#actual trivial fun-fact:

[the-desert-beast]

"frightened little prince, keep living, for you can become king one day."

so. funfact. Maelgwyn was a prematurely awakened sapling. he was so sad and wet. for five years, he tried and failed to make his presumed dead by him tree's cave a home. the cave screamers, cave-ins, and scarcity of food made that impossible. eventually he had spent so much time failing to make it work, stressed, scared to death, crying every night, he decided risking his life trying to find somewhere better he could actually live at, was far preferable to certain death in that cave with a tree he could not hear nor understand.

[friendrat]

Did ya'all know that the Huntsman's name in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is Humbert?

[rivilu]

Ooo...

[aphhera]

Genuinely think I might have stumbled onto like the root of why I do things

[bacchuschucklefuck]

there's no need to apologize at all, this is very very cool to read! and specifically for those assumptions too; I worked on these designs with decently specific arcs for each of the bad kids in mind, and I wanted the designs to reflect that, so the fact that you picked up on a Lot of what I meant to put in there without reading any other texts I've written for the class swap means I'm doing a good job 💖 character design enthusiast to character design enthusiast communication

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hey! I just found your blog and I’m now obsessed with the variant marks! If it’s alright to ask, do you have any HC for them??

Invincible Variants x gn! Reader

Warnings: pretty marysue, toxic relationship, angst, mentions of canon-typical violence and death

A/N: heya, love! so glad I infected you with the hype ehehe. since you didn't specify what kind of hc's you wanted I just threw in whatever came to mind. 💌

Omnivincible idolizes his father to an unhealthy degree, but ultimatively if he ever had to decide beween him and you he'd choose the latter.

It was easy for him to get rid of all his friends and allies, hell, even his own mother...but he spared you, unable to imagine a life without you by his side.

He keeps the true nature of your relationship a secret, having convinced the empire that you're merely a slave for his personal entertainment, but he does consider you his legitimate mate. Be ready to get called his 'pet' a lot, but he'd rather have you like this than not at all.

While mostly in denial about all of the obstacles and dangers to this secret affair, he's relentlessly searching for a way to artificially extend your lifespan.

Movincihawk is one of those people who are somehow stupid and smart at the same time. I bet his father never actually made him see a school from the inside, thinking their inferior human knowledge is beneath them. So while he's a capable fighter and strategist, you somehow have to explain the most trivial concepts to this man - and he's absolutely delighted every time, even though he's too distracted by your beauty to actually listen.

This one is all bark and no bite honestly. He's a bully and loves harmlessly pranking you but if anyone disrespects you in any way they're suffering dire consequences.

Behind closed doors he'd do anything for scraps of your approval really. Out of that very same reason he loves to brag and show off, as well as indulge you in any way he can think of.

Frankly he doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks about his feelings towards you. Not that anyone would dare speaking up anyways.

I feel like Sinister is a born sociopath, and his universe probably is a tad bit more evil in general. Like there was no major event or anything that led to him being this way, this is just his default.

On the inside he is a deeply insecure person and tries to mask it through his god-complex. Rarely and only subtly he lets his guard down around you, just to become ten times worse afterwards, to compensate having shown weakness.

His fixation on you began when you dared standing up to him, unafraid despite being like a bug he could crush under his boot any given time. This fascination made him keep you alive long enough to develop romantic feelings for you, however he is still in denial about them.

Emotions in general are a foreign concept to him, so he keeps telling himself you're just a fleeting pastime. Even you are not safe from his sadistic tendencies, especially since he revels in trying to scare you away and knowing you'll always come back to him eventually.

The immense arrogance of Target/Striped Mark stems from him being raised 'for greatness' from the very beginning. He spent his entire childhood secluded from any civilization, alienating him from earth's inhabitants.

Back during his teenage years, after his powers awakened, he gave in to his curiosity and explored the planet and their people incognito, meeting you by sheer coincidence. Although his upbringing had indoctrinated him to believe you to be a lowlife, he felt drawn to you again and again.

When you found out about his true nature, he didn't leave you any choice and instead abducted you directly. He is a very strict man and has high expectations not only in himself and his subjects, but especially in you. And even though he has a soft spot for you, you better not disappoint him.

Fun fact: Him shouting so much does in fact not stem from his obvious anger issues, but rather a training injury that left his hearing permanently impaired.

No Goggles Invincible was probably raised the most merciless, being tormented both emotionally and physically from a very early age. This caused his mind to break at some point, which is the reason he's acting even more unhinged than the others.

In his dimension Debbie sided with her husband, and Mark greatly blamed her for not having protected him from Omni-man's abuse, ending up in him ultimatively killing both of his parents. So it's no wonder he has major trust issues, trying to control you through fear. Prepare for mood swings, regular break downs of his and random loyalty tests.

Due to his hardly contained sadistic site, he has a hard time restraining himself from harming you. On the other hand he also greatly enjoys you inflicting pain on him in any way possible. Sadly this is the only form of closeness he's used to, and being treated tenderly is actually frightening to him.

Once he almost killed you in a violent fit of rage and this mistake haunts him to this day. Ever since he's terrified of touching you.

Viltrumite Invincible got abducted by Nolan shortly after birth and was raised among his people, only returning decades later to finish what his father started.

And just like the main timeline Nolan, he folded like a lawnchair after crossing paths with you. It was love at first sight really, and being subjected to true affection that was frowned upon in his culture was just the nail that sealed the coffin of the empire.

Several times he had tried to regain his focus, coming with the intent to kill you for distracting him from his goal, and yet much to his frustration he could never bring himself to do so. The last time he tried he ended up asking for your hand in marriage.

Unlike his father however he confessed the truth to you way earlier, claiming that meeting you made him reevalue everything he was ever taught.

Prisoner Invincible got his scars as a punishment for rebeling against the Viltrum empire and trying to take over their reign. Actually they intended to rehabilitate him out of sheer desperation for their population was dwindling, but he couldn't care less.

Unlike the other variants who joined their father since it's the path of least resistance, he refused to after being told you wouldn't be allowed to be together. He is as much of a dangerous and ruthless individual as his counterparts, but he always remained loyal to you. It was the two of you against the rest of the universe, quite literally.

Even after finally being reunited with you his disfigurement never really bothered him, since the bond you two shared exceeded anything else.

The most similar to the original Mark would be Unmasked Mark, at least in the beginning. Yet he soon realized that any resistance to the power of Viltrum was useless, so he just gave in to his fate and worked for a cause he deeply despised.

Even after his betrayal and you ending up joining the resistance you'll find yourself entangled with each other every time you'd clash. Until the very end you believed that he'd have a change of heart, never stopping to treat him with kindness despite being on different sites of the battle.

Over time he became so immeasurably hopeless and full of self-loathing that he killed you as an act of mercy, in order to spare you a gruesome death during their explotation of the planet.

He still listens to your old voicemails, it's the only way he can find some sleep.

Fully Masked Invincible is the most sensitive of the lot but far from innocent either. He took the risk and tried to stop Viltrum from the inside, but their influence slowly but steadily corrupted him from the inside. And the less human he felt, the more he feared he wasn't worthy of your love anymore.

Viltrum considered his sentiments for you a flaw, and even though he ended the relationship to keep you out of harm's way, they got rid of you so you couldn't intervene with their soldier any further. He blamed himself for not having been there to defend you, haunted by nightmares of how he held your limp body as life left your eyes.

He was never able to fill the void in his heart, and with nothing else to live for he continued to work for the empire, growing callous to all of the carnage around him as everything seemed pointless without you.

Shall he succeed to get another version of you back with him, he's awfully overprotective, the mere thought of losing you again making him paranoid. Expect anything from constant surveilance over being imprisoned and even people close to you getting murdered 'for your own good'.

[salemlunaa]

❀˚܀stop stalling and admit you’re afraid ❀˚܀

it’s okay to be scared but you gotta know how to deal with it.

❀˚܀ ACT I | Admit to yourself you’ve been stalling

no you’re not being productive while scripting every single detail, i get that can be satisfying but when are you gonna lock in. Do you feel accomplished when you sit back up for the fifth time “before i induce let me script this ONE LAST thing”, just to wake up in your unfavourable story? again?

Although scripting puts so much joy in creating and shifting awareness to your new story, you need to admit to yourself that spending more time scripting trivial stuff than actually trying to induce pure consciousness can be harmful.

܀˚❀ ACT II | Look at the law

at this point we all know the law of assumption tells us to “assume as if to be that which you want to be”.

so assuming you have your dream life, are you sitting there upset about your circumstances, begging for an instant method of you were there. Would someone who’s just baked a cake sit there and script what the cake would look like and what flavours it would have, would they cry and get desperate for an instant cake-baking method?

Would someone who has successfully manifested blonde hair be binge watching “i hAvE bLoNdE hAiR ✨✨” subliminals, or would they spend time gushing over their hair and how beautiful and blonde it is, which is basically reaffirming what’s true: they have blonde hair.

Instead of stalling and being miserable, gush over your new story, actually apply the new fact that you’re in your dream life, apply he fact that you are a master at inducing the “I AM” state. Use what you know to reaffirm what’s true.

܀❀˚ACT III | It’s okay to be scared, how do we deal with this?

Sure it’s comforting to reduce yourself to a “failure” even after barely trying. You fell asleep one too many times so you run back to stalling, you don’t wanna let yourself down again. You “failed” and woke up in an undesirable state. You don’t want to go through that again so you stall and tell yourself that doomscrolling on tumblr and adding “one more thing” to the script is way more important, and that you’ll “do it later”

But I must warn you, this will lead you down a path where more time is wasted. And although time is a concept do you really want to spend a day more in your unfavourable environment? you could’ve have everything, an hour ago, yesterday, a few minutes ago, IF YOU APPLIED.

“But it’s not that easy…” according to who? who is assuming that?

“But I always fall asleep and fail it’s not that simple…” according to who? your subconscious doesn’t know that so who is perpetuating that assumption over and over again?

“scripting feels so good tho lemme just try tonight” TRY? the operant power doesn’t try! and yes scripting is so fun, but more fun than living the dream?

i thought so.

as you can see you can flip these thoughts, you don’t have to be afraid of failure if you know failure doesn’t exist for you. you don’t have to stall when you succeed at everything you do, there’s no point in it.

so get off your ass and apply loves, this community is lovely but don’t stay here longer than you need to

🐅🌀 don’t be afraid and apply what you know

[naivegh0ul]

thinkin ab being ghost's little assistant <33

Being Ghost's assistant is actually more fun than it seems. Yes, you know he's a scary, powerful man. And he's fired many assistants before you just for breathing too loudly, but he seems to take a liking to you... sort of.

He orders you around most of the time, barking commands at you. "Go get my tea. And don't spill it this time." He grunts. The last time you had gotten him tea, you'd tripped over a wire and spilled it all over your white shirt, staining the fabric and making it see through. Ghost had been more concerned about his tea than the fact that your tits were visible through your blouse.

Like the dutiful little assistant you are, you wander off to the office's kitchen and brew Ghost a cup of tea, adding a tea bag and no sugars. That has been drilled into your head many times, most of those times have you bent over Ghost's desk, your hands pulled behind your back as Ghost thrusts roughly into your cunt, growling down at you about he specifically told you no sugars, and now his tea is too sweet to drink.

Occasionally, he's nice to you. Calling you into his office just so he can have you sit on his lap and look pretty, his chin resting on your shoulder as he types away emails and you lounge on his lap.

Once he's done with that, then he'll push your thighs apart and slip his hand under your skirt, kissing down your neck and along your shoulder as his fingers rub your clit through your lacy panties, his gravelly voice cooing in your ear about how good you're being for him, sittin' so pretty on his lap, letting him do whatever he wants with you.

He can play with you for hours, content to just lean back in his chair and play with your pussy, hiking up your skirt and forcing your legs apart so he can stuff his fingers inside you and make you cum over and over on his thick digits, curling them repeatedly to make you whimper and cry.

But you know his all time favourite thing to do with you is bend you over his desk and spank you. He just loves to teach you a lesson. It doesn't matter how trivial the mistake is, whether it be you messing up his tea again or just a little typo in an email. He'll use whatever excuse to have you in his office, bent over the desk with his hand coming down on your ass over and over.

You know the other office workers can hear your cries for mercy as Ghost hasn't bothered to soundproof his office, but you don't care. You want them to hear, want them to know how he treats you and that you're his good girl.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― i like the way you kiss me . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

― the ways in which they kiss you when you aren't actually together yet ₊˚⊹♡

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn! reader, choso x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, slightly suggestive for some of them if you squint a/n: just some headcanons i wanted to write after listening to i like the way you kiss me by artemas plus i needed a short writing break from my risk - megumi fic that i've been working on. hope you guys enjoy this !!!

gojo satoru kisses you like he misses you already despite barely being apart for more than a few hours. it didn't matter to him that he just saw you moments ago. that was nothing more than a trivial fact to him, just like the fact that you two still weren't actually together yet, in the grand scheme of things. why should he be waiting any second longer to feel your touch on him? he was never good at being patient anyways.

"missing me already huh?" you murmur against his lips, his hands securing you against him as he pinned you against the brick wall of the restaurant behind you two.

he scoffs at your comment. "oh shut up." his lips are on yours again in a matter of second. you weren't going to lie, you were enjoying this. to see someone so powerful like gojo satoru yet so susceptible to your presence to the point where he couldn't wait anymore to have your lips against his. with his flushed cheeks and slightly puffy lips, you want to forever immortalise this image of him in your mind. silently, you thanked whatever was out there that he decided to forgo his sunglasses tonight as their absence allowed you to truly appreciate the beauty of his eyes, even being able to notice the tiniest specks of what appeared to be gold in his pupils.

as he tilts his head to the side to better fit his features against yours, you swear you can feel his every breath with how flushed his chest is against yours. you even earn a soft groan from him when your fingers dance across his undercut, taking your time to run your hands through his snowy locks.

you're glad that his eyes are closed right now, getting a ticklish sensation as his long eyelashes kiss the expanses of your cheeks with the slight flutter of his eyes so that he isn't able to notice how the red blush that was once contained on your face has now expanded outwards to the tip of your eyes. he bites at your bottom lip gently, as if asking for permission to go further and you grant his request with a faint gasp of your own.

"noisy, aren't we?"

"oh shut up."

geto suguru kisses you like you're his already. the way he snakes his arms around your waist and presses his lips against yours only makes you sink further into his touch. if he wasn't holding you up right now, you would probably melt into the floor just from his proximity alone. you've been dancing around the issue for a few months now, fleeting touches in a dark room, longing glances across the room. it was all fun and games for both of you, seeing how long you could drag out this game of teasing and temptation until the other had enough. you thought you were doing pretty well. that is, until he decided to show up here again and well, just imagine the feeling of his lips against yours wasn't enough anymore.

you've always wondered what it would feel like to card your hands through his raven tresses and now, with your fingers tangled in up there, you can safely say it was better than you could have ever imagined. if it wasn't you who was the one messing up his hair, he would have some choice words to say about it, but as of right now, that was the least of his concerns. right now, his priority was seeing how long it would take for him to become consumed by his desire for you and it seemed like he wasn't going to last long. not with how you would let out a low whine every time his teeth grazed your lips or with your wandering hands taking this opportunity to explore the expanses of his well-sculpted back.

you feel like you've just had your breath stolen from you with how heavily you were panting against him, your faces flushed with want and kiss-swollen lips as evidence of what had recently transpired between the two of you. neither of you make the move to break apart as he leans down to ask.

"so what does this make us?"

nanami kento kisses you with so much restraint it only incites you to try and break down his defences further. his kisses barely feel like pecks, leaving you to subconsciously chase him for more every time he pulls away. he doesn't dare to try and do more, to push the boundary further. not only are you not technically together yet but also he's afraid. not of you, but rather of what would happen if he let his resolve fall and indulged in his selfish desires for what would be the first time in a long while.

he stops for a moment, his face barely hovering centimetres above from yours as his eyes flicker between your slightly agape mouth and your half-lidded eyes, watching him closely as you try to anticipate his next. he couldn't tell which one was drawing him in more at that moment. his breath hitches momentarily when he feels a soft tug at his tie, your right hand absent-mindedly toying with the edges of it as you place your other hand against his chest as if attempting to brace yourself against him. he couldn't tell but your legs felt like they were about to give out at any second with how every single cell in your body felt electrified with the amount of desire and anxiety coursing through your veins.

silence dragged on for what felt like ages, both of you unmoving in your positions until you muttered under your breath. "kento..." your voice was barely above a whisper but at that moment, it turns out that he was not as strong in his resolve as he thought he was with that being all he needed to dive right into you, fully untethered this time as his lips crashed against yours.

kamo choso kisses you like he's scared that this will be the first and last time he'll ever get to do so. there's so much fear and hesitation in his movements yet at the same time, you can feel the fervour and passion that is pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against you. his hands are hovering around your figure, scared to fully let himself hold you as if he's worried that the moment he makes contact, you're going to snap out of whatever daze you're in and run away from him. you aren't going to do that of course, if only he knew how long you were waiting for this to happen. as you feel the cold of the concrete wall against your back, the two of you part, albeit reluctantly, from each other to catch your breaths.

"..are you sure?" he asks breathlessly. his pupils are blown wide open as his eyes seemingly turn into infinite purple voids, watching your every movement unblinking.

you run your fingers across the back of his neck, toying slightly with some of the loose black strands that were clinging to his skin. he looks pretty like this, you think to yourself. he looks at you so eagerly, so soft and pliable in your hands, as he nervously awaits for your response.

"never been more sure."

fushiguro megumi kisses you like you're the air he breathes. who would have thought someone so famously reserved like megumi had it in him like this? you aren't given long to ponder on that thought as his lips are against yours once again, moving in sync with an imaginary rhythm as you frenziedly grasp at the material of his shirt in a weak attempt to try and ground you against his closeness to you. with every slide of his lips past yours, you're pretty sure that he's simultaneously taking and giving you back your breath which you previously thought would be impossible to do but are now sorely proven wrong.

you're not even a lightweight or anything when it comes to alcohol but you're pretty sure you're drunk on the feeling of him the moment his mouth was on yours. much to your surprise, the spikes that he calls his hair are actually pretty soft as you run your hands through them, a soft tug at the hair beneath your fingers drawing out a barely disguised groan from him. you giggle softly against his lips at his reaction and he silences you with another kiss, not that you were complaining as you ardently respond by tilting your head off to the side slightly to grant him better access to your face. your eyes are closed but you can imagine the half-hearted scowl on his face with how his brows furrow in the way that they always do against your forehead.

even though it was barely minutes ago, your mind is hazy as you try to remember the circumstances that led to this situation right now. it was probably a stupid argument that you guys got into, like the two of you usually do, and somehow that resulted in him wanting to prove his point more unconventionally. you give up on trying to recall the details as you can feel your face start to burn up as one of his hands start to wander down to rest against your hips.

"so," he pants, the heat of his breath is warm against your lips. "does that prove my point?"

itadori yuji kisses you eagerly, trying to savour every single moment of his lips against yours. you could feel the excitement basically pouring out from him with each movement of his lips against you, even eliciting a giggle from him that reverberates against your mouth as your noses bump against each other. it's a messy, disorganised sort of kiss with you being sure this is the third time you've accidentally grazed your teeth against his. fortunately for both of you, you're all way too engrossed and intoxicated on the sensation of the other's lips to care.

every time one of you tries to catch your breath, the other tries to chase your lips as they attempt to recapture that feeling again. as your arms encircle his neck, pulling you close to him, you're pretty sure you can feel him groan quietly against your lips with his hands reaching up to cup your face. with a deep sigh, you sink into his warm embrace, taking the moment to fully breathe him in like your life depended on it.

one of his hands falls from your face and gives a tentative squeeze at your waist to which you gasp quietly. taking this opportunity, he breaks apart from your lips and presses a flurry of kisses across your face which earns him a wide grin from you as you half-heartedly attempt to defend yourself from his sudden kiss attacks.

if you knew that a simple, experimental peck on the cheek could earn you this, maybe you should try to do this more.

okkotsu yuuta kisses you like you're a dream come true. hear him out. he never thought that he would get to experience touch like this ever again in his life, nevermind it coming from you in this manner. to him, you were what sweet dreams were made of, so ethereal, so delicate and so much better than whatever could exist in such a cruel world like this. but once again, defying all his expectations, you were here right in front of him and your lips were on his, faster than in the blink of an eye.

cradling the back of your head with his hands, he leans into the feeling of your lips against his as the two of you move in sync with each other. as if the moment couldn't get better, it was as if your lips were perfectly moulded for his or vice versa. he didn't care which way it was, all this fact did was solidify the thought in his mind that you were sent down onto earth from whatever heavenly plane people like you come from just for him to bask in the presence of.

his eyes are closed for two reasons. one, because he's scared that if he opens his eyes, this will be nothing more than a dream that he has to wake up from and two because he's pretty sure that if he was able to see you in your flushed, kiss dazed glory, he would explode on the spot.

despite being able to tell how badly he's been wanting to kiss you, he doesn't let it overpower him, instead taking the upmost care to make sure that you were still unharmed, treating you as if you were some piece of delicate china that could break at the slightest of wrong moves. while it was nice, you were feeling particularly greedy in that moment. you wanted more.

right as he breaks apart for air, you're already back to pulling him closer than humanly possible at this point by the collar of his shirt and you find that you're rewarded with a soft gasp escaping from him as your lips find each other again, this time with a renewed sense of desire and want.

[coffeefleecy]

Winner Takes All

Pairing: Caleb X MC X Zayne

Summary: You've made it a ritual to have Caleb and Zayne at your place to keep your friendship thriving with movie marathons and game nights. The struggles of growing up and becoming adults unfortunately include the possibility that you can't see each other very often and Caleb is away so much that he begins to feel the distance. Contempt breeds competition and Zayne is Caleb's number one rival.

Warnings: blowjobs, cunninlingus, afab reader, second person pov

Game nights at your place with Caleb and Zayne are some of your favorites. It’s not often that you get to see them both in the same place, especially since the three of you have gotten older. Zayne’s been busy with the hospital and Caleb with the fleet. You partially feel like they tolerate each other’s company to be around you with how they act around each other, but you appreciate them casting whatever reservations they have aside for you. The problem? They’re both insanely competitive; Caleb in an all-encompassing, braggadocious way and Zayne in a calculating, nonchalant way.

Caleb’s selected some territory conquering game that involves a bit more thought than you have in the tank and more game pieces than you have the patience for. You’re also not entirely sure you understand the rules due to Caleb’s insistence at reading through the manual before the actual gameplay that causes your eyes to glaze over. Caleb and Zayne can take information in regardless of the method, but you require a more hands-on approach that doesn’t involve reciting the intricacies of a 20 page manual.

All of that culminates in a recipe for disaster and the fact that Zayne is a bit kinder to you than Caleb does you know favors. You’re not even halfway through the game when problems begin to arise and Caleb catches Zayne whispering the next optimal move in your direction.

“You’re not supposed to be fraternizing with the enemy,” Caleb spits at Zayne, who simply returns his vitriol with a lightless, unamused stare.

“I don’t have the faintest clue as to what you’re talking about,” Zayne says evenly, averting his gaze to the mess of cards on the table. 

Caleb’s eyes shift to you, gaze as possessive and unwavering as his evol to the point that you can feel it.

“Caleb, don’t be mean,” You complain, putting your game cards face down to cross your arms over your chest.

“I don’t remember the rules saying that,” Zayne pinches the bridge of his nose. “Besides, I’m not really sure why we’re feeling the need to make a competition out of something as trivial as this.”

Caleb scoffs.

“Don’t bullshit me, Doogie Howser, you know you go easy on her, don’t you?”

“I don’t see why that’s a problem,” You retort and turn to Zayne to mutter, “Thanks, by the way.”

“Whatever,” Caleb rolls his eyes and starts packing his pieces away, ignoring your protests. “I just think it’s a little lame that you guys do this whenever I pick the game.”

Caleb’s been getting progressively more upset by little things when the three of you gather. You suspect it has something to do with the fact that Zayne is nearly an every day fixture in your life; a constant that Caleb can’t be because his work takes him away. It’s not exactly something that anyone can point out without an awkward conversation or an argument, so you simply let it be, but the tension has been at a steady incline and currently rests at a point that you highly suspect might be the peak.

“You’re being unreasonable,” Zayne points out. “I was just helping her out when she was confused. The rules aren’t beginner friendly and I’m sure you know that.”

“Then why did I waste half an hour going through them before we even started?” Caleb counters, shoving his game pieces forward with a huff.

“Caleb, you know that I can’t catch on quickly like you two do,” You reason with an exasperated sigh. “I want to play, you know I want to play. I’m excited for this game - I just needed a little bit of help. Really, this is supposed to be fun.”

A fleeting look of hurt flashes across Caleb’s face before he immediately masks it.

“Okay, then if no one’s having fun, let’s just do something else. Or call it, I guess it doesn’t matter.”

“Caleb –”

“It’s fine, pipsqueak,” He offers you a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and leans forward to place a hand on yours. “I’m kind of being a jerk and I get that. I want to have fun, so let’s just do something more fun.”

You regret the comment you made about the fun level and bite your lip, glancing from Caleb to Zayne, who’s examining his fingernails with a distracted interest. You turn back to Caleb and turn your palm right side up to slip your fingers through his, the gesture causing him to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

“Hey, I think we’re all tired this week. Getting this together was a headache as it is with your schedules and you both know how much I love that you make this work for me, right?”

Caleb’s eyes open and you can see a soft resignation in them when he squeezes your hand back.

“I know, pipsqueak - let’s just clean this up and watch a movie or somethin’,” He releases your hand to start gathering all of the pieces. “You gonna help me clean this up, Doctor Strange or are you just gonna stare?”

“Zayne, is that okay with you?” You offer the chance for input that Caleb snatched away. 

“If that’s what you want, then I’m content with it,” Zayne rises from his chair to help Caleb. “Why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable on the couch?”

“No, I can help -”

“Go sit down, pipsqueak. Pick out whatever you want to watch. The doctor and I will take care of this.”

Despite the gnawing, nagging feeling that they’ll tear each other apart if you’re not in their presence, something in their voices indicates that you should leave it to them. You give them a nod before heading to your spare closet to grab some extra blankets to try to make things as comfortable as possible and make your way to the couch.

You’ve landed on an old sci-fi film with horrible CGI that you know Caleb and Zayne will both get a kick out of. There isn’t much commotion happening on their end despite your worries that they won’t be able to get along without you present and soon enough, you hear them finishing up. 

“You want something to snack on, pipsqueak?” Caleb calls from the kitchen. 

“I noticed you have popcorn,” Zayne supplies. “Is that something you’re interested in?”

“Actually that sounds good,” You answer, fidgeting with the remote while you wait. “You want me to come in there and make it?”

In lieu of a response, you hear the beeps of your microwave followed by the gentle sounds of popping kernels in the distance. You have the sneaking suspicion that they planned on making popcorn regardless of your response. Caleb emerges from the kitchen a few minutes later balancing one of your larger bowls he’s dumped the popcorn into and a few sodas. Zayne follows behind, paper towels in hand. 

“Wow,” You remark wryly. “Your efficiency as a team is unbeatable.”

You don’t miss the slight sneer on Caleb’s face as he sets the bowl down on your coffee table. 

“Oh, good choice,” Zayne is completely oblivious to Caleb’s expression, his attention focused on your television. “This is a classic.”

“You’ve seen it?” You pout as you accept the soda Caleb’s handing to you.

“Yes, but I’m perfectly fine watching it again,” Zayne says easily, turning some of the lights off in the room before taking a seat next to you on your right.

“What about you, Caleb?”

Caleb’s gaze lingers on your face before he reluctantly looks to the screen to observe the title.

“Oh, Eternity Battles – you’ve seen this too, pipsqueak. We watched this a long time ago together,” Caleb remarks, throwing that last bit in Zayne’s direction, which goes unnoticed by your bespectacled friend.

“Must have forgotten,” You grab a handful of popcorn and shove it in your mouth. “Do we want to pick something else?”

“No,” Caleb and Zayne both say at the same time and meet each other’s sheepish gazes.

“This is fine,” Zayne assures you.

Caleb takes his seat next to you on your left, taking care to make sure that he’s as close to you as he can be without touching you. 

“Just hit play, pipsqueak.” ____________________________________________________________

You’re barely a quarter of the way into the movie when you realize that neither Caleb or Zayne are paying particularly close attention. Caleb’s fingers twitch at his side, dangerously close to your thigh like he wants to touch you. Zayne’s eyes are trained on Caleb’s hands, his brows knit together in a kind of concentration you’ve only seen when he’s nose-deep in his medical textbooks. 

“Caleb,” You murmur, reaching out to tap his hand with your index finger. “You okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” He replies with an uneven, somewhat shaky voice. 

“If you wanted to head out, neither of us would be upset with you,” Zayne speaks up, voice uncharacteristically heavy. “We can finish the movie another time and she and I can find something else to watch.”

“No,” Caleb snaps his head to face Zayne and fixes him with a withering stare. “I just said I was fine.”

“Um - am I missing something? Are you guys okay?” Your voice cuts through the tension and they both avert their gazes.

Caleb rests his hand on your thigh; a gesture meant to convey comfort but swimming in unspoken intention. You swallow the lump in your throat, but don’t move.

“It’s fine,” Caleb tries to say casually, but the instability in his tone gives him away.

“No, it’s not fine. Come on, you’ve been on edge every single time we all hang out together. Did something happen between the two of you? Did I do something?”

You’re looking at Caleb, but Zayne rests his palm on your other thigh, commanding your attention. Zayne’s fingers dig into your skin and he squeezes, his clean-cut nails gently biting into the flesh.

“No, there’s no problem,” Zayne promises you. “Caleb just doesn’t like the idea of us being together alone very much - right, Caleb?”

The confrontation that lurks beneath the surface of Zayne’s thinly veiled jab shocks you. Despite the growing strain between the two of them that you’ve noticed in the past year or so of your gatherings, you’ve never heard either of them come right out in front of it. To your shock, Zayne doesn’t stop there.

“You mentioned that in the kitchen, didn’t you? You’re not very fond of the fact that I spend more time with her than you do, are you?”

“Zayne -”

“Shut the fuck up,” Caleb snaps, pulling your thigh closer to his lap possessively. “I didn’t say that.”

Zayne tilts his head to the side in an inquisitive way that feels calculating.

“Not in so many words,” Zayne acquiesces. “Perhaps I embellished. I could tell her what you actually said, if you’d like.”

“You really are a snake, aren’t you?” Caleb bites back. “You’re really gonna tattle on me? Fuck you.”

“Woah,” You cover Caleb’s hand on your thigh with both of your own. “What is the problem? Everything was fine an hour ago!”

“He’s upset that I get to spend more time with you than he does,” Zayne supplies dryly, unable to mask the contempt in his usually cool voice. “So he’s acting like a child.”

“Caleb,” You say softly. “Tell me what’s going on. You’ve been acting like this for a while now - if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

Caleb looks distressed, at war with himself as he debates on whether or not he actually wants to say anything. Something in him shatters and the words come tumbling out in a clumsy stampede.

“Fuck - fine! I just miss you, okay? I - I don’t get to be around much like I used to and it’s not a great feeling. You spend so much time with him that even when we do hang out, you’re paying attention to him.”

Your heart wrenches at his words coupled with the hurt expression on his face. He looks like a kicked puppy, dejected and embarrassed as the tips of his ears turn as red as his cheeks. You lift your right hand to his cheek and stroke the soft skin there delicately, desperately trying to soothe his worries.

“I miss you, too, Caleb. I care about both of you equally, okay? I know you don’t like each other’s company much, but the fact that you both make it happen for me when I want to see you both means the world to me -”

“Oh, it’s no bother to me one way or the other,” Zayne interjects, though the spritz of venom in the words say otherwise. “I couldn’t care less whether he’s here or not.”

You turn to Zayne to give him a look, but Caleb grabs your chin with his free hand, clutching it between his index finger and thumb to jerk your attention back to him.

“Look at me,” Caleb murmurs, his voice just a decibel away from a growl. “Don’t look at him.”

“Caleb, if you can’t-”

“Please,” He begs. “Please just look at me.”

You soften with his pleas, the desperation and neediness making you feel dizzy in a way that you can’t put your finger on.

“I just miss you - so, so fucking much. I’m sorry I’m not good at conveying that, but I just want you to know you can rely on me and that I’ll always be there and the fact that we can’t see each other as much hurts me, pipsqueak. It really does.”

“Caleb - ah!” You squeak as you feel Zayne’s arm curl around your waist, tugging you closer to him. 

“You can rely on me, too,” Zayne murmurs, his large hand flattening and splaying possessively across your stomach. “He doesn’t care about you any more than I do.”

“Yeah, or any fucking less either,” Caleb seethes, grip still tight on your jaw so your attention is fixed on him, then asks desperately, “Pipsqueak, you love me, right?”

“O-of course, I do - I - I love you more than anything, Caleb what are you -”

“How do you love me? How do you see me? Because I can’t stand you looking at me like some kind of older brother figure or friend anymore. Pipsqueak, I - I love you, okay? I love you so much it hurts to be apart from you and it’s getting harder to ignore it.”

“I - of course I don’t th-think of you that way, but -”

“Please, can I kiss you? Please, just - just let me kiss you.” 

Caleb doesn’t care how pathetic he sounds when he begs and sheds all of his reservations in a a hard, heavy exoskeleton to bare his soul to you. There is no shame or embarrassment in the way that he cares for you; loves you so loudly and proudly that begging is his second nature. He used to beg to cook for you when you were too tired to do it yourself and beg to make your life easier with acts of service; a love language that Caleb has taken to the extreme and then some and more so since you’ve been apart more.

“Caleb, I - I want to, but Zayne is -”

Caleb cuts you off, suctioning the words out of your mouth and brain entirely as he slots his lips against yours, desperate and probing when his tongue probes the seam of your lips. Your acceptance and spoken desire is all the permission he needs as the hunger eats away at his restraint and threatens to consume him. He releases his grip on your chin, slipping his hand into your hair to root his fingers in the tendrils, anchoring your face to his own as he kisses the breath out of you to rob you of words completely.

“Zayne is right here,” Zayne finishes your thought, tugging you away from Caleb to face him, lips swollen and slick with a mixture of yours and Caleb’s saliva. “And I’m tired of standing in the shadows because it’s easier.”

“What do you -”

“I’m here. You let him kiss you, so will you grant me the same honor or is that a line you won’t cross with me?” He asks gently, delicately trailing his hand up from your waist to your shoulder, his touch feather-light and intense all at the same time.

“Go ahead,” Caleb challenges, taunting. “Why don’t you give Specs his first kiss?”

Zayne rolls his eyes, his carefully constructed mask cracking like plaster under Caleb’s barbed insult. You turn back to Caleb who’s observing you with interest and the slightest tinge of envy. He moves back as if he’s waiting for you, nodding his head in a way that screams an unspoken, “Well, go ahead.”

“Is this okay?” Zayne asks gently, lifting his hand from your shoulder to cup your jaw. “Don’t force yourself.”

You deem a verbal response unnecessary and close the distance between you and Zayne and delicately press your lips to his. Zayne’s lips are pleasantly cold and soft against your own, soothing in an unexpected way that challenges his rigid demeanor. You know Zayne to be kindhearted with so much lurking beneath the surface that others don’t see, so the loving way in which he kisses you back is pleasant, but not something you’re unprepared for.

“So sweet,” Zayne says against your lips before parting them with his tongue, tilting his head to get better access with a motion that gives you the inkling that this isn’t his first kiss.

“How do I taste, Doctor?” Caleb goads, though the insult is less malicious and teeming with genuine curiosity.

Zayne’s patience with Caleb has been saint-like over the past few months and he’s usually able to let things roll off of him, his silence ricocheting back at Caleb that cuts deeper than any verbal response. Despite the fact that Zayne is the portrait of nonchalance and composure, getting to finally taste your lips like he’s been itching to for years awakens a voracity in him that far outweighs his penchant for peace-keeping. With a strength that surprises you, Zayne leans back to pull you into his lap, adjusting himself so he’s lying back on a couch cushion and you’re straddling his hips. 

“Tell me to stop,” Zayne manages between pants, breathy and sweet. “I think you and I both underestimate the realms that my control stretches to.”

“Don’t want to,” You whisper, the puffs of your breath hitting Zayne’s lips and making him shudder beneath you. “Kiss me like you want to, Zayne.”

Something in the way you say his name is Zayne’s undoing, eyelids fluttering shut as he inhales sharply and grip tightening on you with a craving that transcends his ability to convey. Caleb’s resolve is an eroding mountain; crumbling little by little in sediment sharp enough to inflict pain in intensifying doses over time – Zayne’s is the swift and sudden avalanche cascading down in massive chunks in a devastating destruction that wounds all at once.

Zayne’s fingers slip into your hair, cradling your skull to pull you as close as physically possible to him. Your teeth clash together clumsily, a mishap that Zayne ignores entirely to pry your lips apart. His tongue massages your own, wet and urgent like he’s afraid you’ll disappear at any moment and he’s running out of time. You vaguely register the nearly imperceptible moans that course from the back of Zayne’s throat to snuff out in your mouth, the barrier of your tongue keeping them from carrying. 

“You were never good at sharing, were you?” Caleb’s hoarse voice comes from behind you, yanking you from the trance of Zayne’s cool, comforting lips. 

There’s barely any time for you to turn to him, because Caleb’s arms wrap around you from behind, strong and all-encompassing. Caleb presses his body to yours, his front molded to your back to make you look at Zayne.

The sight of Zayne makes your breath hitch. Your intelligent and soft-spoken friend is splayed across your couch, legs haphazardly spread with one draped over the edge, too tall to fit. Zayne’s hair is mussed, sticking up in tufts that scream to be pulled at and his glasses are askew. It’s not often you get to see Zayne in his casual attire due to his job and the necessity for professionalism outweighing comfort, so you always appreciate when he dresses down to see you. He’s opted for a navy blue shirt with long sleeves that fits, but stretches over his chest snugly and accentuates his muscular but lean frame. Denim is a rarity for Zayne and somehow he’s decided to grace you with the presence of it, but the type of fabric is the furthest thing from your mind as your line of sight wanders between his legs to the bulging just beneath the zipper.

“Looks like you got Doctor worked up,” Caleb murmurs into your ear before nipping it gently. “Does that make you feel good about yourself, hm?”

“C-Caleb, I -”

“When you say stop, this stops,” Caleb assures you, reading you before you can make sense of what you’re feeling. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” You breathe. “Is - Is that bad?”

Caleb snorts like you’ve just asked the dumbest question ever and presses his lips against your neck, hands wandering over the thin fabric of your Hunter’s Association tee shirt. Zayne’s gaze is unwavering, pinpointing every movement and every kiss Caleb gives you, laser focused on the other man’s lips. Caleb’s hands explore the expanse of your stomach before moving up to your chest to hesitate, hovering over your breasts.

“Touch me,” You encourage him.

You know that Caleb can read your physical cues better than you can explain to him, but he never does anything without asking or without consulting you first. You sense that he can feel the heat radiating off of your skin even through your clothes, but he needs that push; the consent and your permission to allow him to touch you in ways that he’s been dreaming of for years. Caleb cups your breasts through your shirt, sighing between open-mouthed kisses against your throat. 

You’re refraining from making the noises you want to out of fear of the shame that’ll come with it and good, reliable Caleb seems determined to get you to break. Caleb slips one of his hands down to the hem of your shirt and underneath it, the contact of his warm skin against yours making you shudder. With his other hand, Caleb tucks his fingers underneath your jaw and tugs slightly to get you to look back at him only for him to capture your lips in a ravenous kiss that’s more tongue than lips and more feeling than precision. Caleb is sloppy the way he claims your mouth; eager and wet like he can’t wait for your fluids to coalesce. You used to hate the way he ate and drank; slurping popsicles in the Summer until he was a sticky mess and guzzling water so messily that more ended up cascading down his neck in rivulets than down his throat. Now, you can’t get enough of his enthusiasm. You’re unable to control the whimpers he draws from you with his lips and his wandering hand that’s slipping beneath the cup of your bra to tweak one of your nipples between his forefinger and thumb. You can feel his body trembling and you’re almost flattered until you realize he’s snickering against your lips.

“Wh-What’s so funny?” You demand after cutting off the kiss, lips covered in his saliva like the owner of an over-eager puppy.

“Nothin’, just think Doc’s getting a little jealous,” Caleb raises his voice and lightly jerks his head in Zayne’s direction. 

You turn your head away from Caleb to look over at Zayne and squeak at the sight that greets you. Zayne, your sweet, doting Zayne is a panting Salvador Dali painting of a man as he melts into your couch with his eyes trained on you and Caleb, palm grinding against the front of his jeans in controlled, slow rolls. 

“Look, pipsqueak,” Caleb jeers. “Look how worked up you make him. Make us.”

Caleb punctuates his words by rolling his hips into you from behind, forcing you to feel how hard you’ve made him. He pinches your nipple, wrenching a sharp gasp from the back of your throat, keeping up the steady grind of his hips against your ass. 

“You like knowing that you can do this to us, don’t you?” Caleb accuses, lifting his free hand from your face to trail it down your stomach and then to your inner thighs, parting them so Zayne has a view of your underwear through the leg hole of your shorts. “Look at how pathetic he looks –”

Zayne’s concentration wavers, throat working to swallow the thick lump present there as he watches Caleb spread your legs. 

“Tell her how pretty she looks, Doc.”

“Stunning,” Zayne remarks, surprising you that he dignified Caleb with a response.

“Tell her how stunning,” Caleb presses, palming your breast with one hand while trailing his other to the center of your shorts. “I’ve seen the way you look at her for over a fucking decade but she doesn’t seem to be that observant.”

The implications of Caleb’s words send shivers down your spine and when you look into Zayne’s eyes, you doubt he’s embellishing. 

“Beautiful,” Zayne continues, closing his eyes as he touches himself through his jeans. “So beautiful - every last part of you. Every breath, every laugh, down to every molecule and atom encoded in your makeup, you are ethereal.”

Caleb dips his fingertips beneath the waistband of your shorts, hesitating before your waistband.

“This okay, pipsqueak?”

You lean into his touch, back wedged against his front, hoping he’ll accept that as an answer.

“Gotta tell me,” He insists. “Need your words.”

“So embarrassing,” You whine. “Please, Caleb.”

Caleb slips his fingers into your panties to find them soaked through, creating a slip that makes it easy for him to glide against you.

“Maybe we aren’t the only ones that are wrecked, huh?” Caleb teases, dipping the tip of his index finger into your soaked entrance to fuck you shallowly with it. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“How wet?” Zayne demands, voice hoarse and strained. 

Caleb chuckles and the vibrations his laughter creates are pleasant against your skin. He slips his finger in deeper, the length of his finger enough to already reach a depth that you’ve never been able to explore on your own.

“Soaked, slick and tight,” Caleb groans, abandoning your breast to tug your shorts and panties down your legs without having to stop touching you. “Want a thorough exam?”

Zayne growls in frustration, rough enough to make you question whether or not you were hearing things. He tugs his jeans down his thighs to make himself more comfortable and grants you with the sight of the thick outline of his cock through his briefs before shucking the jeans off completely to lean over you, obscuring his lower half from your vision. Zayne pulls the offending fabric off of your body entirely, finishing Caleb’s job for him in Zayne’s urgency to see all of you by taking one last look with his glasses before setting those aside, too.

“Do you want him to touch you, sweetheart?” Caleb coos, noting how tense you get when Zayne flattens his hands on either of your thighs and props himself up on his elbows to settle between your legs.

“Y-yes, please, Zayne - ” You babble and nod your head aggressively, worried your verbal consent won’t make them work fast enough on its own.

You whimper at the loss of Caleb’s finger when he slips it out of you, but don’t have to miss the feeling for too long because Zayne fills that void immediately by stretching you out with two of his fingers. 

“Fuck,” Zayne loses even more of his composure and swears, the word harsh and foreign to your ears despite the organic way he hisses it. “Soaked.”

Zayne scissors his fingers inside of you and the professional, even-tempered man you’ve known your entire life dissipates entirely, fragments of him chipping off and floating away with every thrust of fingers and cry he robs of you. Zayne’s face is so close to your heat that his breath spreads in hot puffs across your skin.

“Think she needs more,” Caleb muses, eyes glued to Zayne’s fingers thrusting in and out of you. “Why don’t you lap her up and let me know what she tastes like?”

Zayne ignores Caleb but shifts his gaze from your cunt to you, eyes lidded with desire and face as red as when he has a drop of alcohol, intoxicated by your scent and the way you feel clenching around his digits.

“May I?” He asks raggedly. 

“Wh-What?”

“Taste you,” Zayne murmurs. “Will you let me?”

“You don’t h-have to,” You stammer, instinctively covering his hands with yours, the nerves getting the best of you when the reality of how close he is to you sinks in. 

Zayne pulls his fingers out of you, observing the long strand of arousal that connects his digits with your entrance with calculated interest. He lifts himself up and raises his fingers to Caleb’s face, pressing them against his lips. A beat passes and with almost no hesitation, you hear Caleb sucking Zayne’s fingers into his mouth and groaning at the taste.

“Fuck ‘s good,” Caleb slurs, slightly muffled with the presence of Zayne’s fingers. “You’re gonna love it.”

A string of saliva stretches between Caleb’s mouth and Zayne’s hand as he pulls his fingers out and you don’t see Caleb’s tongue chasing the taste, darting out to follow.

“Listen to Caleb,” Zayne hums, lowering himself between your legs yet again, his face centimeters from your center. “Don’t tell me what I don’t have to do – I’m perfectly capable of making those decisions for myself. Won’t you be a good girl and tell me what you want?”

He enunciates, breath fanning across your cunt in a way that has you quivering. He pushes your hands away and parts your lips with the tip of his index finger to nudge you open, leaning forward so that his lips hover above your clit.

“Will you let me have a taste directly from the source?” Zayne’s framing of the question is polite, but something dangerous lurks beneath the surface of that fixed tone.

“Wanna see you break, pipsqueak,” Caleb murmurs into your ear, rubbing the tops of your thighs gently to soothe your nerves. “Let us see how pretty you look when you’re feeling good – make him put that mouth to better use.”

You close your eyes and nod with a quiet yes and you’re rewarded instantly.

Zayne opens you up completely with his fingers, spreading your lips so he can get the perfect view of every part as he studies you intensely. He flattens his tongue against your entrance and drags it up the expanse of you to your clit to suck the bud into his mouth. He swirls the tip of his tongue against you and groans when he tastes the fresh surge of arousal leaking out of you. Your eyes widen when you open them out of curiosity to see Zayne’s fluttering, rolling into the back of his head as he tastes you thoroughly.

“Good?” Caleb prompts, his own uneven breathing betraying the control he’s trying his hardest to maintain.

“Delicious,” Zayne corrects hoarsely, pressing his fingers to your entrance while his tongue toys with your clit and moving his left hand against your thigh to anchor himself for some semblance of stability.

“You like it when he touches you there, huh?” Caleb murmurs into your ear, stroking your hair back sweetly. “Tell me how good he’s making you feel.”

It’s all too much - the feeling of Zayne’s fingers slipping into you to work together with his tongue, the non-stop teasing from Caleb’s lips - you feel like you’re overheating. Zayne soothes you by gently tracing delicate, nondescript patterns into your thigh with his free hand, the sweet motion  starkly contrasted by his fingers pistoning in and out of you.

“That wasn’t a rhetorical question, pipsqueak,” Caleb’s voice is shuddery, low and commanding. 

“I c-can’t,” You breathe out, unable to string together more than a couple of words. “Feels - It feels good.”

“Good? That’s not very nice, now, pipsqueak! Here Poindexter MD is putting those anatomy classes to good use and you can’t even let him know how he’s doing to thank him properly? Don’t tell me - he’s not doing a very good job?”

Zayne’s free fingertips dig into the meat of your thigh as he crushes his tongue over you, sweeping and greedy to collect every last drop of your arousal. You’re trembling so much, your poor excuse for a couch is protesting beneath you, groaning alongside the slew of other sounds that serve to overstimulate you in the form of Caleb’s filthy words and Zayne making out with your cunt.

“Wh-where did you learn to talk like that,” You demand in a thinly veiled attempt to distract Caleb from teasing you further. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Be a good girl and use those words for us, huh? Tell Zayne well he’s doing for you or he’ll stop.”

He wouldn’t, would he? Caleb is bluffing. Zayne would never listen to him over you.

“Zayne,” You whine.

You feel Zayne’s movements decelerate as he pulls his fingers out of you completely and presses a light kiss to your swollen clit. He looks up at you from between your legs, face flushed with exertion and arousal and lips dripping with your essence. 

“Well? Is it satisfactory or not?”

“Wh-What?”

Zayne lifts the fingers that were just inside of you to his lips to smear your arousal all over them before swiping his tongue out to taste the rest of you. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes uncharacteristically darkened with the intoxication of your taste and scent.

“Won’t you be a good girl like Caleb said? Tell me how I’m doing - tell me what you want.”

The sight of his fucked out expression and sound of that very un-Zayne-like vocabulary has you flinging your arms over your face, the attention on you proving to be too overwhelming. Caleb doesn’t waste one second and grips your wrists to pry them away from your face, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he restrains you to force you to look at Zayne.

“You heard him, pipsqueak,” Caleb presses. “How do his fingers feel inside of you? You gonna be good for him and give us both something to taste?”

“Please,” Your voice is hoarse as you beg. “Please - don’t stop - I don’t know wh-what I want I just know that I want you to keep going.”

“You want me to take care of you?” Zayne asks, holding your gaze when you meet his. “Or would you prefer I stop?”

“No!” You cry out, embarrassed at how panicked you sound.

You can feel Caleb shaking with laughter behind you.

“Well, if you aren’t going to tell me,” Zayne trails off.

“We’ll stop.” Caleb finishes for him, and you hate that now of all times they decide to be in sync with each other.

Zayne looks at you expectantly, no sign of continuing in his stillness or stare. 

“What about you?” You whine, flustered with all of the attention. “Wanna make you both feel good, too.”

Zayne smirks.

“Caleb, flip her over.”

Huh?

Caleb must be able to read Zayne’s mind because before you can protest, he’s maneuvering you in his arms like a rag doll, flipping you so you’re chest to chest and facing him. Caleb gently moves you down his body so your face is level with his stomach and trails one hand down your spine to the small of your back. Caleb presses, indicating for you to arch your back and you choke on a gasp as Zayne aids him by steadying you with both hands on your bare ass.

“If you really need to find something to do while he eats you out you can touch me,” Caleb maunders, taking your hands in his to press against the bulge in his sweats. “Feel how hard I am for you?”

“I -”

You’re cut off by Zayne’s mouth and his tongue probing inside of you, his hands digging into your asscheeks to keep you still. The movement has you falling forward, unable to keep yourself upright and scrambling for purchase in Caleb’s sweats.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t tell me you can’t focus on more than one thing at a time?” Caleb teases, the sweetness in his voice juxtaposing the fire in those violet eyes. “Here, I’ll help you.”

While you’re subjected to onslaught of wet, precise torture under the pleasure of Zayne’s tongue, Caleb slips his hand into his sweats. He lifts his hips to jerkily tug the waistband down and grips himself through his boxers when he’s freed himself from the cotton.

“Just like this, y-yeah?” He instructs, taking one of your hands in his free one to press it against him, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your hand finally touching him through the thin material. “Nice and slow, just like that, baby.”

You muster every bit of focus you’re capable of and allow Caleb to show you what he likes, biting your lip to stop the moans that threaten to spill out when Zayne slips a third finger inside of you from behind. The way your hips are angled gives Zayne more room and more depth, his fingers hitting a spot inside of you that you’ve never felt before. 

“C-Caleb, c-can’t,” You whimper with a warning as you feel yourself clench around Zayne’s fingers. 

“Are you gonna come for us, sweetheart?” Caleb lifts his hand from his cock to your cheek, soothing you with gentle strokes as Zayne fucks you with his fingers, the pressure and intensity forcing you further into Caleb’s lap. 

“I - I don’t -” You babble, unable to string together more than a few words as Zayne curls his fingers, figuratively and literally eating them out of you. “F-Feels so good.”

Caleb reaches up with his other hand to cup your jaw, steadying your head so he can drag his other fingertips across your cheek to your mouth and presses down on your bottom lip with his index finger. You part your lips for him, granting him access to shove his finger inside and push it against your tongue.

You curl your tongue around Caleb’s finger, thankful for the distraction and the stability in Caleb’s strong hands. It’s not surprising to you that Zayne is able to take you apart within mere minutes of getting the feel of you, but you’re unprepared for the tidal wave of your orgasm when he alternates his tongue with his fingers, pulling them out of you to rub your swollen, exposed clit. 

Caleb’s fingers slip from your mouth as you release the suction, lips falling open as a sharp, broken moan painfully claws its way out of your throat. Zayne doesn’t relent, tongue milking you for everything you’re worth, his dexterous fingers rubbing you through the waves with a cruel precision that brings you to the brink of overstimulation. It isn’t until you’re trembling so much that your legs can no longer hold you up when Zayne pulls away, a mixture of your arousal and his saliva dripping from his lips and jaws. 

“That’s it, atta girl,” Caleb tries to say coolly, though when you look up at him, his eyes are glazed over. “Damn, I gotta hand it to you, doc. She’s fucking shaking.” 

“I can feel that from here just fine,” Zayne drawls, wiping your residue from his face with his fingers before taking them into his mouth to take every last drop you’ve given him.

“Think she can give us another one?” Caleb wonders.

“Switch with me and I’m sure we can put that theory to the test,” Zayne moves from behind you to stand and surreptitiously adjusts himself through his boxers. 

Caleb presses a sweet kiss to your forehead before jumping at the opportunity, making sure you’re steady enough on your own before moving to the other side of the couch. 

“This your first time doing any of this, pipsqueak?” Caleb asks casually, but a hint of anxiety plagues the question, like he’s afraid of what you’ll have to say.

Caleb takes a hold of your hips from behind to carefully flip you over to your back, taking extra measures to not be too rough with you after the intense orgasm Zayne gave you.

“F-fingers, no -” You don’t miss the way Caleb’s expression darkens before continuing. “Th-The other thing, yes.”

“So no oral sex,” Zayne says bluntly, letting his jeans sag beneath his hips. “What about regular sex?”

“A c-couple times,” You admit shyly, tearing your gaze away from Caleb’s as a sneer curls at his lips. “Just a guy I dated for a few months my first year of college.”

“I don’t need to know who,” Zayne kneels on the floor so he’s face to face with you and lightly kisses your lips. “I just need to know what you’re comfortable with and what your boundaries are. Right, Caleb?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Caleb grumbles, clearly fighting the demons ripping at his patience. “We’ll make you forget all about him. You gonna let us fuck you, pipsqueak? You trust us?”

You nod and despite your insecurities, you’ve never felt so safe with a man before. The two men you’ve known for the majority of your life have your best interests and safety in mind and you can feel it in the way they touch you; like they’ve been given the secret roadmap to know what makes you sing for them. Zayne cups your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly, letting you adjust to the new positions and allowing you to taste the tang of yourself on his tongue.

Caleb makes quick work of his sweats, his underwear following in rapid succession. You notice the shirt he’s wearing -  the annoying white one with the unnecessary buckles - and you realize you need to see all of him. 

“Take it off,” You blurt. “Hate that stupid shirt.”

Caleb barks out a laugh and fulfills your request, his brief agitation from before melting away.  You’ve seen Caleb shirtless more times than you can count and it’s affected you before, but with the new frame of context with him between your legs it practically sends you spiraling. 

“Hate my shirt or just want to see me fully naked, pervert?” He scoffs good-naturedly, spreading your legs.

He takes his neglected cock in his hand and strokes it from base to tip, squeezing his eyes shut and shuddering. You can’t even answer him because you’re staring, open-mouthed and eyes wide as you take in the sight of him. 

“You - what the hell, Caleb?”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’ll fit,” Caleb answers your unspoken question, tapping it against your pubic mound. “Fuck, Zayne - condom?”

Though you find it kind of funny that Caleb only chooses to address Zayne by his given name when he needs something, it’s hard to laugh when you realize he’ll be inside of you. Zayne kisses your cheek before getting up to disappear into the kitchen where his bag is and returns within moments holding a strip of condoms.

“W-We don’t need that many!” You panic, counting eight of them. 

“We’ll see,” Zayne says dryly, giving no indication as to whether or not he’s joking, but Caleb laughs. 

Zayne grips the corner and tears the condom packet from the perforated edges to toss to Caleb, who nods his thanks and tears the packet to put it on, but you notice he lays the rest on the floor next to the couch instead of returning them to his bag. You don’t have enough time to worry if he really does plan on going through all of them when he takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him.

“Eyes on me, darling, okay? I want you to keep looking at me,” Zayne orders gently with a soft dominance that lets you know he’s in control no matter how kindly he’s treating you.

Caleb spreads your pussy apart with his fingertips and guides the head of his cock to your entrance, a deep, animalistic groan coming from deep in his chest as he feels you for the first time. He nudges his cock inside of you, slow and steady, letting you acclimatize to his considerable size. 

“Fuck, feels so good,” He groans throatily. “So good to us, making it all wet and easy for me.”

He pushes in a couple more inches, again letting you acclimatize to the intrusion while Zayne commands your gaze.

“That’s it, darling, just keep looking at me,” Zayne pairs his words with a knowing, sympathetic nod. “Good girl, you’re doing so well.”

When Caleb bottoms out inside of you, the pressure is so intense that you can practically feel him in the back of your throat. He’s so deep that it almost hurts, but Zayne’s taken extra care to make sure you don’t feel the stretch as badly as you would have without the preparation. You flex your hips, wincing at the intrusion. Caleb is as perceptive during sex as he is in every other facet of his life, especially when it comes to you, so he bites down on his lip to keep himself grounded and stills.

“Look at that, he’s all the way inside of you,” Zayne marvels before slotting his lips against yours.

Zayne sucks your tongue into his mouth, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs and Caleb flattens a hand on your abdomen like he’s trying to measure how much of you he’s taking up. The pressure of his hand is delicious and you whimper into Zayne’s mouth, unable to keep up with his kisses. 

“Gonna move, yeah?” Caleb grunts.

“Yes,” You breathe against Zayne’s lips, your mind yanked in a million different directions.

The drag of Caleb’s cock against your walls as he pulls out is delicious, intense and overbearing in all of the best ways like Caleb is in general. He withdraws until just the head of his cock rests inside of you and trembles, shaking his head to bring himself back to Earth so he doesn’t get lost in the feeling of you.

“You don’t have to do anything, okay? Let us take care of you,” Zayne mutters, trailing his lips from yours to the column of your throat.

“Lift your hips for me, baby,” Caleb instructs, slipping his hands underneath your ass as you obey. “That’s it, good girl.”

Caleb offers you a moment to adjust, his pleasure taking a backseat to your comfort. 

“Gonna fuck you, okay? Is that okay with you, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes, please,” Your voice is strained, throat raw from the exhaustion of being fully serviced by the two people who mean the most in the world to you. “Need to feel you, Caleb.”

The way you say his name breaks any barrier of restraint and Caleb surges forward, filling you up all of the way as he chokes on your name. You love the nicknames both of the men have for you, but hearing your name gasped so reverently from Caleb’s lips while he buries himself inside of you causes something to sting in your eyes. Salty, warm tears brim at the ducts, threatening to spill as Caleb sets a ruthless pace. Zayne wipes them away with his thumbs, murmuring sweet praises of how good you’re being for them against your throat, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your flesh.

“Caleb!” You cry out as he thrusts into you, cock hitting a spot so deep it’s like it knocks the wind out of you. 

Your head falls back, slack in Zayne’s hands until he corrects you, tightening his grip on your jaw.

“I said keep your eyes on me,” He warns. “Keep your eyes on me or I’ll have Caleb stop. You don’t want that do you?”

“No!” You panic, tears flowing freely as you babble. “No, no, don’t stop, please - almost - almost there.”

“Are you going to come for us again?” Zayne asks, lifting one of his hands to smooth your hair away from your sweaty, tear-stained face. 

“I don’t - I don’t know,” You answer truthfully, head empty with the way Caleb’s fucking you senseless. 

Zayne leans forward to pry your lips open with his tongue, swallowing your cries. He pulls back to stand up, briefly releasing his grasp on your face. He tugs his jeans and underwear down to his knees and takes his cock in his hand. Zayne is long and curved, a prominent vein throbbing down the expanse of his dick. He’s kept himself neatly trimmed and groomed meticulously, not a stray hair or blemish marring the skin around it. 

“Open,” He insists. “Okay?”

You don’t have much experience with giving head – your last ending disastrously with your ex boyfriend’s cum ending up in your eyes - but it’s the last thing on your mind as your mouth waters at the sight of Zayne. You part your lips for him and he hums, guiding his cock to your lips with one hand and returning the other to your jaw to stabilize you. You take his head in your mouth and experimentally swirl your tongue around the tip, slightly ashamed that you’re loving how much they’re filling you.

“Fuck, I’m not going to last,” Caleb growls. “I can feel her fucking clenching around me.”

Your mouth falls slack when Caleb slams into you, a fresh wave of tears leaking from your eyes as the pleasure pricks gooseflesh all over your skin. Zayne takes the opportunity to feed you more of his cock, releasing his grip on it to grab your hand and place it on what you can’t fit in your mouth.

“Does his cock feel good inside of you?” Zayne inquires with a mean edge, clearly not expecting you to be able to answer. “‘Do you like being a good girl for us?”

Caleb slips one of his hands out from under your ass to lift it to his mouth and spit in his palm. He spreads the saliva between your legs, making sure to cover all of you. He pinches your clit between his thumb and index finger and presses, revelling in the way you convulse around him. Your lips part in a scream that Zayne’s cock muffles and more of him slips in, triggering your gag reflex. You choke around him, spit dripping out of the sides of your mouth as your eyes water. 

Zayne pulls out entirely and kneels to face you and covers your lips with his. He takes himself in his hand, stroking and squeezing in the rough way he’s accustomed to when he’s alone and murmurs sweet apologies into your mouth.

“So sorry, so good for me,” He gasps, your kisses devolving into sloppy licks, all tongue with no intention to do anything but feel. “You’re such a good girl for me - for us.”

“Fuck!” Caleb swears, the last thread of his dwindling restraint snapping and fraying like old rope. “Gonna come, g-gonna come,”

The combination of Caleb’s assault on your clit with Zayne’s sweet praises has you spasming until you go completely still, eyes widening in the shock of an orgasm so intense that you can’t move. Caleb doesn’t stop his fingers as he fucks you through the swells and torrents, your name the only thing on his lips when he spills into the condom. 

“Our good girl, behaving so well for us,” Zayne barely manages between rough pants as he spills into his hand. “So good for us.”

Caleb pulls out of you, his frame shaking with exertion and the shockwaves of bliss, and clumsily pulls back to collapse into the couch. Zayne rests his sweaty forehead against yours, his seemingly endless supply of composure tapped as he pants roughly. 

“Z-Zayne what about -” You worry.

“Don’t worry about me darling,” Zayne assures you shakily and winces as he discreetly wipes his hand on his jeans. “Lay back for me. Caleb?”

“What?” Caleb groans. 

“Let’s go run her a bath,” Zayne instructs. “I’ll give you a moment to collect yourself.”

“Yeah, fuck, I’m getting up - we’ll come get you in a second, sweetheart.”

Zayne stands, his movements abnormally slow and clumsy. He leans forward to kiss your sticky forehead and disappears into the bathroom. Caleb follows suit, even more clumsy and gives you a kiss on the cheek. A few moments later, you hear the sound of your bathtub faucet running and the faint sounds of Caleb admonishing Zayne for not using enough hot water. You smile to yourself, exhausted beyond belief, and let yourself relax until your best friends come to get you.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Not a request but imagine Viktor debating whether or not to augment his dick because on one hand fun sexy times and on the other it's his dick shit can go wrong and he doesn't want to affect his fertility if he decides he does want kids

You know, as a fandom, I feel like we don't discuss the dick situation as much as we should... like, I've given my opinion on what's up with the Arcane Herald Penis Predicament (go read more on that in my one-shot The Prophet spoke, and the faithful knelt 👀), but I can't imagine the Machine Herald Cock Conundrum is the exact same...

Here is my hypothesis:

So, Machine Herald replaces the parts of his body that he considers weaknesses or that could be augmented with technology and machinery.

Dick and balls are pretty inconvenient from a technical standpoint, they're an easy target to incapacitate someone in a fight ((fun fact, some animals actually know this and will attack the face or the genitalia of other animals/humans to inflict the most damage)). Plus, they are a strong testament to how much the human body is controlled by emotions and impulses, so it wouldn't be that far-fetched to assume MH!Viktor would have gotten rid of them.

HOWEVER

I believe that this theory would be missing an important aspect of MH!Viktor's philosophy and identity. What he craves is an evolution of the human species through the removal of weaknesses of the flesh, such as illness. And evolution REQUIRES the continued existence of a species through time, which means reproduction is still a key aspect in his vision. It would be counterproductive for him to want to get rid of reproductive organs: they're an essential part of making sure a long-term evolution is even possible.

Additionally, MH!Viktor has been shown through various parts of his lore to be exceptionally caring about children. In that same vein, season 1 Viktor often brings back the concept of having a personal legacy...

Considering both of these factors, I'd say that, yes, MH!Viktor still has his human penis. BUT, he would also definitely get rid of the flaws I mentioned earlier.

For example, he would likely be able to at least partially regulate blood flow to his cock, in order to be in control of his own bodily reactions (ie., when he wants to be hard or not). He would also probably add some sort of protective cover or coating over it, with a flexible but resistant material that would prevent genitalia from being used as a weak spot. Almost like a permanent, metal cocksleeve.

If he was to gain a lover along the way, perhaps the sleeve could be tweaked a little, to add some bonus features. A length enhancer, or some bumpy ridges... the possibilities are truly endless. But it would all be solely for the purpose of his goal, of course, not for something as trivial as pleasure. A lot of research seems to correlate female orgasm to higher chances of pregnancy; he's only doing what has to be done to strengthen the future of the Glorious Evolution. Any additional physical enjoyment is merely a side effect, nothing more.

IN CONCLUSION, according to my professional, scientific opinion, I believe MH!Viktor would keep his human penis, but remove all its conceptual weaknesses with technology. There is simply no version of Viktor in the multiverse that doesn't make use of his big, fat cock, and that's just the way things are 😌.

[sporeclan]

🪲 for Puddle!

[Ask game]

🪲: What do they value most?

Definitely connections and reputation! This man thrives off of knowing everything about everyone at any moment, and he needs his good standings with everyone else to be privy to the newest drama on the block

@lilpepperspray

🌳: What are their life goals? Deputy, Leader, MedCat/Healer?

Puddle doesn't have any grand ambitions to be honest. He just wants to hang out and be a bit too nosy. In fact, he might already be living his dream just by virtue of being around a large group of people who have tons of interpersonal drama to angst about all the time lol

(I will do Fennelacorn later!)

😸: 3 fun facts!

- The reason he squints all the time is just that his eyes are really sensitive to light! He has a similar gene to that of the Topaz cat, which depigments the eyes specifically. That's also why they're such a pale blue and the pupils are all pink-ish! I imagine he probably has some level of visual impairment due to how intense the light sensitivity is, and his habit of squinting isn't helping that either

- He actually wasn't planning on staying in SporeClan long and really just came here to check the situation out. But after a while he decided he enjoyed it here so much that he settled down for the long haul!

- While, yes, he DOES enjoy himself some good ol people watching, a good amount of what his clanmates perceive as him staring at or watching them is honestly just him zoning out so unbelievably hard. Most of what he learns about others is by conversation, not actually by witnessing

💤: Are they a heavy or light sleeper? What are their dreams like?

Very, very light sleeper! In fact, so light of a sleeper that he can't fall asleep around loud sleepers. This leads to him being regularly found sleeping in hard to access and oddly out of the way places around camp by his clanmates

As for his dreams - I don't know! I feel like he'd probably be one of those people who just don't dream, or at least don't recall their dreams

(Thank you! :D His in game eye colour is blue!)

🐁: Favourite prey?

I think he'd really enjoy pheasant! It's kind of a rare treat and he gets to enjoy it with multiple clanmates

🕸: What does their family tree look like?

It's nothing really special :') He was born a single kit to town cats, either strays, kittypets or either or. He doesn't really talk with or about them. Good luck getting any information about them at all out of him though lol he's a man with a death grip on his secrets no matter how trivial they are!

🧹: Favourite and least favourite clan task/chore/patrol?

He would probably really enjoy changing out the bedding in the dens! He gets to eavesdrop and stay in dim, temperate conditions. What's not to love?

Now he isn't really one to complain, and he's generally happy so long as he has some form of company. So I think his least favourite activity would probably be something like hunting alone? Especially during winter where it's cold, it's bright and the prey is scarce.

[cerastes]

It IS fun seeing the AI* bubble stretch thin and threaten to burst each passing day these bozos fail to monetize it successfully, but what I really want is for the post-burst period when someone with an actual good head on their shoulders uses this technology for stuff like early breast cancer detection or as a tool animators can use to lessen the weight on the more trivial but equally time-consuming parts of animating, and other such things that the technology can be used for, because I think it’s important to understand the technology IS impressive and has potential, it just happens to currently be something big companies are trying to purpose into a replacement for employees at all and leading the most annoying people you’ve seen online argue that “actually using it makes you akin to an art director”.

*or what tech chuds have sold and branded as AI, which in fact is not Artificial Intelligence.

[stinkyturd]

Your Fragrance

Pairing: Romeo Lucci/Reader

Comments: It's Romeo, so it's gonna be a little possessive and weird. If that makes you uncomfortable, this probably isn't your cup of tea. Also, I absolutely hate naming throwaway characters, but I did here to avoid confusion, haha. So, if for some reason you're second guessing if you're misremembering a canon side character, you're not. 🙂‍↕️

Working for Romeo could be exhausting.

The Sinostra vice-captain always had something for you. Be it helping out with casino security, sending out reminders for outstanding loans, or doing menial errands like fetching him various products he may need to keep his skin hydrated or his hair in mint condition. Sometimes he'd even message you at ungodly hours when you were tucked away, seconds from slumbering at your cathedral. 

Overall, you didn't mind. It's not like you HAD to do it. Darkwick hadn't been quite as needy with sending you out on inspector related errands, so you had the time, and you didn't mind Romeo's company. Sure, his personality is completely abrasive and an acquired taste, but underneath it all he had some redeeming qualities. And for some reason he chose you to hire as an assistant. You didn't get paid much. In fact, it was lower than minimum wage. You're pretty sure you could get a part-time job around the campus that would be far more fruitful with less work. 

And now that you were on consistent speaking terms, it was a lot easier to find ways to get under his skin. It was kind of fun pushing him to that level of irritation just before it all boils over. Oddly enough, a scrunched up scowl really highlighted his devastatingly pretty features. You're not sure you've seen anything quite like it on anyone else before. 

Right now, you are sitting next to him on the massive sectional sofa in the VIP room, listening to him rant about trivial anecdotes while you check his email for him. 

"I don't want to deal with these degenerates speaking to me any longer!" Romeo huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You need to establish a precedent in this place that no one should talk to me without pre-approved incentive!"

Your eyes remain locked on the laptop in front of you as you attempt to read over a document sent to you by one of the vice-captain's subordinates, while still acknowledging Romeo's ramblings. "I can give it a shot. What happened this time?"

"A fool from Frostheim came in this morning. That USP told me that the new cashmere divan I purchased for the lobby is tacky! What the fuck does he know about quality luxury...?! That buffoon probably washes his face with hand soap, if he does at all!"

You smirk a little at that, clumsily scrolling the page in front of you with just a trackpad. "Is he a regular?"

"Yes, it's that idiot that always sits at the table by the high limit slots! The one with those shitty, thick-framed, square glasses!" Romeo leans back into the sofa, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Oh...?" Your lips tug into a mischievous smirk. "I think I remember that guy. Dark hair, super clear skin? Has good taste in cologne?" The student he's referring to does actually have dark hair. You remember because it's not the first time Romeo has complained about him. The rest of the description you gave is entirely fabricated. 

You catch a glimpse of the vice-captain's reaction in your peripheral vision. If looks could kill.

Romeo narrows his fuchsia eyes at you. "Have you lost your mind?! Clear skin?" The vice-captain leans in close, jabbing a gloved finger to his face. "This! This is clear skin!"

"Oh, for real?" You don't look up as you suppress a shit-eating grin, tapping away at the keyboard in front of you. 

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, nitwit! I can't have my BB of an assistant prancing around thinking that some Frostheim pig's face even compares to mine!" Romeo removes the laptop from your lap, setting it on the low-profile table in front of you.

You flick your gaze over to his face that's less than a foot from yours. Placing a hand on your chin, you pretend to examine his skin. "Hmm... really? I don't see the difference." 

You did. No one's skin glows as much as the man in front of you.

Romeo clenches his jaw so tightly you're almost concerned he's going to grind down his perfect teeth. "You don't see the difference...?! Perhaps we should get your eyes checked! And you're supposed to be the one surveying the EITS?!"

"But you agree his cologne is pretty solid?" Your lips twitch as the vice-captain's face comically becomes more animated with each snarky comment you make. 

"That fool may as well be rolling around with a wet dog! Whatever bootleg fragrance he wears does not match his pH! How far away were you from that imbecile to draw that conclusion?!" Romeo shouts indignantly.

You're no longer able to keep up the act, your lips peeling into a full on grin as a giggle escapes you.

This only seems to irritate Romeo further. "And what's so funny?!"

"I was only teasing you. I've never been close enough to smell him. Definitely not close enough to see his pores."

"Y-You...!" Romeo's face flushes in a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "For what purpose, fool?!"

"You look cute when you're all mad," You say like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Sorry, Boss. You make it too easy."

"Do you know how much my collagen cream costs? If you expedite the rate in which I obtain wrinkles, you will be my servant until the day you die to pay me back!" Romeo growls.

"How scary," You tease, tearing your gaze from the man shouting at such close proximity. If he stays like that any longer while you face him, you may actually start blushing. Reaching forward, you set the portable computer back in your lap.

"Fucking right, it's scary! I'll make sure your income is so low that you'll be taking residence in my private office," Romeo huffs, finally sitting back as he was before. 

You snort. "Are you going to make me stay in my underwear too, like you did with Kaito?" 

"You'll be lucky if you are even granted that amount of decency," Romeo spats. 

Heat crawls up your neck at the implication. 

"...Wow. Pervert." You're barely able to say it without your voice nervously cracking.

"Tch...! Don't flatter yourself," Romeo counters. A vibration, followed by a ringing sound emanates from his dress pants. The vice-captain stands, pulling his cell phone out. Before he answers it, he shoots you a glare. "You're in need of some serious TLC in order for that to be any concern of yours."

"Oh? That's okay, you're not my type anyway," You lie, as you return your attention to the email in front of you. 

"Excuse me...?!" Romeo flits his furious gaze from you then back to the phone. "This conversation isn't over! Just you wait…!" The Sinostra vice-captain drags a finger across his phone's screen, then brings it to his ear. As if the caller on the other end is physically present, Romeo relaxes his face with his tone before replying. "Hello...? Right, when…?" 

The vice-captain paces around the room mumbling vague replies to the mystery receiver. After a minute or so, he hangs up and stalks back in your direction. 

You pretend you don't notice him as you continue working, anticipating verbal outlash. Instead, you feel a weight sit alarmingly close to your side. Your hand stills on the track pad in front of you when Romeo wraps an arm around your backside. 

"(Y/N)~" The vice-captain speaks so close to your ear that involuntary chills run up your spine. 

You weren't that startled by the gesture. Romeo did this occasionally when he wanted something. Trying to act all sultry to fluster you to the point of accepting his request. That was further confirmed by the rare use of your actual name rather than an acronym disguising an insult.

Usually, you would do whatever he wanted anyway as long as it wasn't too out of your comfort zone. Any time that you'd decline he'd have a fit about it and ignore you for a while after. 

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to ask me to do something ridiculous?" You ask with a sigh. 

"Oh, it's nothing too crazy. But do you think you could get a permit and make a delivery for me outside campus, pretty girl? I know you have enough rapport with the Chancellor to do it by now," Romeo drawls, tucking stray hairs behind your ear. 

"What are you trying to get me to deliver? And where?" You ask, flicking your gaze to his suspiciously.

"It's not important, I will give you the address. All you have to do is drop it off in a mailbox. It's not too far from the station," Romeo explains coolly, his minty breath tickling your nose. 

"Hmm..." You hum contemplatively, turning your head back to the laptop. "I dunno... sounds kinda sus. I don't want to lose my honor student privileges, you know?" 

"...There is nothing sus about it! And you won't. Just say you want to make a delivery to a friend." The demanding impatience in Romeo's tone is already starting to rear its head as you continue to question him.

"I dunno. What's in it for me?" You persist nonchalantly. 

"Continued employment and my approval, obviously! What more could you want?" Romeo argues.

You weren't stupid. He was probably fully intending on sending you off with illegal substances. It would be easy to do it and not get caught, but it's not like you were gung-ho about making runs like that. And it's not like Romeo could do it himself with Sinostra's suspension. What could you request in return that he would be deterred from ever asking you again?

"I might consider it if you do something for me," You reply as another impish grin threatens to peel back. 

Romeo clicks his tongue impatiently. "Asking me for favors now? What could you possibly want?"

"Kiss me," You request, making a point to sound as deadpan as possible. 

The room becomes uncannily still for several moments once the words fall from your mouth.

You smirk, taking your time before you look back at Romeo to assess the damage. The Sinostra vice-captain is boring a hole through you with his eyebrows furrowed. You watch his smooth lips part marginally, as if something is just on the tip of his tongue. 

It's almost hilarious. The way that he just came onto you with the intention of coaxing you to do his bidding, but when the tables are turned he's at a loss for words. You let out a short laugh, deeming this to be your victory as you refocus your attention on the laptop in front of you yet again. "Looks like my hands are tied, Vice-Captain. Maybe you can blackmail Kaito into doing it."

Romeo clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Imbecile, did I say no?"

Well, you can't say you were expecting that. 

You laugh awkwardly, looking at him like he just lost his mind. "What, you're going to agree just like that?"

Romeo nods. "If you wash your face and do a proper skin care routine beforehand. And make sure your mouth is entirely scrubbed clean, if I taste anything foul on your lips, so help me god...!"

"Woah, woah, woah...! I didn't say anything about the lips," You reply, your voice slightly panicked. "Also, you gotta kiss my face as is. It's part of the stipulation. And I haven't washed it in, like, five days. I probably got blackheads galore. You seriously wanna go through with that?"

You had washed your face and put on products previously recommended to you by Romeo this morning. The more affordable ones, anyway. Not that he needed to know that. 

Romeo squints his eyes as he closes in on you, stopping just inches from your face. "You're lying. Why? I don't have time for these games."

How did he immediately call on your bluff?

When you struggle to formulate an excuse, Romeo leans forward, cupping his gloved hand on your chin. You don't have time to react before he presses his plush lips against your cheek. The vice-captain stays that way for a second too long, the kiss past the point of being chaste. When Romeo pulls back, he's quirking a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you. 

"I'd recognize that scent anywhere. Did you put on Tatcha cream this morning?"

You can feel heat gather at the apples of your cheeks as you gawk at him wordlessly. 

"I suppose you're not entirely hopeless after all." Romeo smirks approvingly as he gives you the backhanded compliment. 

"Shit," You mutter, sighing in defeat.

"Looks like you will be my delivery girl. Don't fuck it up, BB," Romeo says derisively, before getting to his feet and walking off to retrieve the parcel. 

--

Days pass after you begrudgingly follow through with the delivery without anything particularly eventful happening. Currently, you're seated at a bench in the courtyard just outside of campus helping Kaito prepare for an upcoming test in a class you both had. Your phone has been vibrating in your pocket for a hot minute, but you're so determined with focusing on helping Kaito, you ignore it for the time being.

"Jesus effing Christ! I don't get this shit at all, I'm totally gonna bomb this," Kaito whines. The Frostheim student has his fingers wound in his hair as if he's ready to yank it out in clumps. 

"If you hold that attitude the entire time, you just might. A lot of this test is going to be memorization. If anything, I can whip up some flash cards really quick for you," You offer, shooting him a sympathetic glance. 

"Hah... y-you'd really do that? You're seriously an angel." Kaito's voice cracks and he dramatically begins to sprout tears from the corners of his eyes. 

"Pffft, it's nothing. If anything, I still owe you for helping me out so much when I first got here." You pull out a stack of blank index cards from your messenger bag and peer over at the highlighted material in the notepad settled in Kaito's lap. 

Picking up a pen, you begin scribbling the most important bits on the cards that you presume will be on the test. It takes you around ten minutes, but when you finish you hand the stack over to the Frostheim student. 

"Just study it before bed for at least twenty minutes every night until the exam. That's what I always do when I don't retain enough," You remark with a reassuring smile. "Easy peasy."

"T-Thanks so much, (Y/N)." Kaito looks at you with a melting expression, his lower lip puckered into a pout. "I'll get a permit and take you out to my favorite ramen place if I pass this thing, for real."

"Oh? I'll hold you to that," You quip, smirking at him.

Kaito holds out his pinky, nodding fervently. "Pinky swear! It'll be super fun."

You latch your own finger with his. "I bet. I've been craving those marinated eggs lately. It's like you read my mind. Maybe we could bring Lucas, too?"

"Uh... m-maybe. Or it could be..." Kaito giggles nervously, scratching his blonde mop. "Like a d-d-date...?"

"A date...?" You tilt your head, eyeing your friend curiously. 

Before Kaito can present his case, a black gloved hand swats his out of yours in the blink of an eye. 

"A date?! Don't make me laugh, leech! If you don't pay EPB you will be lucky to be still breathing come the day of your exams!"

"GYAAAAH...!" Kaito stumbles back from his seat, landing butt first on the stone ground. "W-What the hell are y-you doing here...?! And how long were you listening?!"

Romeo places a hand on his lip, glowering at Kaito with disdain. "Long enough." The vice-captain briskly snaps his head in your direction. "And just how long did you think you would continue getting away with ignoring me, BB? While fraternizing with this fool who owes me money? You want to take permanent residence in my private office that badly?"

You blink at Romeo owlishly. "Huh? Ignoring you? Since when?" Then it dawns on you. Your phone was vibrating in your pocket like crazy earlier. 

"Don't play dumb! I know your phone is on you!" Romeo yells, jabbing an accusing finger in your direction.

You snort at that. "How do you know that? Maybe I left it at my dorm."

"Are you so daft that you think I'd let my assistant frolic around OTG?"

You avert your gaze upwards, pondering what the acronym could possibly mean. "...Alright, you lost me. OTG?"

"Off. The. Grid...!" Romeo retorts, enunciating each word with biting emphasis. 

You stare at his sour face blankly for a few seconds as you belatedly digest the implication. Scratching your cheek, you quirk an eyebrow at him. "Don't tell me you're tracking me, Boss?"

"Of course I am!" Romeo admits shamelessly. "And don't even think about finding the application and removing it! I made sure that your access is restricted from such tampering!"

You sigh, not particularly perturbed or surprised by the revelation. "You're a real weirdo, you know that? If this were a legitimate job with human resources I could totally report you if I wanted."

"S-Since when did you start working for this nut job?!" Kaito asks, now scrambling to his feet. "Jesus Christ, just work at the campus!"

Romeo glares daggers at the blonde. "Unless you'd like to spend the night being hung up by your toes, I suggest you make yourself scarce! And I expect a money order by 12pm sharp tomorrow, or I will be making an appearance at your dormitory."

"Urk...! F-Fine...!" Kaito hastily grabs his messenger bag from the bench. "I'll see you later (Y/N)! Text me...!" The blonde flicks a wary glance in Romeo's direction before scampering off.

"Now that the fool has left, you are coming with me, BB! I have a job for you. And turn your audio notifications on for my number, FFS!" Romeo orders.

You roll your eyes before getting to your feet. "Fine, fine, I hear ya." 

--

After announcing that Romeo had your location tracked, you swore that you had begun to notice that he was making more frequent appearances where you didn't usually see him. When you went to eat at the weird diner Ren works at with Lucas, Romeo showed up in the middle of your meal, requesting you return to Sinostra as soon as possible. A day later you saw him on the main campus in the second year wing of the building to fetch you after class. Another day, you went to help Alan with some paperwork and the Sinostra vice-captain was there, too. Romeo had claimed that he was just there to speak with Leo, but then insisted that you come with him once you had finished up, anyway. 

It's not like you had a set schedule to work. Sometimes you wouldn't help him for a day or two in the event that Darkwick needed something that took priority. Who knows? Maybe it really was all a coincidence. 

You sat in the VIP room again, a few of Romeo's goons were talking amongst themselves across the room, while you were waiting for whatever task the vice-captain had planned for you that evening. Romeo had texted you earlier in the day, and he had made it seem as if it were something urgent. 

Eventually, the double doors burst open and Romeo made a beeline for you. 

You lift your eyes to meet the Sinostra vice-captain's as he approaches, stopping to a halt right in front of you. “Heya, Boss,” You smirk up at him. “What's good?”

“(Y/N),” Romeo starts, his voice as sweet as molasses. The vice-captain is looking down at you with a jovial smile. ”Just In time~”

“Ugh…” Your expression falters to a tired one in an instant. Standing up, you make an attempt to slide out from in front of him. “Just realized, Cornelius asked me to do some stuff at Frostheim, so if you'll excuse me–”

Romeo holds your waist firmly in place, narrowing his eyes sharply at you. “The Chancellor sent you no such notification. I should know.”

“C'mon now you're hacking into my phone to read my messages?” You ask in disbelief, irritation rising in your voice. “I'm starting to think you're in love with me.” 

“Idiot! Now you're just blowing smoke up your ass! I have my reasons,” Romeo counters vaguely. The vice-captain is close enough that you can smell every fragrant product he had on today.

You click your tongue, sitting back down with your arms folded over your chest. Debating with Romeo was like talking to a brick wall, so you weren't about to waste your breath. “Fine, what do you need?”

Romeo turns his head to the group of his lackeys behind him. “Fools! You better have that box with you.”

“Sorry, right here, Boss!” One of the students hurried over to Romeo's side, handing said box over to him. 

Romeo takes it, then tosses it in your lap. It's not that heavy and it has a white lid. “Here! This will be my gift to you, should you do what I ask.”

You eye him skeptically, to which he nods. Despite the usage of the word gift, knowing him, there was a pretty big catch. Hesitantly, you reach out and lift the lid in front of you. 

The scarlet fabric immediately catches your eye. Silk? 

You lift the item out of its box, extending the piece of clothing enough to where you can really judge what you're looking at. It looks to be some type of halter neck evening gown. Formal, yet not too formal. The way the fabric feels against your fingertips tells you that this is worth several months' pay at least. Just beneath the dress is a set of accenting jewelry at the bottom of the box. You don't know enough about that kind of thing to even begin to guess it's worth.

“...What the hell is this?” You ask, completely bewildered. 

“A dress, obviously. Do you have eyes?” Romeo snaps.

“Okay, but why?”

Romeo exhales, steeling himself like he's about to make a sales pitch. “...Tonight I have a guest. A former colleague of mine, for lack of a better word. I have a list of tables I need you to lead him to and goad him into playing. The fool likes to bid high.”

“And I gotta wear this to do it?” You prod, creasing your eyebrows. 

“That GFNS has a type and if I work my magic, you will fit that,” Romeo explains, placing a hand on his hip.

“You can't seriously expect me to flirt with some rando. And what, are you gonna cheat him out of money? I thought you were against that!” You argue. 

Romeo clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “You don't need to seduce him, just act as you normally do. Pretend you recognize him. The idiot has a meager amount of fame in the outside world, so it won't be odd. As for cheating him– the piece of shit deserves it. He did the same to me and still believes I am unaware. It's a wonder I haven't killed him already.”

You pause, taking a moment to process everything. “How the hell am I supposed to convince him to follow me around?”

“Start by offering him a drink, and tell him you're my cousin. I will provide you with a list of what to do from there. The majority of men are simple meatheads,” Romeo states matter-of-factly. “Throw a pretty woman in front of them and they will fold like a deck of cards.” 

You roll your eyes. “So now I'm pretty? What happened to ‘basic bitch’?” 

“...You're not repulsive,” Romeo admits, averting his gaze. 

“Such a charmer,” You say sarcastically.

“So, will you do it?”

It didn't sound like the most fun task in the world, but if you weren't pressured into behaving a certain way, it really wouldn't be so bad. Plus, you kind of want to have Romeo doll you up. The vice-captain has referenced it enough in passing, but had yet to follow through.

“I really don't have to hit on him?” You reiterate. 

“Be friendly, that's it,” Romeo insists. 

“Do I get another kiss for this?” You joke, wiggling your eyebrows.

Romeo's flicks his gaze over you fully, as if he's genuinely considering your question. “...Ask me again when you clean up.”

You nearly choke on air at his nonchalant reply.

“Joke! That was a joke!” You insist with a nervous laugh, waving your hands wildly in protest. “My next kiss, face or otherwise, will be reserved for my future partner!”

Romeo's lips pull slightly downward and his expression wavers like he has more commentary to throw back at you. Instead, the vice-captain pushes out an exasperated sigh as he turns on his heel and waves you off dismissively. “Go and put that on. Don't keep me waiting.” 

“Okie dokie. You got it, Boss.”

When Romeo handed you a mirror after he applied makeup on you and styled your hair, you almost didn't recognize yourself. It's not as if you hadn't dressed up before, but it never came out quite this well. As it turns out, the vice-captain wasn't all talk with his stylistic choices. 

You were thoroughly impressed. Romeo had also brought shoes to you before he had gotten started on your makeup, that matched the dress and accessories. Everything fit perfectly, too. Which, you did wonder how that was possible without Romeo somehow invading your privacy again. You didn't bother touching on that subject. 

“Woah, you really know your stuff,” You compliment Romeo, as you admire the rouge lip color he had applied to your face. It complimented the dress perfectly. 

“I am offended that you ever doubted me,” Romeo retorts. He's sitting on a stool in front of you and the couch in the VIP lounge. “I have a feeling this will go according to plan. Just look over your notes beforehand, got it?” 

You nod, lowering the mirror onto the table in front of you. “By the way, is this guy really going to make up what it cost to get me this stuff? This looks crazy expensive.”

“Of course,” Romeo insists, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You think I intend to support a charity case? As long as you do what I say, this will be a miniscule dent in the return.”

“That's good at least. I almost started to feel bad.” You stand up, with the intention of getting the ball rolling. 

“Hold on,” Romeo stands with you, pulling a golden vial out of the pouch of makeup that rests on the table. The vice-captain opens it, a strong, but inviting fragrance permeates your immediate surroundings. Leaning in close, Romeo dabs some of the liquid from the wand that's attached to the lid onto your neck. 

“Oh, that smells nice…” You murmur, pretending like the close proximity of your gorgeous tyrant of a boss isn't making your heart beat rapidly. 

“As it should. It's of high quality.” Romeo brings a pale hand to your neck, spreading the oil-like perfume across the expanse of your neck gently with his fingertips. 

The Sinostra vice-captain's expression is completely unreadable at the moment. And for reasons unbeknownst to you– you struggle to take your eyes off of him. Maybe it's because he looks more peaceful than usual? If you had to guess, this kind of thing might be fun for him. 

“Thank you,” You say impulsively, beaming at him. 

Romeo removes his fingers from your neck, flitting his gaze to meet yours. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?” 

“I dunno, this is kind of fun. I think it's better than you making me go on a drug deal,” You tease. 

“I never admitted to making you do anything of the sort,” Romeo counters. 

“Never admitted,” You emphasize with a coy smirk. “Even if you're doing this for your own agenda, I still appreciate your creative efforts. So, thanks.”

Romeo stares at you with an indiscernible  expression for a few beats, his face alarmingly close to yours. It feels strange. Since when was he so comfortable being this close without reason? Especially when he's not visibly pissed about something.

“...Thank me by doing your job correctly,” He finally says. 

Romeo increases the distance between the two of you, placing the now closed vial of perfume back where he got it. “Now scram. I have things to do.”

It feels like you can finally breathe. What is this strange feeling?

“Yeah, sure thing…”

The guest Romeo had told you to tag along with was turning out to be a seemingly decent guy. He had dark hair and was handsome enough, but compared to the ghouls at Darkwick, he didn't particularly stand out. Based on the information Romeo wrote down for you, he is well known on social media for creating and promoting a pretty successful clothing line. His actual name was lost on you, but Romeo just told you to refer to him as Zomo. You weren't sure if it was a public nickname for him, or one given to him by the vice-captain himself. 

Everything Romeo had told you to do had seemingly worked. The influencer initially had been confused by you approaching him, until you labeled yourself as Romeo's close cousin. From there it was relatively easy to converse with him. You showed him around and you didn't have to try very hard to get him to participate at the table games. The first table the list told you to take him to was a game of roulette. And you couldn't help but notice a familiar red-headed captain seated at the gaming table. 

You knew basic casino etiquette, courtesy of Romeo. Since you didn't intend on playing, you observed from behind Zomo's chair. 

“Say… don't I know ya from somewhere, Kitty?”

You glance over at Taiga. He's leaning on the table in a languid posture, his head resting on his fist. The Sinostra Captain is smirking at you impishly. 

“Yeah. Don't you remember? It's me, John Titor,” You joke, though you intentionally keep your expression serious for the bit. 

“...That what it was?” The smile never leaves Taiga's face as he stares at you, likely trying to figure out if it's actually the truth. After a long pause, he starts laughing. “...Gyahaha! Ya don't seem like a John. Feel like ya gotta have a beard for that one!”

Romeo's guest looks between the two of you skeptically. You wonder if he knows Taiga already. If not, you could only imagine the confusion, especially considering you introduced yourself with your real name. 

“I'll just call ya Johnny for now, how ‘bout it?” Taiga holds a fist out to you, like he intends to hand you something. Curious, you reach your palm out to him. 

Without warning, Taiga slaps several orange chips directly into your hand. A familiar tingling sensation lingers on your palm at the contact. You blink, meeting Taiga's gaze dubiously.

Was it part of Romeo's plan for Taiga to use his stigma, then? Guess it only makes sense if they're trying to screw this guy.

Taiga grins at you wolfishly for a moment before pulling back and leaning onto the table again. “Get me a drink will ya? Think I'm in the mood for an Old Fashioned.”

“...Sure,” You say. Looking down at the Zomo guy, you speak up again. “Want anything?”

“Same thing, thanks,” He replies.

Hours went by of spectating as Romeo's guest fails each and every one of the games he participates in. A constant throughout the evening was Taiga making an appearance at every table that you influenced Zomo to play at. If you had any doubt that Romeo and the Sinostra Captain had collaborated in the scheme together, that was long gone. 

Throughout it all, Zomo continued requesting drinks, and you retrieved them every time he asked. He was either so trashed that he didn't realize how much money he lost, or he just didn't care. By the time you reached the finale of the last game on your list, Zomo was completely out of chips. 

“Damn… lost again, eh? That's embarrassing.” Romeo's guest lethargically scratches his head at the Baccarat table. The rest of the players had already made themselves scarce, leaving the two of you alone for the moment. Aside from the dealer who was busying himself in idle chatter with another casino employee.

“Oof, damn!” You say, doing your best to feign shock for the umpteenth time. “That sucks, buddy. Maybe next time?”

“Buddy…?” Zomo repeats, his brow creased. You hear him curse under his breath. And only seconds after that, you feel a hand grip your wrist and yank you forward. 

“Woah…!” You trip over your feet and nearly butt heads with the man seated at the table. Zomo stretches a hand out, stilling your shoulder in time with his free hand. 

“Here I thought you were gonna cozy up with me for the night. Turns out you're just a fuckin’ tease, eh?”

Oops, looks like you made the wrong dialogue choice. Creeper alert!

You attempt to yank your hand back, but the man's grip is firm. Zomo's face is just inches from yours, and his breath reeks of brown liquor. Taking a deep breath, you narrow your eyes at him. “Let me go, fuck face.”

“Don't think I'm gonna do that,” He says, his voice slurring over his words.

“Dude, seriously!” You growl, moving your other hand forward to attempt to peel the man's fingers off. 

The sound of a gun bolt sliding back and locking into place sounds from your right. 

You glance up. The Sinostra vice-captain is training a rifle less than a foot from the man's head. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his finger linger dangerously close to the trigger. “W-Wait Romeo, don't–”

“Get the fuck out,” Romeo seethes, his words come out far more venomous than you ever thought possible. “Unless you'd like me to contact Darkwick's medical facility to relay details for your death certificate.”

“W-Woah, chill man…! I w-wasn't gonna do anything,” Zomo sputters out as he releases your wrist to hold his hands up in surrender. 

“Not only are you a thieving weasel, you're lying through your teeth,” Romeo balances the butt of the rifle against his shoulder, using his free hand to wave over a member of security. “Escort this BFL out.”

The security member quickly makes his way over to grab Zomo's shoulder and carries out Romeo's orders. The vice-captain's old acquaintance doesn't make a fuss as he's led towards the door. If he did, you may actually think he's insane. You wouldn't put it past Romeo to actually pull the trigger. The Sinostra vice-captain had shot at Ritsu before, after all. 

Romeo lowers his gun once Zomo's out of sight, and turns his head to look at you, his gaze cold. “VIP room, now.”

“Uh, sure.”

You follow Romeo back to the room you can never seem to stay out of nowadays. The vice-captain says nothing the entire walk there. It was a little unsettling not hearing him rant angrily about one thing or another. You weren't sure what to expect when you watched Romeo close the massive double doors behind the two of you. A distinct clicking noise makes you double take in his direction. 

Did he just lock the door?

A brief surveillance of the room tells you that you're the only two people inside. 

“Sit,” Romeo demands, waving in the general direction of the sofa. The vice-captain doesn't wait for you to reply before he stalks off towards the back of the room with his rifle, presumably to stow it away. 

You make your way over to the sofa, plopping down. Deciding it's been weirdly awkward for long enough, you speak up. “You're being quiet. Are you mad?”

You hear something click shut from behind you, and a few moments later Romeo walks back into view. The vice-captain makes his way over to you, taking a seat relatively close to you. He looks at you with a hard gaze.

“Would it kill you to take my word and just follow the script I gave you, moron?” Romeo finally reprimands. Though, he sounds almost nice compared to how he usually berates.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that ‘buddy’ would set that weirdo off?” You argue. “You really know some odd people.”

“...You should be grateful I was using the EITS to watch over you,” Romeo spats, his arms folded over his chest. 

“It's okay, I would have karate chopped him,” You insist, holding your arms out in a playful representation of what you imagine a proper karate pose would look like. 

“Don't make me laugh,” Romeo starts, though the agitation in his tone tells you he's not actually in a laughing kind of mood. “You couldn't even peel that pig's fingers off of you!”

You pivot your body to face him, leaning your cheek on the back of the couch. “You worried about little old me?”

“Worried…?” Romeo repeats, his intense gaze burning a hole through you. “The only one who should be worried is that weasel. So long as you are in my LOS, no one will touch you.”

You feel your cheeks burn at Romeo's words. “Uhm… line of sight?”

“Obviously.”

“Geez. Can’t tell if you sound delusional, or romantic,” You mutter, averting your gaze to a random spot on the couch. 

Romeo scoffs. “I said it exactly as I meant it. Attributing further sentiment is a waste of time.”

You laugh a bit, in spite of yourself. “Yeah, don't I know it. I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry Boss.”

“You should be. Now make up for it by canceling your extracurricular plans this week to work for me.” Romeo's lips peel into a devilish grin as he makes the absurd request. 

“That hardly seems like a fair shake,” You say with a snort. “What are you gonna do when I'm not around one day?”

Romeo's expression slips into a puzzled one. “What do you mean?”

“Well, one day I'm gonna return home if I break my curse. I doubt Darwick intends on giving me permanent residence here. I'll have to help you find someone to replace me when that happens,” You explain, flashing him a bittersweet smile. “You forget?”

Romeo frowns, eyeing you dubiously. “I don't plan on forking my assistant over so easily.”

“I didn't realize that you had any real say in it,” You tease. “Are you going to convince Hyde that I will be a valuable asset for the foreseeable future?”

“If that's what it comes to. That DOF owes me anyhow, always nagging at the most inconvenient of times!” Romeo pauses, holding your gaze. “...Don't tell me you actually have been looking forward to going back to your mundane life?”

Did you? 

Maybe in some ways. Though, Darkwick and the people in it have become your second home. Initially it wasn't a choice, but for the moment you wouldn't trade it away. Not yet. 

“...There are things I miss. People,” You admit, doing your best not to sound like a sad sack. 

“Like who?” Romeo persists, the frustrated look on his face not budging.

“Family and friends,” You reply vaguely. “I miss the normalcy sometimes. The routine, being able to put time into things that aren't important, and going out when I want with whoever.”

Romeo clicks his tongue irritably. “...What a stupid sentiment. You can basically have all that here. Why not just stay here and visit there?”

You snicker at his persistence. This might be the most interest that the Sinostra vice-captain ever showed in how you feel. Though, the bar is still low considering he's using that information to try and manipulate your actions.

“Why not just visit me if I can't stay here?” You counter. 

“I have far more important things to do.” 

You sigh, feigning a wistful expression. “Well, that's alright. I guess I'll just invite Kaito over.”

“What…?” Romeo sits forward, his fuchsia eyes glaring daggers at you. “You intend to let that blubbering fool into your home alone?!”

“Sure, why not?” You ask, your lips curling into a coy smirk.

“That leech still owes me money! If he's around you with that much freedom the hormonal fool will spend my cash impulsively,” Romeo explains.

“Oh, right…” You mumble, wearing a pensive expression. “...Then I guess Alan could visit.”

“That behemoth will cause a mess bumbling around in your dinky home,” Romeo argues.

“Hm… Towa, surely.”

“Have you lost your mind? Do you have flood insurance?!”

“Okay, Boss. Tell me– who is suitable for me to invite into my home?” You ask, stifling a laugh. 

“No one,” Romeo answers with conviction. “So stop considering it, BB.”

You sigh. “You know this ongoing territorial Boss bit is totally gonna scare away any potential love interests for me in the future.” 

“Good,” Romeo remarks impassively, narrowing his eyes at you. “Let there be no other distractions.”

“That's totally not fair. Unless you're planning on doing the charity work of being my boyfriend, I think I'll pass,” You retort, puffing your cheeks. “As a hopeless romantic, there's some things I won't sacrifice.”

“I will do it,” Romeo declares pointedly. 

Your eyes widen and you lift your head from the back cushion of the couch, gawking in disbelief. “...What?”

The vice-captain's expression is serious. Romeo's words are not to be taken lightly. 

“I said I'll do it, idiot,” Romeo insists. “But I will write up a list of guidelines you must follow consistently in regards to hygiene and skin care routines. And for outings together you will not give me any push back when I select your outfits, or how I choose to style your hair. And you must be prompt when I invite you out, no excuses.”

You gape at him in shock. “...You're serious?”

“Does it seem like I'm joking, nitwit?” Romeo snaps. 

“Okay… what about, uh…” Your cheeks turn bright red, you can just feel it. “Intimacy? Physical touch? Is that really something you'd be open to…?”

“So long as you're not filthy, I will accomodate,” Romeo answers, like it's the simplest question in the world. 

“Er… But is that something you want or just something you'd be willing to do just to keep me here?” You prod, brows tented. 

Romeo gives you a prickly stare. “Obviously, my intention is to keep you here.”

Ouch. 

There's a couple ways you could interpret that, if you think hard enough about it. But since it wasn't the answer you were looking for, it was difficult to not take personal. You weren't particularly interested in trading intimacy with someone who just wanted you around for business purposes. Even if it seemed like it could be fun, it would inevitably be a disaster in the long run. But it was Romeo, what did you expect?

Shifting your gaze off to the side, you speak in a near whisper “...I'm sorry, that's not really something I'm interested in. I'm gonna have to pass on this one. I like you and all, but I think this is seriously gonna blow if I get attached to you romantically, ya know?”

Romeo stares at you pensively. Even as you shoot up from your seat seconds later. 

“I'm gonna head home now!” You announce, somehow managing to keep your voice steady. “You can call me whenever you need me in the morning though, since there's no classes tomorrow.”

Just as you wave Romeo off and turn heel, an arm snakes around your waist, pulling you backwards.

“W-Woah…!”

In the blink of an eye, you're sitting back on the couch, with your thighs overlapping Romeo's. The Sinostra vice-captain is gripping one of your wrists and his left arm is looped around your backside.

You stare up at him in surprise, and he's glaring daggers back at you. His pretty lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I cannot believe you have the audacity to reject me,” Romeo says, his jaw clenched as if he's struggling to maintain his composure. 

“Hey, reject?” You echo, your eyes wide like saucers. “T-That's not my intention.”

The vice-captain's eye twitches in vexation. “Not your intention? How else could I possibly interpret that?! Do you have any idea how lucky you should feel that the thought even crossed my mind, THD?”

“I do feel lucky,” You argue, your brow creasing. “I-I just don't think the way we feel about each other is the same.”

“If that's the case or not, what difference does it make? There is no one better suited for you, I can assure you that,” Romeo asserts. 

Heat rises to your cheeks at the bold statement. You open your mouth, but find yourself grappling with your brain and heart to the point where nothing slips out. 

“Is there someone else? Is that what this is about? One of the fools you rattled off earlier? Do tell me their name,” Romeo rants. Despite the vice-captain's voice not being as elevated as it usually is, his expression isn't any less venomous. “If you try to weasel your way out of it, I will find out eventually.”

“No…!” You nearly shout in disbelief. “C'mon, you're being completely unreasonable! How would there be? I'm with you during most of my free time!”

Romeo lifts a skeptical eyebrow. “On four separate occasions this week, you were spending time with other ghouls. And I've seen the way those Frostheim fools look at you!”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, Romeo it's not like that…!”

“Don't! Don't call me that…!” The vice-captain tears his gaze from yours, his eyes settling somewhere on your lap. “...Take some responsibility, BB! You're the one that started this shit with that idiotic kiss nonsense!”

Huh…?

“That's what this is about…?” You ask, your jaw slack as you stare at Romeo's conflicted expression.

As far as you could tell, the Sinostra vice-captain had been completely flippant about the interaction. Was that really the catalyst for his possessive behavior? Your attempt to mess with him?

“It infuriates me,” Romeo starts, his posture tense. “You had remnants of sweat on your face, and you looked as if you just rolled out of bed, putting no thought into your appearance whatsoever. Other than that moisturizer, there was no fragrance lingering on you.”

You give Romeo a tired look, wondering where he could possibly be going with this. 

“...It infuriates me that I didn't hate it,” Romeo admits, his grip on your wrist tightening marginally as the confession leaves his mouth.

Oh…

“...You mean you like the way my natural skin smells?” You ask, eyeing the vice-captain curiously. 

“Must I repeat myself in another language, fool?” Romeo snaps, his steely eyes darting up at you. 

It wasn't that unusual to like the smell of someone's natural oils. But you suppose for someone as finicky about scents and hygiene as Romeo could be, it was probably pretty important to him. 

A giggle slips past your lips involuntarily.

“And what about this is so funny…?!” Romeo snaps. 

You smile at him, finding the beautiful ghoul in front of you particularly endearing right now. “That's just the best compliment I think I may ever receive from you. And it's super common. Science might say that it means you're attracted to my pheromones. You're so cute.”

“Cute?” Romeo repeats, looking at you like you've lost your mind. “I have been reduced to falling prey to primitive behavior that does nothing to serve me! There's nothing ‘cute’ about this, FFS!”

So, Romeo likes your smell so much that it's been making him act like a possessive basket case all week? That explanation didn't entirely track.

“Do you like me, Boss?” You ask, sporting a lopsided smile. 

“Like? Who fucking knows,” Romeo grumbles, leaning back into the couch as his grip falls from your wrist. 

“Well…” You look down at your legs that were still on top of his. “I gotta say, I don't think I would have ever thought you'd let me be on you like this. You want me to move?”

Romeo doesn't give you a verbal reply, but the arm around your waist stiffens. 

“No, then?” You prod.

“You're not leaving. Not like that. Not now,” Romeo decides. The vice-captain looks at you like he's daring you to go against his orders.

“I won't go if you don't want me to,” You reassure.

Romeo must believe you because his arm relaxes slightly. 

“...Hey,” You start. “If you're not sure how you feel, can I try something? Maybe it will help you determine your feelings. And then we can discuss the whole dating thing again.”

“...Try what?” Romeo asks, raising an eyebrow. 

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for a potential adverse reaction. “Okay, here me out. And feel free to throw me off for my brazen stupidity if you're against it…”

“Spit it out, idiot.” 

“Okay, okay. Can I kiss you…?” You blurt out, wincing preemptively.

Romeo stares at you with an unreadable gaze, and your stomach flips with anticipation.

“...Fine.”

“Oh, for real?” 

“Do it before I change my mind, BB,” Romeo demands. 

“Oh, yes. Of course. So, uh… like before?” You meant the cheek kiss. Hopefully the vice-captain would catch on to save you the embarrassment of explaining.

Romeo clicks his tongue. “Do I have to hold your hand through everything? Just do it.”

Okay, cheek kiss to be safe. That shouldn't be too intimidating. You've kissed your friends and family members cheeks, nothing but a cinch!

You sit up and inch your face closer towards Romeo's. It doesn't help your nerves that he's staring at you expectantly. Has this guy ever been on the receiving end of a kiss before? Couldn't he at least close his staggeringly pretty eyes so your heart would stop pounding against your chest like a jackhammer?

Knowing how bothered Romeo would be if you chickened out now helps you regain your composure. You shut your eyes and close the distance, pressing your lips against his devastatingly plush cheek. After an appropriate length of time, you pull back and assess the damage. 

Romeo shoots you an unimpressed look. “What? That's it?”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously, an awkward laugh spilling from your mouth. “Uh… what, you want me to do it again?”

“Yes! Would you like me to write it in crayon?” Romeo snaps, the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks. 

“Okay, okay!” You impulsively reach for Romeo's gloved hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

The vice-captain shows no sign of protest at the gesture, so you proceed with the second kiss, this time landing your lips closer to his temple. 

By the time you pull back, Romeo looks nothing short of impatient. “Are you so caught up in the role you played earlier that you forgot we aren't actually related? Is this supposed to entice me?”

You puff your cheeks, your face burning from his criticism. “You're such a turd! You really want me to kiss you for real?”

That's the only conclusion you could draw from the vice-captain's words. If your lips were even slightly chapped, or breath even a little off there would surely be hell to pay. You don't recall eating anything sinister. 

You don't have time to make any further advances, nor does he grant you the courtesy of a verbal reply. The arm around your waist effortlessly draws you closer, to where you're sitting fully on the vice-captain's lap. Romeo pulls his hand from your grip, drawing it towards your shoulder. 

You nearly gasp when you feel the wandering hand ghost over the expanse of your collar bone. “What are you–” 

“Quiet,” Romeo interjects softly. His fuchsia eyes rake over you in admiration as his fingertips travel upwards towards your neck. You feel his thumb gently brush against the length of your throat, eventually tickling your jawline. 

“Exactly as I pictured it,” Romeo murmurs vaguely. “...Don't wear this around anyone else.”

“...W-Well, to be fair I was already seen in this by countless people,” You argue, struggling to hold his gaze. If someone would have told you just hours before that the Sinostra vice-captain would be leering so suggestively at you right now, you'd surely laugh in their face. 

Just what did you do to catch the attention of the most self-assured and vain man you'd ever met in your life?

“A severe lapse in judgment on my part. Don't anticipate it happening again,” Romeo retorts bitterly. 

Without warning, the Sinostra vice-captain cups his hand against your neck and pulls you forward. Your eyes flutter shut unconsciously and the warmth of his lips reach yours. 

In spite of the intense nervousness you felt just moments prior, the kiss has you melting on impact. Maybe it's the way his touch is so characteristically deliberate, yet delicate at the same time. You knew his lips were soft, it's obvious at just a glance. But it was clear to you now that having them pressed against your own is far more satisfying than you could have ever imagined. 

You wrap your arms around Romeo's neck in your mindless search for a closer touch. A passing insecure thought that you're doing too much materializes, but is quickly quelled when you feel his lips part and reconnect with yours again. You feel a hand grip the side of your hip, his digits going in for a tight squeeze. Involuntarily, you whimper against Romeo's mouth.

The Sinostra vice-captain pulls back from the kiss, his face beautifully flushed. His right thumb strokes the contour of your jaw languidly as he surveys you with half-lidded eyes. “I've made up my mind.”

You feel completely malleable under his deceptively soft gaze. Drawing your arms back ever so slightly, you press him further. “...And?”

Romeo regards you voraciously, his lips curling into a smirk. “You're mine, (Y/N). It would be in your best interest to remember that.”

[funniestbitchinfaerun]

Tadfools + Pub Trivia Headcanons

Gale came here to prove he's the smartest man in the bar, and if the team doesn't place in the top three he'll sulk for a week. In charge of coming up with the funny team name (Trivial Fursuit, Risky Quizness, etc).

Astarion tries to seduce extra points out of the quiz master, which has actually sometimes worked. Knows a lot of facts about art and the legal system, as well as stuff you'd think only a serial killer would know.

Lae'zel is no longer allowed at trivia after punching the quizmaster, who laughed at her for putting "Vlaakith's Will" as the answer to "how is a supernova formed".

Shadowheart, despite her memory issues, has frequent flashes of "wait, how do I know this completely random fact?" Acts like she doesn't care about winning but secretly sulks when the team doesn't do well.

Karlach knows a ton of fun random stuff about local Baldur's Gate history, as well as Hell and sports. Unfortunately she has a tendency to get excited and yell out answers she's supposed to be writing down.

Wyll can identify any song in the music round, though he constantly has to be reminded not to sing the whole song and give away the answer. Befriends the bartender and usually scores a few free drinks.

Halsin obviously knows every single question about wildlife, gardening, and science, and as the only sober person on the team, usually keeps fistfights from breaking out. Sometimes brings the owlbear cub along to the bar.

Minthara thinks pub trivia is tacky and doesn't really want to be there, but won't turn down the chance to win a gift card. Knows a ton of random stuff, and will pick fights with the quizmaster if they mark her wrong.

Jaheira just came along to escape work + the kids and is barely aware trivia is happening. She's excellent at pop culture knowledge from when she was young, but hasn't been paying attention for ~50 years.

Minsc insists that Boo knows the answers to everything. This is only occasionally true. No one is sure if having a space hamster on the team counts as cheating.

[tobyisave]

Character analysis: Why does Kokichi lie?

I think lying is more than just a means to an end for Kokichi, so this is my personal understanding of Kokichi's habitual lying, centered on the headcanon that he experiences his own emotions very weakly.

In a vain attempt to make this post more streamlined, I've isolated most textual examples into footnotes at the bottom; probably only read them if you don’t buy what I’m saying in the sentence prior. Lastly, if you disagree with something I say here and choose to make it known: probably read the footnotes first, and regardless please just be nice about it :')

"If I wanna become closer to Shuichi, I probably shouldn't lie so much... But that's my shtick... or more like, my way of life..." (Kokichi's inner thoughts from Salmon Team)

Small lies vs Big lies

To start this off, I need to clarify that there's (at least) two very different kinds of Kokichi lies. First are the “big” lies, like being the mastermind or lies about the nature of DICE. Big lies are consistent, told with a “straight face,” and well thought-out, because they usually serve some kind of strategic purpose [e.g. footnote 1]. But those aren't the kind of lies I'm aiming to explain here, because they're already well discussed and follow a pretty understandable logic.

I'm focusing on what I call "small" or compulsive lies: trivial claims & performed emotions that are usually not believed for long, either because they’re too outlandish or because he or someone else disproves them. For example, sobbing that he hates coffee and then asking for a cup of coffee; or telling the seance participants he's "actually super duper strong," despite knowing full well they're about to watch him struggle to carry the iron cage [more ex. in note 2]. Most of Kokichi's lies fall into this category imo, especially in low-stakes environments like Salmon Team and UTDP. Unlike big lies, "small" lies are somewhat unique to Kokichi, he tells/performs them constantly regardless of context, and they don’t serve a very clear purpose.

Masking

I think Kokichi got very good at performing emotions from a young age in order to mask the fact that he doesn't experience empathy or other emotions very strongly. And maybe that sounds like a very specific headcanon, but just stick with me here... [and/or see note 3 for one line of evidence]. Failing to emote convincingly would’ve not only made it difficult to exist in everyday society, but it probably would’ve put an even bigger target on his back as a criminal, too… So yeah, he learned.

But as it turns out, spending an (admittedly very short) lifetime pretending to have emotions you don’t actually have is a fantastic way to:

Start feeling detached from the people around you,

Start seeing everyone else as suckers for buying it, and

Very quickly lose any moral qualms about lying — after all, people would attack him from every direction if he was honest about his feelings towards them (or lack thereof), so how is it fair that they want to punish him for lying, too? There’s just no winning!

My interpretation boils down to this: Kokichi lies compulsively because he is deeply bored, and the kick he gets out of deceiving people is one of the only things he finds consistently rewarding about talking to them. Most social interactions already feel like lies to him because he is constantly forced to mask, so he might as well tell fun lies about being a supervillain instead of boring, easy lies about wanting to be friends with everyone.

(Continued under the cut)

Not all lies are strategic

I think it's easy to assume at first that the only reason to lie is for some sort of material influence: changing others' behavior or hiding undesirable truths, either for your own selfish gain or the greater good. Definitely, there is a purpose like that for most of Kokichi's "big" lies, and even some of his "small" ones (e.g. the kind of short-lived lies both he and Shuichi tell in order to advance the Class Trials). But even in retrospect, not every lie he tells can be explained with an external motivation like that, selfish OR unselfish.

I think telling "small" lies is more of a habit for Kokichi than a strategic choice, something he can't quit even when it becomes an actively bad strategy (hence "compulsive"). But if you’re already with me on this, feel free to just skip to the next section :P

A. Small lies aren't meant to be believed.

I don't think Kokichi tells lies in order to actually mislead people most of the time — because if he wanted people to believe his small lies, then he wouldn't be constantly retracting them. Many (or even most) of his small lies are soon followed up with “It’s a lie!”, either literally or by demonstrating/implying that it’s untrue [e.g. note 2 again]. [For some possible exceptions to this rule, see note 4].

Fig 1: Kokichi struggling not to give himself away after Monotarou believes his outlandish lie (V3 manga anthology). While I think this instance is a bit exaggerated, it nicely draws attention to the fact that he enjoys revealing his own lies.

By Kokichi's own doing, there is often a net 0 change in what people believe by the time they reach the end of a conversation with him. E.g. Kaede doesn't walk away from their FTE thinking Kokichi is her long-lost companion, Shuichi doesn't walk away from Salmon Team thinking Kokichi is obsessed with dumpster diving, etc. This suggests that Kokichi's not trying to change the perceived truth, he's just interested in the momentary act of tricking people.

B. Kokichi doesn’t tell small lies to alter his social standing, for better OR for worse.

I think the first half of this is self evident — I mean, if he was trying to gain status, he's doing a terrible job! He is aware of what behavior is required to make people like you and listen to you, and he is patently not doing that. 

You might then argue that he’s doing the opposite: intentionally bombing his reputation to build up to Ch.5 so that people would readily believe he’s the mastermind. While I do think his annoying lies ended up helping on that front, I don’t think his mastermind plan is the cause of this behavior, because...

Firstly, we still see him lie constantly in contexts where there's no clear advantage to being hated (UTDP, Salmon Team).

Secondly: Crying wolf is one of many great strategies to make people hate you... but it is a uniquely terrible strategy to make people believe you. If you were really going to create an evil mastermind persona out of thin air, "pretending to be a lying attention-seeker" is just not the most logical way to go about it; that would only make it harder for you to convince people that you're actually being serious when you do the big reveal that you're the mastermind [for a note on Junko, see 5]. That's why I don't think the compulsive liar thing is an act; instead the evil persona we see in game is just the result of leaning into traits people already disliked about him. The reason he tells so many meaningless small lies during the killing game is just that he already was, and is, a compulsive liar.

Again, there are some "big" lies, lies he doesn't go back on, that he tells in order to tank his reputation (e.g. "The more you suffer, the more I enjoy it"). But those big lies aren't enhanced at all by the fact that he walks around telling people the sky is green, you know? That might make people hate him, but it's not the wisest way to do so while still maintaining control over people.

Finally, regarding the argument that he tanks his credibility in order to mask his own emotions, see note [6].

So, with all that said... Why even tell these lies, if they don't give him more control over the situation, his classmates, or the truth?

Boredom

I believe Kokichi’s small lies are primarily driven by boredom. Yes, his complaints of boredom are probably meant to tie him to Junko (narratively) and justify enjoying the killing game. But I do think he’s also genuinely, chronically bored. Just because he doesn’t have vivid emotions doesn’t mean his brain isn’t expecting him to have vivid emotions, if that makes sense, so there’s just a constant lack of stimulus that leaves him restless.

On that note, I think it's difficult for him to maintain interest in everyday conversations. There's not usually a lot at stake for him, because he doesn't feel much about the people around him, and isn't interested in pretending that he does just so they can feel "connected" to a version of him that doesn't actually exist [but see 7].

It doesn't matter to him which path he takes when navigating everyday social interactions, so if he has to get through those interactions anyway, he's going to take the road less traveled. Pointing fingers, confessing to murder, and spontaneously bursting into tears… it’s not usually to accomplish anything in particular. It's more like doing backflips in an empty prison cell: equally as useless as rotting on the floor, but marginally more entertaining.

Fig 2: Kokichi consciously using lies to entertain himself. His dissatisfaction with the lie appears to be unrelated to whether or not it was believed; I suspect this is because the claim was so mundane that convincing Shuichi of it wouldn't have been very impressive in the first place.

But what's actually fun about lying?

I think this constant need for entertainment is what motivates a lot of Kokichi's social behaviors, not just lying. But he clearly has a special relationship with lies in particular. I think this is partially because of his perception of himself as "fake" (in the literal sense), but more importantly because lies are a versatile, challenging, and (relatively) harmless way to get reactions out of people.

Lying poses creative and intellectual challenges: Introducing lies basically doubles the amount of social calculations required to participate in conversation [elaboration in note 8].

Lying creates artificial stakes by reimagining ordinary conversations as competitions. By playing a game of "how many times can I fool this person in one sitting?" he creates an internal motivation to engage in conversation and perform social behaviors convincingly (at least, for short periods of time). External pressures like “being liked” aren’t usually enough to motivate that.

Lying allows him to emotionally occupy extreme scenarios without actually creating extreme scenarios. If he wants to raise tensions high enough that he can actually feel them, lying is one of the less destructive ways to do so, because it's entirely verbal (including body language, that is) and thus avoids material risk/harm. Now that's not to say it doesn't hurt people [e.g. note 9]. In fact, that's often the point; I wouldn't call him a sadist in the traditional sense, but there is something gratifying about triggering twinges of guilt and empathy in yourself if you don't normally have access to those feelings.

All this to say, Kokichi's habitual small lies aren't driven by a desire to create genuine misunderstandings, or to make people do what he wants [note 10]. I think what he actually seeks from social situations is little bursts of catharsis from witnessing other people’s emotions, and the feeling of control or "winning" that comes solely from being able to deceive them and get those reactions. 

Going "it's a lie!" right after is a really important part of this. It's a punchline, a tiny power trip, a kind of "Bingo!" he can use to declare victory. He doesn't necessarily want people to believe what he said, he just wants them to know that he totally got them and he'll do it again. Because what’s even the point of coming up with all these lies if people are just going to believe them and obliviously move on?

Lying as satire

Finally, and I’ll admit my thoughts on this aren’t quite as fleshed out, but I almost imagine Kokichi's lies as a form of satire, given that one of the few things he seems genuinely (?) passionate about is his right to lie. That is to say, it means something to him, in addition to being internally rewarding. He's had to present a false persona of himself from day one, after all — but now that he's a self-proclaimed bad guy, there's a lot less pressure to do it well. Performing those social behaviors in random, nonsensical patterns, and telling lies that feel just as true as the "honest conversation" he's learned to fake... it's like a form of indignant social button-mashing. It doesn't really matter if his performance conveys a coherent image of a person or not, because it was always arbitrary to him in the first place, you know?

….And I think I'm just going to stop myself there before this gets any longer. Tysm for reading!!!! <3

Disclaimer

…Actually that was a lie, let me get on my soapbox real quick. I think it's safe to say this essay hinges on Kokichi having some form of neurodivergence, however you want to label it. Personally I see him as having some antisocial traits, but I didn’t want to make that a silver bullet, and I thought it’d make more sense to just take the specific traits I see in him and work backwards from there. With that in mind, I want to make it abundantly clear that I don’t mean to assign any moral value to emotions. I can’t say this headcanon is entirely based on my own experiences, but there's a reason I connect with it, and I don't think anyone should be judged or labeled inhuman for emotions they do or do not have.

Moreover, while I explicitly take the stance that his emotions are morally neutral, I am explicitly NOT taking a stance on the morality of his behaviors. My intention here was just to explain them logically. Between you and me, just trust that I'm a Kokichi enjoyer and I did my best to consider things from his perspective.

Credits

Game screencaps from justonegamr and JakkHearts on Youtube. Manga screencap from Mangadex.

I also want to plug this analysis by @/g0nta-g0kuhara — I'm honestly not sure how much of my analysis aligns with/borrows from theirs, but it's definitely one of the posts that informs my current understanding of Kokichi, so it'd feel weird not to at least mention it. Consider giving it a read!

Finally, shout out to @thedaythatwas for peer reviewing this meta!!

Footnotes

These were mostly off the top of my head, so if I got anything wrong, feel free to (again, nicely) point it out ^^;

 “Big lies serve a strategic purpose” Big lies are also what I'd call the "normal" type of lies, just like Maki's Child Caregiver lie, or Komaeda's fake bomb threat — they're meant to be believed and to influence people's decisions. Examples of Kokichi's "big lies": those he tells in order to impersonate the Mastermind (e.g. claiming he loves the killing game); lies to Miu (being oblivious to her murder plot) and Gonta (believing the Killing Game Busters is a good idea) for his Ch.4 scheme, and debatably DICE lies to protect himself and his Ultimate title (though for these I also think he just gets a kick out of trying to juggle such a big lie for so long).

“Small lies” An example of an "emotional" small lie is the times he bursts out crying; he's not necessarily making false claims, but his actions communicate feelings he doesn't have, and most of the time he'll follow up by reverting to a bored expression thus implicitly confessing to the lie. His claim that he can’t taste food is also a pretty good example of a verbal lie: it’s random, difficult to believe, and he immediately follows it up by saying he likes sweet and spicy things. (That last part was definitely intended to imply he was lying, but whether or not he was lying about lying depends on your hc… I personally choose to believe that he has a weak sense of taste and relies on “interesting” textures like carbonation, because I think it parallels my take on his reduced emotions in a fun way.) +++ For further examples, the majority of Kokichi's Salmon Team events are just him spouting random bullshit and then immediately taking it back.

"One line of evidence for reduced empathy/emotions": His thought process often reads to me like someone with low empathy; and his ability to rapidly switch between extreme emotional performances and total flatness suggests that, in his natural form, his internal reactions are either dull or don’t automatically reflect on his face. For example, when Kokichi "gets real" during trials, his expression often goes blank and he comes off as overly blunt/pragmatic (“Everything you said is total BS… You didn't give two shits about Tenko when she was alive." "How do you expect to find the culprit when you're all worried about each other's feelings?" "Why do you guys hate lies so much? […] And some of them are only white lies, or lies to be kind to people…") They're delivered flatly (voice/sprites, and phrasing to a lesser extent) and express frustration with people's hypocrisy around social norms. To me these are moments when he gets so fed up with the social dance taking everyone in circles that he has to step out for a second and drop the mask, even knowing that his true self will make people see him as inhuman. (I probably shouldn’t have to clarify, but for the record I say all this as someone with low empathy myself.) +++++ALSO: I want to credit @/g0nta-g0kuhara's meta for pointing out that Kokichi's expression goes flat in (different) honest moments - linked in credits above - although I ultimately interpret this in a slightly different way for his character.

"Some exceptions to the 'it's a lie' rule": His own thoughts and feelings, which are often kept ambiguous. Lies he doesn't need to retract because they're obviously false ("I hate liars!" or "I was born from the big tree behind Hope's Peak Academy..."). Small *non-compulsive* lies that serve a strategic purpose, like perjury to further the trials (though you could argue these too are "obviously false" and basically retract themselves after a moment of critical thinking; e.g. claiming he killed Angie (ch3), or debatably telling Himiko she mentioned the brick handrail (ch4) because he intentionally casts doubt over the lie by telling it very badly). And of course, he doesn't go back on his "big" lies or the lies that serve to support them.

“Compulsive lying isn’t the best way to impersonate the mastermind”: Although I think his lying is very connected to his boredom, and his boredom connects him to Junko Enoshima, I want to point out that he is unaware of Junko. To the viewers of Danganronpa 53, his behavior absolutely looks like the behavior of a mastermind… but there’s no reason for Kokichi himself to think that “someone pathologically bored who constantly switches personas” is the most believable caricature of the mastermind. I think that’s a coincidence that was engineered by Tsumugi, and from Kokichi’s perspective it’s just part of his personality.

"Tanking his credibility to mask his emotions": As some have pointed out, being constantly dishonest does make it easier for Kokichi to dismiss his own moments of vulnerability and keep his thoughts/feelings ambiguous (e.g. gracefully backing out of his love confession to Shuichi during the love suite by pretending he was joking. The idea that it's a prank is only believable to Shuichi because he already knows Kokichi likes to pull his leg in other ways). I don't disagree with this interpretation of Kokichi's lies, in fact it's a really fascinating angle and part of what makes interpreting him so challenging. However... I still don't think that's the ONLY reason he walks around telling people the sky is green. Its usefulness is pretty limited to cases like the love suite, where he's trying to 'test the waters' and back out if the first approach fails. A superficially similar example is when he cries for Gonta's execution and then whirls around with whole "I don't want to, stupidhead!" bit — he's not actually testing the waters here, because he never intended to go forward with the story 'I'm really sad about Gonta and I regret doing that;' even if you think the tears were real, the plan was always to retract it. What actually saves face for him here is the fact that he's able to stop crying and go on a straight-faced villain monologue afterwards — and all that was *required* to make that believable was his acting skills (admittedly helped by his "evil" reputation, but not necessarily by his "liar" reputation). In other words, I'm inclined to think it would have worked even if he had presented as 'honest but mean-spirited' up until this point. It's the same way Tsumugi can convince us in Ch.6 that she's evil and her grief for previous victims was an act, despite never having presented herself as a liar until now; Kokichi is lying about being a heartless villain, while Tsumugi (ostensibly) is not, but they have the same effect in the moment because their ability to switch rapidly between 'good' and 'evil' personas proves *in itself* that they're good actors, and that one of those personas must be false, regardless of how their honesty was perceived beforehand.

"Kokichi lacks emotional stake in other people": This is simply a headcanon I am positing because I think it has interesting implications for his relationship with lies. Please don't be mistaken when I say that Kokichi doesn't care about the people around him (all of the English words for "caring" are frustratingly ambiguous, in my opinion). I don't think Kokichi experiences "care" as an emotion very often, no, but that doesn't mean he can't take interest in people, have opinions on them, or "care about" them through his actions. Now, whether or not he actually does that.... is not the topic of this essay either!

"An intellectual challenge": To lie, you have to continually generate a false narrative (rather than just regurgitating the truth), you have to track which routes you've left open based on what you've already said, and you have to assess whether or not they believe you (...which are all similar to calculations you'd already be used to doing if you don't have empathy). If you want to win, you have to do all of this on the fly and do it really, really well. And once people know you're a liar, it not only gets harder to convince them of your lies, it also gets harder to convince them of the truth; once lies are introduced, the pressure to perform well pervades every part of the conversation. Of course, this is way more fun with bigger lies (like DICE lies, in my opinion), but the little ones still take a modest amount of effort (an amount he can afford to expend on a daily basis) and yield a much more immediate reward.

"Lying still hurts people": e.g. Kokichi accuses Kaede of strong arming everyone during the Death Road of Despair, then accuses everyone else of attacking her the following morning. This one is a complicated example because it was such an obvious lie that I really have trouble believing that he wanted anyone else to buy it (I really think the point was to annoy people and raise social tensions), but even though the lie was quickly pointed out, it still actually made everyone gang up on Kaede, to the point she leaves to cry in her room afterwards.

“Lying isn’t to make people do what he wants”: Again, I'm just talking about his everyday compulsive lying here. While he does use DICE related lies to make people do what he wants (e.g. make Shuichi hang out with him), I consider those part of his "big schemes" rather than his habitual behavior, since his claims about DICE are consistent, well thought-out, and long term. Not to mention, the veracity of those claims isn't too important to me, since he's already very transparent about the fact that he's trying to threaten people into doing his bidding in these cases.