveless.

“Ar lath ma, Vhenan” he responded, lacing the Elven confession with his irresistible Antivan accent. She let out a groan, feeling herself throbbing still, jittery and breathless.  “Te amo con todo mi ser (I love you with all of me)” Rook whispered, trailing her fingers down his jaw and neck, feeling him shiver. “You are a dream come true. My safe haven.”

Her eyes slid to a close, clinging to him; he more than happily obliged, rolling them over so she could rest on top of him, cradling her sweetly, holding her tight as he kissed her forehead, brushing the beautiful length of her pink hair with his fingers. “Look who’s talking” he murmured, leaning his head back to rest against the table. He adored the feeling of her in his arms…

And Spite, well, Spite found it much harder to dismiss the overpowering arousal coursing through him.

Lucanis tried to part his lips to warn her as he felt his consciousness slip - instead, his eyes overturned with a eerily incandescent shade of purple, trailing his hands hungrily over Kore’s body. A growl dragged itself out of his throat, his hands closing around her ample chest, making her weakly squirm as he played with her breasts. “Mercy, Lucanis…”

He bucked his hips up against her ass, reaching a hand between her legs and wrapping the other around her throat, baring his teeth.

“Rosalina. I. Missed you. Need you. So. So. Badly.”

“S-Spite?!”

“Nngh. Yes…” 

She squealed as his grip on her throat tightened, shivering incessantly as he rubbed her clit - fuck, fuck, fuck, she was still so sensitive, she might come again right away if he doesn’t stop - his touch contrasting aggressively with her Crow’s - her demon was rough, impatient. 

Starving.

Kore felt his lips curving deviously against her ear, melting a little too easily into his possessiveness… oh, Gods, she was as horrified as she was excited.

His hot breath tickled her, feeling the dam inside her close to breaking again as he spoke. 

“Finally. Spite’s turn.”

[bonefall]

Did Brambleclaw actually disown the Three when the secret is revealed? I don't remember this happening (then again, it's been a while) but it does bug me how all three go "Poor brambleclaw :(( He was such a good dad to us and he has to learn we're not even his biokits :(((( poor guy" while simultaneously shitting on Leafpool and Squirrelflight despite them showing them more care and affection before AND after the reveal. If he does disown them, then.... WOW is the double standard real here.

In-canon? It's something you have to approximate. They don't seem to have a concept of ""disowning"" because blood relation is taken as such an insurmountable, FUNDAMENTAL fact of life. He doesn't write them out of his little kitty will and testament, but his actions ARE disowning.

It's as if the fact he is not their biological father is an automatic disowning. From the reveal onwards, he is immediately cold, distant, and the "betrayal" is mentioned often. The Three also explicitly don't blame him for his behavior, like it's just to be expected that he's Not Their Dad anymore.

Lionblaze in particular stares longingly at him several times, really missing him. And like... that's kinda what gets my goat so much

I do believe Brambleclaw is entitled to his feelings of betrayal. I believe Squilf was ultimately in the right to lie, actually, but he's still allowed to be upset and angry that she didn't trust him enough to tell him something so important. THAT SAID, YOU ARE NEVER ENTITLED TO TREAT OTHERS POORLY.

And that's what GETS me. He isn't upset that it was all revealed in such a painful and embarassing way when this could have been avoided, or that his lover struggled with this lie for so long without him, or that he feels he's lost his children. Squilf points it out in The Last Hope-- He's so ANGRY at Squilf that he will THROW HIS FAMILY AWAY

Lionblaze seems desperate to be his son again. Hollyleaf is gone for months, and Brambleclaw is still huffing about the secret when she comes back from the dead. Squilf is fawning in the hopes it makes him talk to her again. Doesn't matter. Brambleclaw Is Upsetti Spaghetti so the narrative will never examine his role in hurting this family he apparently loved so much.

(Narrative seems to understand full well that when Squilf lies for a good reason, that doesn't invalidate the hurt Brambleclaw felt... but when Brambleclaw is upset for a good reason, it actually DOES validate what he put her and his kids through)

In BB it is explicitly a disowning. He cuts them off as his children, and they reciprocate. BB!Lionblaze does so in a ball of fury, vowing that he has ONLY a mother.

[mossterunderthebed]

[kami-kun1003]

TWST fic writers stop reducing Silver’s entire personality to just “sleepy boy who falls asleep all the time and is sooooo sleepy and tired and did i mention he sleeps a lot and also he loves his dad” challenge (impossible) (gone wrong)

[eveningrainstorm]

Listen. Swansea is great; he's a well-written character and I like him a lot. But it's weird to me how much fan content I see about him that seems to make him out to be a lot nicer than he's actually shown to be in the game, and nowhere is this more obvious than in how people depict his relationship with Anya.

I've seen other people address the whole "If Anya had told Swansea what happened he'd have killed Jimmy" thing (she did. he didn't.) but there's a larger issue where people act like Swansea cared a lot more about Anya and was a lot closer with her than is actually the case in canon. And sure, the game leaves a lot of room for differing interpretations of things and imaginings of what could have happened offscreen, but I've seen so many people act like this idea of Swansea and Anya being close is something actually depicted in canon which. It very much is not.

Like okay. Let's talk about this. What does the game itself actually show us about Anya and Swansea's relationship?

Well, we don't see much of their dynamic before the crash aside from them just being coworkers with some level of familiarity with each other. They do stand together at the birthday party, and Anya playfully tells Curly that “Swansea really likes that cake. Don’t tell anyone,” to which Swansea only "hmph"s in response. From this we can gather that the two of them are friendly enough that Anya feels comfortable teasing him. Even so, she certainly isn't an exception to his characteristic harshness and brutal honesty — take an interaction later in the same scene, where a distressed Anya says she has no savings and asks if Pony Express can really fire them like this and Swansea, not cruelly but certainly bluntly, tells her that Pony Express going under has been a long time coming.

Of more importance, perhaps, is the game's first "2 months after the crash" segment, where we are first introduced to both of them — and where the game makes it quite apparent just how little Swansea respects Anya. The very first scene, in fact, features Swansea interrupting Anya and mocking her when she tries to explain why opening the cargo hold is a good idea. Later, when talking to Jimmy, Swansea calls Anya "our so-called nurse" and says that "it's in one ear and out the other" when talking about how she nearly got injured on the broken vent. And if you get the code scanner before talking to her Swansea will tell you to get her before opening the cargo hold but specifically with the justification that "even she couldn't make the situation worse with her presence." None of this is really uncharacteristic of Swansea, given he talks about Daisuke in much the same way, but it's not something that can just be swept under the rug — and yet, seemingly, everyone does. I hardly ever see anyone even mention Swansea insulting her here.

Of course, none of these scenes are where the idea that Swansea and Anya are particularly close comes from. No, that idea comes from a single scene: "3 months after", when Jimmy finds the two of them talking in the cockpit at night. We only see the end of this conversation, where Anya, apparently crying, is saying “No. I understand completely. If that’s how it has to be—”

The game never reveals exactly what the two of them were talking about; the two main theories I've seen are that Swansea was telling her that he was saving the cryopod for Daisuke or that she had told Swansea that Jimmy assaulted her and Swansea was saying she'd just have to put up with being around him for the time being. Personally, I think the latter is much more likely, but either way, the end result is the same: regardless of how much Swansea cares about Anya, her well-being is not his first priority.

We never see any follow-up on this conversation; if Anya and Swansea meet up behind Jimmy's back at any other point, we don't see it or hear it referenced. "4 months after" offers no interaction between the two of them at all, with Swansea busy dancing drunkenly while Anya, on the other side of the lounge, tells Jimmy about the extra medicine cabinet. "5 months after", Anya commits suicide in Medical while Swansea sits drunk and oblivious in front of Utility. The only reference to Anya and Swansea's conversation — and the closest we get to a confirmation of what it was about — comes after Daisuke's death, when Jimmy uses "telling Anya who knows what" as a sign of shady behavior from Swansea, and Swansea agrees that he did talk to Anya, "but it was her telling me all sorts of things instead, wasn't it?", the implication being that she told Swansea about Jimmy raping her.

This line is interesting. Swansea is referencing what Jimmy did to Anya here, and implicitly condemning him for it, and yet... well, Anya's already dead. Swansea isn't doing anything for her, really; he doesn't seem particularly emotional or angry about it, either. All it really is, when it comes down to it, is a spiteful jab at Jimmy — just Swansea, still angry over Daisuke's death, trying to get under Jimmy's skin.

We never see Swansea react to Anya's death. This isn't surprising; we aren't shown what happened when Daisuke got the door to Medical open, and afterwards Swansea is understandably preoccupied with Daisuke's fatal injuries. The first thing Swansea says about Anya after her death is the line about her telling him things. And, well... here's the problem.

That line? Is also the last thing Swansea says about Anya.

He never mentions her again. That one line, the one that doesn't even mention her death, the one that seems more about getting at Jimmy than mourning her — that's the last we hear of her from Swansea. And maybe he does care, maybe her death is just as much a catalyst for him trying to kill Jimmy as Daisuke's is. But he never says anything about her. He doesn't mention her in his death scene. Sure, that last portion of the game is largely filtered through Jimmy's mind, his disregard for Anya keeping her out of focus, but Swansea's death — a moment of sharp, simple clarity in which Swansea says all the things Jimmy doesn't want to hear — doesn't have that excuse. Swansea doesn't say a thing about her, because in the end, he's not focused on her either.

So that's what we have. They don't seem to be that close, before or after the crash, though they theoretically could be. Anya telling him specifically about what Jimmy did could be considered a notable show of trust, but then again she could have just wanted to tell someone and considered him her best option, and in any case if she was hoping for him to do anything about it, he didn't. And despite a large portion of the fandom believing it to be the case, there isn't actually anything indicating that he told Anya about the cryo pod — if anything, his assertion that it was Anya who told him things rather than the other way around is evidence against it. Technically, anything's possible — Swansea could have comforted Anya when she told him about Jimmy, he could have offered her the cryo pod, he could have grieved her just as much as Daisuke — but looking at what the game itself presents, the picture it paints is far different from the one typically seen in the fandom.

We don't know what's going on in Swansea's head. We don't know what happens in the time between the moments the game shows us. But what the game does show us is this: Swansea repeatedly is disrespectful and rude to or about Anya; Swansea doesn't do anything after she tells him what Jimmy did to her; Swansea doesn't have any real reaction to Anya's death. Does he care about her? Probably. I'd like to believe so. But she's not the one he decides to kill Jimmy over, she's not the one he has regrets for in his dying moments, she's not the one he's saving the cryo pod for.

Maybe Swansea cares about Anya, but she's not his first priority. And isn't that sort of the point? This is what the game has been showing us the whole time: Anya is no one's first priority, except her own.

[sysig]

Cards 👏 cards 👏 cards 👏 (Patreon)

[adahlenan]

But I'd rather not remind myself and leave it all behind And I've tried so hard to fix it all but nothing seems to help

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

I think I saw Vibrant Eyes by CG5 in there? I choose that. As a former DSMPer. I also like cg5. He's one of the top artists I listen to the most if not #1.

don't (tell them what you've done)

'vibrant eyes' by cg5

truman show au playlist

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another