#and screen time in a non canonical game

[chilcucked]

Not a day goes by where I don't think about how much I love and adore Kohga

I have written an entire character analysis on him

I love him sm

[lu-polls]

Hyrule: yay or nay?(blorbo wise)

🧚‍♂️

🤲

💥👏💥

killing him

[maddymoreau]

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Okay.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Okay but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?  

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.  

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

[rimzaaa]

You Belong To Me

Series!

Chapter Four: Under His Control

Pairing: Dark!Inho (Frontman) x Fem! Reader (y/n)

Fandom: Squid Game (오징어 게임)

Summary: Y/n barely makes it through the second game, her nerves fraying as the games grow deadlier. What she doesn't know is that someone—hidden in the shadows—has been pulling strings, keeping her safe, protecting her like a treasured possession. But protection in this place comes at a cost… and she may soon learn what it means to be under his control.

Warnings: Dark themes, obsession, possessive behavior, implied violence, implied threat of assault (non-explicit), canon-typical death, psychological manipulation, intense emotions.

Author's Note: Thank you for all the love on this series— we are just getting started.

Words Count: 2036

Tag list: Want to get tagged? Lemme know in the comments.

@salesmancarddd @marymun @astronomicalastro-blog1 @filthygalli @thehellhaveubeenloca @yosoylaprincesa2004 @watasinekoru @nightlark100 @drewstarkeysrightarm @doodle-with-rhy @lunaryoongie @ilovehwanginho @yxluana @sammie217 @sammat97

The next day began with the same blinding white lights and soft, eerie music echoing through the large hall.

Y/n had barely slept. The screams from the first game still echoed in her ears, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw red. So instead, she just stared up at the giant glass piggy bank hanging from the ceiling — the one now slowly filling with stacks of money. It gleamed under the lights, cruelly beautiful.

And away, in the dim warmth of his private office, In-ho sat on the edge of his leather couch, staring at the same screen. The camera had zoomed in on her — curled up on a lower bunk bed, eyes wide open, fixated on the fortune above her.

How could he sleep…

When his entire world was wide awake?

With a loud hiss, the heavy metal doors creaked open, breaking the morning silence in the hall. A group of guards in pink jumpsuits entered with cold, mechanical precision, pushing trolleys loaded with breakfast — plain bread and boxed milk.

The players moved like ghosts, forming a line to receive their rations.

Y/n took her share and silently walked back to her bunk. She sat down, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the plastic wrapping of the bread and tore a small piece off. She forced it past the tightness in her throat and washed it down with a sip of milk.

But then —

She paused. Her stomach twisted. The sound of gunshots from yesterday echoed again in her head.

The bread suddenly tasted like ash.

She quietly set it aside and pressed her palms to her eyes, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. Her breath shook. Her heart ached. She wanted to scream, to run — but she had no choice now. She had to survive.

Back in his private quarters, In-ho’s eyes narrowed as he watched her.

The food was untouched. Her expression hollow.

His jaw clenched.

Without looking away from the monitor, he reached over and grabbed the walkie-talkie from the side table. His voice came low, cold, and sharp

“Make sure she chooses the easy one in the next game. If she doesn’t… help her.”

He didn’t need to say her name.

They already knew who she was.

Player 222.

---

Y/n stepped into the game room alongside the other players, her steps uncertain, yet alert. Her eyes scanned the wide, sterile space — and then they landed on the wall ahead. Four shapes were displayed in bold outlines: A circle, an umbrella, a star, and a triangle.

In front of each shape stood a long table, behind which guards in pink uniforms waited silently, their gloved hands resting near small round tins.

Y/n furrowed her brows.

What game was this supposed to be? She thought.

Before she could think further, the familiar robotic voice rang out overhead, sharp and soulless

“The next game will begin shortly. Please stand in front of one shape on the wall.”

A ripple of confusion spread through the players. But quickly, panic gave way to instinct, and they began shuffling into lines — some in front of the umbrella, others crowding near the star, triangle, and circle.

Y/n stood frozen, thinking. Her heart pounded in her chest.

And then, it clicked.

Her lips parted, and she mouthed the word under her breath—

“Dalgona.”

The realization struck her like a bullet.

The shapes. The tins. The guards.

This was the infamous sugar honeycomb challenge.

She didn’t hesitate a second longer. Her feet moved fast toward the triangle — the easiest shape to carve without breaking.

Across the compound, deep in the quiet shadows of his private room, In-ho sat before the screen, eyes fixed on her.

He saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes… the speed with which she analyzed and reacted.

And the satisfied smirk slowly spread on his face.

He leaned forward, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and swirled it with calculated ease.

“So…” he murmured darkly, voice low like a secret,

“Your police instincts are still working… beautiful.”

He chuckled to himself, the sound quiet and laced with pride.

Then leaned back on his leather couch, one leg crossed casually over the other, eyes never leaving the screen — his drink in one hand, the other draped across the armrest like a king surveying his kingdom.

A kingdom where only one thing mattered to him anymore.

Her.

---

The final seconds ticked down.

Y/n’s hands were cramping now, knuckles white from tension, but her gaze stayed sharp, needle working with steady control.

Then — crack.

Not hers.

A man beside her gasped.

BANG.

Blood splattered onto her sleeve, warm and metallic. She froze for just a second, throat tightening.

But then her needle traced the last edge of the triangle — clean, unbroken.

It was done.

She blinked rapidly and slowly lifted the tin, showing it to the masked guard standing near her. He examined it in silence, then gave a single nod.

She had passed.

A pink-gloved hand gestured for her to move to the side. She stood up on shaky legs and stumbled toward the exit doors. Her body felt like it might give out at any moment, heart still hammering from the gunshots — and the victory.

Up in the private room, In-ho had stood frozen for the final minute, not even realizing he’d held his breath until she passed.

He exhaled deeply now, a sound between relief and obsession escaping him.

“Good girl,” he whispered darkly, voice low and hoarse. “You survived.”

The game ended.

More than half of the players were gone. The walls were splattered with blood. Tin trays and needles lay abandoned in the sand beside lifeless hands.

And then — the familiar mechanical click-click echoed from above. The massive golden piggy bank began to descend again, lights flashing.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Money dropped into it — thick, heavy stacks of won — blood-earned, blood-soaked.

Y/n watched it fill from the ground floor, her arms folded around herself, lips pressed together tightly. That money was never going to wash the blood off her memories.

---

It was lunch time now, the metal doors hissed open again and in came the pink guards with steel trays.

This time it was a single hard-boiled egg, a soda bottle, and a small, square rice cake. Basic. Cold. Tasteless.

The players lined up.

Y/n accepted her tray, hands still trembling. She glanced down at the food, but hunger had long left her body. The egg reminded her of the gunshots. The soda reminded her of the blood. And the rice cake just sat there like a silent taunt.

She picked at it slowly and sat alone.

Up above, In-ho watched her in silence — always watching. He hadn’t touched his drink since she’d passed the game. There was a strange stillness in him now, like a storm waiting for the next crack of thunder.

She voted X again.

She didn’t want to stay. He knew she wouldn’t.

The second round of voting had been announced shortly after lunch.

Each player was called, the same two buttons lit up on the wall — O to stay, X to leave.

Y/n stood before the panel.

Her hand hovered.

A part of her wanted to run. She had survived two games already. That money, divided among the remaining players… maybe it could still be enough to pay her debts. Maybe she could still have a chance at life.

She pressed X.

She didn’t even hesitate this time.

But when the final tally of votes was displayed…

Majority had chosen to stay.

Again.

A loud murmur spread in the room. Some screamed. Some cursed. Some simply collapsed against the bunk beds, covering their faces.

Y/n sat back on her lower bunk, lips parted in disbelief. She stared down at her hands. They were sticky with sugar, blood… and now guilt.

She didn’t want this.

She didn’t choose this.

But she had no choice but to play.

---

And far above her — in the darkened room with a bug screen infront of him— In-ho stood still again.

He had watched her vote. Had watched the tears in her eyes as she saw the results.

He should’ve felt victorious.

She was staying.

But something inside him twisted painfully.

He wanted her to stay… but not like this.

Not suffering. Not terrified.

He brought the glass of whiskey to his lips but didn’t drink. His eyes stayed locked on her curled form on the bed.

“You’ll thank me later,” he whispered, running his thumb along the rim of the glass. “When it’s all over. When you’re finally… in my arms.”

A soft, cold chuckle left him.

“Safe.”

---

The room was dimly lit as the robotic voice had already announced lights out thirty minutes ago.

Y/n slowly climbed down from her bunk bed, her body stiff and tired, and quietly made her way toward the door tucked in the corner of the room. She knocked gently.

A small metal window In the door slid open, revealing the blank, faceless mask of a pink guard on night duty.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she whispered.

The guard shook his head. “No one is allowed to use the bathroom after lights out.”

Y/n sighed in frustration. “But I really need to go. Please.”

Up in his private surveillance room, In-ho clenched his jaw.

He had been watching.

Every second.

Every move.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the walkie-talkie connected directly to that hallway guard’s earpiece.

His voice was a low growl of controlled rage.

“Are you new… or do you have a death wish?”

“Who the fuck are you to deny her?”

“Open the damn door!”

The guard immediately stood straight, startled. He unlocked the door without another word.

Y/n blinked, confused by the sudden change — but she didn’t think much of it… not yet.

She slipped past him and walked toward the bathroom area.

---

A few minutes later, she returned to the sleeping hall.

The atmosphere had shifted.

Some players were watching her now… eyes tracking her movement like hungry wolves.

One man in particular — Player 315, rough-faced and probably in his mid-thirties — walked past her, brushing his shoulder against hers with deliberate force.

He walked straight to the guard and knocked.

“I need to use the bathroom.”

The guard didn’t respond.

“What the hell?” Player 315 hissed. “She gets to go but I don’t? Why?”

He turned to Y/n, a crooked smile spreading on his face as he stepped closer.

“Why did he let you go, huh? You offer him something?”

Y/n glared, her blood boiling. “What the hell did you just say?”

He laughed under his breath. “Come on. Did you agree to please him a little? Huh? That’s how things work here, right?”

She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist mid-air.

And that… was the last straw.

In-ho was already on his feet, his glass of whiskey shattering on the floor as it slipped from his gloved hand.

He grabbed the walkie-talkie, voice shaking with fury.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU ALL?”

“DO YOU WANT ME TO GO DOWN THERE MYSELF?”

Within seconds, the guards burst through the doors.

Two of them shoved Player 315 back, but he pushed one of them in return — a stupid mistake.

A rifle was instantly raised toward him, and the man’s bravado vanished.

“W-Wait! Wait, I’m sorry! Please—don’t—don’t kill me!”

The guards lowered their weapons, giving him a final shove before letting him go. He stumbled back to his bunk, eyes wide with panic.

Y/n stood still, shocked, confused by the sudden chaos — but she assumed it was just because the man had pushed a guard. She had no idea the order had come from someone far more dangerous.

Someone watching her. Possessively. Obsessively.

In-ho stood in front of the screen, hands clenched at his sides, chest heaving.

He picked up the walkie-talkie again, voice low and venomous.

“I want Player 315 dead.”

---

The familiar childish tune echoed across the room as the overhead lights blinked on the next morning

Y/n stirred, blinking against the brightness. Around her, the other players whispered anxiously to one another.

She sat up slowly, brows furrowed.

And then—

She froze.

Chapter 5

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - perfect match

a/n: watch me suddenly appear out of nowhere after the school year has finally ended to post something!! i'm sure absolutely no one is surprised that tsukishima is the centre of this fic, but tbh idk how to feel about it (it's definitely longer than my usual ones but i didn't proofread it, so idk if the lenght is an advantage or not) but i hope you'll like it ^^ with school being over for the next two months i'll finally have time to write, so expect more works soon!!

summary: you and tsukishima decide to help your friends get together, but the plan is long forgotten when you realize what your own feelings are.

warnings: nothing really, canon yamayachi (my loves), some light swearing, bad writing

tsukishima kei did not expect any of his friends to bother him in the middle of the night. hell, he didn't even expect any of them to disturb his alone time at all. and yet at exactly 2.34 in the morning, right as he was about to turn off his currently binge watched tv show and go to sleep, he felt his phone buzzing on the nightstand. 

his eyes focused on your name, written in white font on his phone screen, surely shocked by the sight.

'why are you calling me at 2 in the goddamn morni-'

'is yamaguchi interested in anyone?'

your question caught him off-guard even more than the call itself, his brows furrowing in a weirded-out look. 

'if you're asking for yourself, i'm positive that he is not interested.' 

tsukishima heard a sigh of annoyance on the other side of the call and could only imagine the exact look on your face in this very moment. 

'well, thank god, because i'm not asking for myself.' you said. there were muffled sounds of someone preparing food in the background. 'i'm asking for yachi.'

the blonde boy smiled unconsciously.

'he does like her.' the boy stated, turning off his laptop as he put it back on the desk. 'so much so, in fact, that it can be kind of annoying sometimes.'

you squealed with excitement, a giggle leaving your mouth at tsukishima's remark. 

'perfect! now, listen carefully.'

that singular phone call created an alliance between you and kei. an alliance with only one goal; getting your two best friends to finally confess to each other. to both of you, it was almost infuriating how blind they were; how they didn't notice just how obvious it was that they both shared the same feeling. constant blushing at as little as a mention of the other's name, the stolen glances, the very obvious pining - all of it seemed to be non-existent in the eyes of both yamaguchi and yachi.

but lucky for them, you had a plan.

his eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, as if awaiting a sign from you. tsukishima still thought of your 'master plan' as rather silly, but seeing the determination on your face, and the frown that appeared when he called your idea stupid was enough for him to sigh and go with it this once.

the four of you were currently occupied with studying for a math test coming up next week, everyone nose deep in their notebooks. well, everyone except for kei.

the boy cleared his throat almost theatrically, drawing the attention of the three of you.

'yamaguchi, i think i'll have to pass on the movies this weekend.' he said, the tone of his voice as lifeless as ever. 'akiteru insisted that i go to one of his games, so i guess you'll have to take someone else.'

the freckled boy looked a little troubled upon hearing the information. both you and tsukishima were well aware that the tickets to the cinema were already paid for; yamaguchi would definitely be sad if it all went to waste. 

'well, i guess i can ask hina-'

'yachi, didn't you tell me last week that you wanted to go to the movies with someone?' you barged in before the boy could even finish his sentence, your friend freezing in her spot at the mention of a conversation you had not that long ago, cheeks flushed pink at the mere thought of going somewhere with yamaguchi one-on-one. 'maybe you'd fill in for tsukki?' 

the girl glanced at you, panic in her eyes as an awkward silence filled the room, everyone waiting for her to answer. you gave her an encouraging smile, as if trying to non-verbally tell her to go for it, to use this as a chance to get closer to the boy she liked for so long. 

'if yamaguchi doesn't mind...' she mumbled quietly, head turning to face the boy who was already shaking his head. 

'of course i don't.' yamaguchi smiled, his small dimples showing up in the process. 

you glanced over to look at tsukishima, a triumphant smile on your face as if you just won a volleyball tournament. his hair was slightly messy, and his glasses were sliding off his nose, two of the top buttons on his school uniform unbuttoned, showing a bit of his collarbones. surprisingly enough, the blonde boy smiled back; a small, quick smile that your eyes barely noticed. you had no idea what it was, but something about that singular smile made your heart beat faster. 

don't. the main focus of this entire thing is to get yachi and yamaguchi together. not to think of tsukishima and how attractive he looks- 

shit.

developing a crush on tsukishima kei was certainly not part of your plan. 

at first, you tried ignoring it as much as you could, focusing solely on your friends and getting them to date. as time went on and yamaguchi and yachi started getting closer, you almost felt a sense of relief - you could finally stop spending so much time around tsukishima, which made your chances of getting over your stupid crush higher. 

but it wasn't as easy as you thought. tsukishima was intelligent, pretty, and his snarky remarks and judgy personality actually drew you to him even more with each passing day. through the countless conversations and numerous phone calls, he proved himself to be more than just a salty, mean guy that everyone viewed him as.

'soon enough, they won't even need our help.' you mumbled to yourself as you opened your bento box, a smile on your face as you noticed your mom homemade onigiri inside. 'i don't know what i'll do with myself then.'

tsukishima scoffed, closing the textbook in front of him.

'maybe start focusing on your own love life for once.'

'hey! it's not my fault that i'm a good friend.' you stated, mouth full of food, as you looked up at your friend sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking through the tasks assigned for next week. 'besides, it's not like i'm the only one.'

tsukishima adjusted his glasses, looking up at you for a mere second before focusing back on his notebook.

'touché.'

'oh, come on.' you whined out, dissatisfied with the lack of response from the blonde boy. 'you won't miss this even a little bit?'

alright, maybe just a bit-

'no.' tsukishima stated firmly, fixing his posture as he highlighted one of the important sentences written down. you heard a bit of hesitation in his voice, and the few seconds of silence before hearing an answer couldn't help but make you wonder. you decided to ignore it this time - he was focused on something else right now, there was no need to disturb him. 

'do you think yachi will like my outfit?'

tsukishima was sitting at the edge of his best friend's bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up to see the twelfth - no, thirteenth shirt that yamaguchi has tried on already. the boy sighed, turning his device off. 

'it's your first official date, i'm sure she doesn't mind what you wear.' he stated, gaining a frown from yamaguchi.

'you didn't answer my question.'

'alright, i think she'll like it.' the blonde haired boy said, reaching out for a bag of chips, opening it with a loud sound. 'but i'm sure she'll focus more on the date itself rather than what you're wearing.'

ever since announcing to their friends that they're going on their first official date, both yamaguchi and yachi were full of stress, constantly overthinking every little detail from their outfit to whether or not the date will go well or not. tsukishima found it rather comical - it was only a date after all. why stress over it so much? he never went on one, obviously, but he always thought that when the day came, he'd approach it calmly.

'do you have any tips on how to not freak out?' yamaguchi asked suddenly, catching his friend off-guard. 'during the date, i mean.'

'how can i know? i've never gone on one.'

the freckled boy looked at tsukishima, a confused expression on his face as he processed his words.

'oh.' he paused for a second, his voice quieter when he continued speaking. 'i thought you and y/n were, you know, a thing.'

huh?

to say tsukishima was shocked was an understatement. he genuinely had no idea what to say; he never even let a thought of you and him being more than friends, 'partners in crime', as you loved to say, slip through his mind. never did it occur to him that someone from the outside would see your relationship as being something more than a merely platonic one. 

well, maybe there was something to it after all. 

yamaguchi's words made him wonder - although he did find you annoying at times, it was only occasionally and to a very little degree. that in itself was very rare in tsukishima's eyes, as he found most of the people surrounding him at least normally annoying. you, on the other hand, were a completely different case. your jokes, no matter how awkward or downright cringe, made him crack a silent laugh more often than not, and every time he saw you smile, his lips uncontrollably curved up into a small, barely noticeable one themselves. 

'oh, no, absolutely not.' the blonde blurted out after a long minute of silence, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red. 'there is not a single bone in my body that would want to date her. now get up idiot, or you'll be late to your date.'

the moment tsukishima opened his bedroom, after walking his friend to the bus stop, he immediately plopped down on his bed, phone in hand, instinctively opening messages to write to you. surprisingly enough, a message was already waiting for him.

'yachi almost cried because of how stressed she is T-T'

'do you think we should spy on them to make sure it all goes well?'

he found himself smiling at the words on his phone screen, quickly typing back an answer. 

'do you really not have a life of your own?'

'idiot.'

only after a few minutes did he get a response from you.

'can i come over?? i'm bored :33'

a harmless message, one might think. in reality, tsukishima was freaking out at the mere thought of hanging out with you for a reason other than setting up your friends, his cheeks a light shade of pink as his eyes kept digging a hole through his phone. 

you weren't any better than him - hands slightly shaky as you awaited a response for what felt like hours, but was actually just a few minutes. you had no idea what took over you; was it a sudden wave of bravery or rather an idiotic spontaneous choice to ask tsukishima that. but nonetheless, when you finally got the response, you felt ecstatic.

'alright.'

'bring some snacks.'

'kei, i think yamaguchi is he- oh, that's certainly a new face.'

you stood in front of the door with an awkward smile, facing tsukishima's older brother, akiteru, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. to say he was surprised was an understatement - he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. as if a friend that's not yamaguchi coming over to tsukishima's house was so out of the ordinary that it could become a national holiday. 

'come in.' the younger male appeared in the back of the hall, an oversized dinosaur shirt and shorts on. his expression was softer than usual; not until he looked at his brother, whom he gave a sharp stare, signaling him to let you inside and don't make such a fuss about it. 

you sat down on his bed, awkward silence filling up the room. not wanting to make the conversation about your friends as per usual, you slowly realized you don't know what to talk about, trying to think of something, anything, as you began unpacking your bag filled with snacks. 

surprisingly enough, it was tsukishima who spoke up first. 

'wanna watch a movie?' he asked, opening his drawer to pull out two bottles of soda, hidden there so that his brother doesn't devour all of them. 'unless it'll make you even more bored than you were before.'

'well, if you have a boring taste in movies-' 

'says the one who looks like their favorite movie is mamma mia.' tsukishima scoffed under his breath, turning his laptop on and starting to search up movies. you looked at him, a dramatic expression as you pretended to be offended. 

'and you look like you're about to mansplain the godfather to me.' 

a short silence filled the room before you heard the blonde boy let out a short, muffled laugh at your comment. 

'you couldn't be more wrong.' he sat down next to you, a small smile still on his face. 'i found it kind of boring, actually.'

'what do you like, then?'

'horror movies.' tsukishima stated, eyes focused on the screen. 'but tadashi gets easily scared, so i often don't have a chance to watch them.'

'same with me and yachi.' you said, unconsciously scooping a bit closer to the boy as you tried to get a better look at what he was searching up. 'i love them, but yachi jumps at every small scare on the screen. sometimes, she even gets scared when there's nothing happening at all.'

'they really do match each other.' he mumbled, putting the laptop on the bed as he pressed play on a movie he chose. his eyes quickly glanced your way to get a nod of approval on his choice.

'yeah, they do.'

and we could, too.

'are you and tsukishima dating?'

you almost spat out your drink, the words coming out of hinata's mouth catching you so off-guard you were close to choking. 

the three of you, along with kageyama, were currently cleaning up after volleyball practice, the boys racing on who would clean more balls off of the floor.

'no, we're not.' you said in a clearly sad tone with an obvious hint of dissatisfaction in your voice. 'what the hell made you think that way?'

the orange haired boy stopped in his tracks, his signature smile disappearing for a minute as he got lost in his own thoughts. 

'oh! i remember now.' he said after a short while, his grin coming back. 'yamaguchi told me that you two are close.'

'he did also mention that he seems happier around you.' kageyama added, joining the conversation. 'seeing tsukishima happy must be pretty scary.'

not really, you thought. but at the same time, what confused you more was what kageyama said right before. 

he seems happier around you.

yamaguchi has been kei's friend for the longest time, so any of his observations must be true, or at least that's what you liked to believe. but would that mean that tsukishima kei, the salty, closed-off guy whom everyone finds intimidating could possibly like you? was there truly a possibility that he enjoyed spending time with you? 

as you finished cleaning up the hall, saying your goodbyes to your two friends who ran off to practice volleyball somewhere else, a familiar, tall figure appeared in the doorframe, sharp eyes staring at you with an expression that you couldn't exactly decipher. 

'want me to walk you home?' he asked, hands in his pockets. 'it's getting late.'

you looked at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up onto your cheeks before quickly nodding as an answer.

'sure, let's go.'

most of the walk was filled with silence on both parts, exactly as you expected. even though it might've felt awkward for some, you did enjoy his presence in itself enough that a conversation wasn't necessary. 

the boy stopped in his tracks mid-way, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his phone and an old pair of white, wired earphones, showing them to you as a silent question of whether you wanted to listen to music with him or not. you agreed without a second thought, a small smile on your face as he put on one of his playlists. 

'i really like this song.' you mumbled, eyes lighting up upon hearing the familiar melody. with both of you wearing the same set of headphones right now, you were practically forced to walk closer to each other - hands constantly brushing against one another, a faint blush on your face as you tried to ignore it and focus on the music. 

tsukishima, on the other hand, couldn't shake away the thoughts roaming around his head. he felt as if what he was doing now was incredibly unlike him; and maybe it was. but for some reason, he didn't mind being like this around you. less cocky, sarcastic, mean and more... gentle.

he could feel his fingers brushing against yours from time to time, and it drove him crazy. should he go for it and play it off nonchalantly, or just ignore it? should he even make the first move or wait for you to do it?

before he was able to decide, tsukishima felt your hand reaching for his, heart rate immediately speeding up as your fingers shyly intertwined with his, looking the other way to hide your anxious expression.

his hand was much bigger than yours, but somehow it fit perfectly with yours. as if they were created solely to hold one another and nothing else. the plan to get your friends to be together was long forgotten by now - your mind was clouded with thoughts of tsukishima only, and little did you know that his wasn't any different. 

you glanced his way only to find his eyes already on you, hiding his true feelings behind a nonchalant look. only now did you notice that the two of you were standing in front of your house, the boy adjusting his glasses as he waited to see what you'll do next. 

'i guess i should go home now.' you mumbled, but you still didn't move an inch, hand not leaving his. 'see you tomorrow?'

his hand squeezed yours tightly before taking it away, an unusually warm and welcoming smile on his face. 

'sure. see you tomorrow, idiot.'

but as you slowly made your way towards the door, tsukishima couldn't shake away the feeling in him, telling him to go for it. and as much as he tried to resist it, he just couldn't anymore. 

'wait.’

before you could fully turn away, tsukishima kei's lips were already on yours, a sweet, long kiss that felt as if he was waiting to do it for years. his hand traveled to your waist and it didn't take long for you to react; lips moving swiftly with his, noses bumping into one another before you pulled away, a giggle escaping your mouth as you saw just how red tsukishima's face was.

‘don't laugh at me, moron.’ he said, immediately catching the reason for your laughter as he flicked you in the forehead. ‘your whole face is red, too.’

‘i didn't expect you to do this.’ you mumbled, eyes focused on his as you reached to hold his hand again. ‘didn't expect my feelings to be mutual, either.’

‘i'm glad we feel the same.’ his face leaned in closer to yours, a wave of confidence taking over him as he placed a short kiss on your forehead. ‘but i would still prefer to properly ask you out. if you'd say yes, that is.’ 

‘of course i would.’ you smiled, ‘i'd be stupid not to.’

‘should we bet on how long it takes the others to realize we're dating now?’ tsukishima smiled at you, eyes not leaving yours for even a spare second. you laughed at his idea, giving his hand a squeeze. 

‘get ready to lose, kei.’

‘you wish.’

taglist: @moonswolfie

[rupeenotruby]

I view og Link and Hyrule and separate characters despite the fact that they are technically the same character. Because of this I have certain headcanons for them that don't transfer over, and I thought it would be fun to talk about them! When interacting with LU I try to keep headcanons as close to the comic as possible, especially when it comes to Hyrule as this makes it more fun for me. Therefore, you will see a lot of the reasoning for headcanons being pretty much "it's like that in the comic."

For whatever reason, Link is depicted with his sword on his hip instead of his back like most other Links.

(There is also a post card with AoL Link on it riding a motorcycle that has him have his sword on his hip (I couldn't find it). Less canon than the manual to me but still interesting.). In LU however Hyrule puts his sword on his back like everyone else!

In both TLoz and AoL Link technically holds his sword in both hands as they flip the sprite instead of drawing a new one depending on which way Link is facing so that his sword hand is always closest to the screen.

(All sprites in this were ripped by Mister Mike)

And I KNOW!!! it is most likely due to hardware limitations but if the Tp Link gets to be headcanoned as ambidextrous because his entire game was flipped so can this Link!!! This isn't really something I see get acknowledge much by the fandom (in fact I've only seen it mentioned TWICE) and it isn't mentioned in LU. I like left-handed Link so even though he is ambidextrous he still mostly uses his sword in his left hand.

Link isn't that short!!!! ... at least in his Hyrule. Observe:

So, I put him at an averageish height. Honestly it doesn't matter what his actual height is since this is a fantasy world but whatever it is he is slightly above average. Hyrule however? He isn't that tall in a group of Links so he is definitely below average in height 😭 I would say in real world terms Link is around 5'9 and Hyrule is around 5'5.

There are three ways to approach Link's fairy form.

He shrinks and grows wings

He turns into a little creature (which is someone's fanmade fairy design)

Or he looks like one of the fairies in his game

I see the most of the first one and even if it isn't how it looks in game it's popularity makes sense. I prefer the third option (if you couldn't tell) cause I think it's fun and closest to canon (I suppose if you wanted to be 100% canon you would give him a total make over x). I base it on a combo of the manual and the game. I've heard along the grapevine Hyrule's fairy form goes the first route and has dragonfly wings which I think is a good fit in terms of bug wings. Also I want antennae!

(My designs for the Zeldas aren't final shhhhh) I don't really ship much but I can see Link and Princess Zelda getting married for political reasons (there's the whole "great king" thing and having two princesses which could create some succession issues and I think Link getting married would just clear things up and look good to the people of Hyrule. I think he would marry the first Zelda he meets because I've always seen her as the more leader type and politically oriented of the two). That being said I don't think Link would actually be attracted to either Zelda. Or anyone. This isn't really based on anything except for the fact that I said so lol.

Now Hyrule has a bit more explaining. I keep the political/platonic marriage to Dawn but the zelink of choice for him is with Aurora because when I was first reading LU I thought it was being set up in a way that put all the Links with their "primary" non-Zelda love interests except for Sky. So Time with Malon, Legend with Marin, Twilight with Midna and Wild with Mipha (don't ask about the other three I did not think about them all that often) and all of those are redheads.... so since I headcanon Aurora with the red hair I thought Hyrule would be shipped with her. I've later found out this isn't the case and that some Links are going to end up with their Zeldas but xD I don't really care ships don't matter that much in LU anyways and honestly I don't even know if Jojo considers the Zeldas to be separate people. Also why don't I just have the marriage be between Hyrule and Aurora? Ehhhh. Errrrm.. I really like platonic marriages.

This is a pretty common headcanon and it is based on two lines from the first manual and the second manual. In the first manual it established that Link was a traveler (hence the nickname in LU). "During his travels he had come across Impa and Ganon's henchmen." In the second it says "Link remained in the little kingdom of Hyrule and lent his hand to its restoration." Which implies that either Link was planning to leave Hyrule (and thus could be from Hyrule) or had traveled to Hyrule (and thus wasn't from Hyrule).

I choose to see it as that he isn't from Hyrule. I also think it is fun to have the "Hero of Hyrule" not be from Hyrule. A lot of people go with Calatia (which is canon to the comics and I don't consider the comics to be canon) and I go with that too because honestly it doesn't really matter where he came from, just that it isn't Hyrule.

Technically Link is always touching the Magical Sword in AoL so I've always pictured it as a magic wand of sorts for his magic making it stronger and more focused hence why he doesn't start all this fancy magic until after he gets the sword. Link can use magic without it it's just not as good (like the sword beams). I just think it is a little odd that the "Magic Sword" doesn't seem to do anything special. Obviously this doesn't apply to Hyrule as he heals Twilight without the sword.

Some people get this wrong but in AoL it states that "One day, a strange mark, exactly like the crest of the kingdom, appeared on the back of Link's hand as he approached his 16th birthday." And I think it's pretty likely that he set out right after hearing the Legend of Zelda from Impa and celebrated his birthday on the road. So, I think it would be funny he got whisked away to the LU adventure right before his 18th birthday and just never mentioned it.

That's all! Obviously, I have more headcanons but they can be applied to both Link and Hyrule to varying degrees. I first played AoL four years ago now (six years ago for TLoZ) and found LU a little while after AoL. In the beginning my view of Link and Hyrule were pretty cloudy but as time has gone on they have solidified into different characters in my mind that would do slightly different things. That being said the LU fandom has been an awesome source of headcanons and perspectives on Link.

One of the headcanons that I know for certain that has come from the LU fandom is the fact that Link can's swim. Which yeah! Isn't it weird that he uses all sorts of ways to traverse water but none of them involve getting in the water? Or that a way to insta die in AoL is falling in lava or water? Maybe I would have come to that conclusion on my own or maybe not but who cares about the "maybes."

There are a lot of things the fandom does in regard to Hyrule that I disagree with but find interesting, or dislike, or hate, or things I agree with and love! But no matter what it has made me see a game that means so much to me in so many different ways. And isn't that the point of being in a fandom?

[thankskenpenders]

Today we got some news regarding a big change for the Ian Flynn's Q&A podcast, the BumbleKast. As outlined in a blog post by Ian, starting in 2025, all Sonic-related questions submitted to the show will first need to be screened by Sega. (I have to assume this is also why Ian announced they'll no longer be doing live Q&As starting next year.)

Frankly, I can't say this is particularly surprising.

While the BumbleKast is ostensibly a podcast about Ian's work as a freelance writer for all sorts of things, and also just a place for him to shoot the shit about stuff he likes, he's still predominantly seen as The Sonic Guy. Sure, he also does a bunch of other freelance work for other series, and original comics like Drogune, and he's also the narrative mastermind for the whole Rivals of Aether franchise these days, but it's his insights into what goes on behind the scenes with Sonic that people really care about. Your average Sonic fan can't just go up to Iizuka or whoever and ask him a question about the current state of the lore, but Ian's inbox is always open.

Because of this, I've thought a lot about the BumbleKast's place in the fandom and The Discourse in recent years. Ian wants to be as open and honest as he can about his work, and I think that's admirable. To me, hearing about creators' struggles and the shit they go through just to get a story out the door tends to make me sympathize with them more. Sometimes a story just doesn't turn out as well as you'd hoped, but you're on a tight deadline and all you can do is move on to the next project. I've even softened a bit on Penders over the years as he's shared more about the absurd situations and odd creative demands made behind the scenes at Archie. Unfortunately, not everyone has that mindset.

Ian's basically always had obsessive haters who were eager to take everything he says out of context to try and stir up shit, but that used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie comics. Most of the fandom didn't give a shit about what Ian was doing with Sonic and Sally's love life or whatever. Most of the fandom wasn't even reading those comics. But Ian's gone from being a writer for a non-canon spinoff comic, to being the initial lead writer for the first ever canon Sonic comic series, to being the new main writer for the games themselves as part of the official Sonic Lore Team. Way more Sonic fans care about his work now, and when he's so open about his work that makes him an easy scapegoat.

It feels like damn near every week on Twitter Ian's personal trolls have posted yet another BumbleKast clip out of context to rile up the fandom and make it look like he has no idea what he's talking about or like he has some kind of agenda. And, unfortunately, people often fall for this. Of course, it also goes the other way, with people more sympathetic towards Ian taking things he says about Sega and framing them as proof that Sega has no idea what they're doing with the brand. Which, well, let's be real, isn't always the most unreasonable thing to think, given Sonic's rocky history. But I'm surprised it took this long for Sega to start paying more attention to what gets said on the BumbleKast when fans use it so regularly as a source of drama.

I've also often felt that they just need to be WAY more selective about what messages they respond to on the show. Questions Ian can't actually answer due to NDAs, questions that are borderline incomprehensible, "questions" that are really just fan ideas. And the haters, oh, the haters. Ian does not need to put up with angry rants about how he should make SonAmy canon or what the fuck ever. Even if Ian's willing to put up with it, as a listener it can make the show just super unpleasant at times when someone aggressive pops up with an inflammatory question. There have been entire BumbleKast Mini episodes I had to skip because they were just obsessive critics of Ian's paying to grill him on a dozen different things and treat him like an idiot.

But at the same time, I get why the show got to be this way. It's become a part-time job for Ian with multiple new episode a week. Given how piss poor the pay tends to be for freelance writers, I can't really blame him for wanting to keep this secondary stream of income open, and to not have to refund people left and right for rejecting their questions. The man's got bills to pay. (And so does Kyle, for whom managing the BumbleKast seems to have become a full-time job.)

I dunno. The man's got the patience of a fucking saint. I would've quit the franchise if I was in his shoes, with people wishing he would die for shit like minor disagreements over Sonic's characterization or him misremembering an obscure old lore thing. While I do hope that Sega doesn't keep too tight of a leash on him moving forward, and I hope that he's still able to speak his mind about his work, part of me also hopes that having to be much more selective about Sonic questions results in less bullshit like this.

[cumironi]

— no good deed : CRYBANGERS

Trigger & Content Warnings for Character Lore:

This story contains themes of generational trauma, toxic family dynamics, manipulation, emotional neglect, infidelity, elitism, complex power dynamics, class privilege, unhealthy coping mechanisms, obsession, sexual tension, questionable relationships, and emotionally messy behavior, unsolved childhood trauma, child grōoming. Characters are unhinged, morally gray, filthy rich, and constantly making awful decisions. . This is fiction—don’t try this at home.

Important Disclaimer : All character backstories and dynamics in this lore are entirely fictional and created for narrative purposes. They have no connection to the original canon or the creators (Gege Akutami). This is an alternate universe (AU) where characters exist as non-sorcerers in a chaotic, elite high school setting.

TAGLIST : OPEN! | PLAYLIST | MAIN

LORE, EVERYONE :

YOU

when you were nine, you used to hear it—the creak of your mother’s stilettos at midnight, the rustle of silk she only wore when your father wasn’t home, the voices of men she didn’t name and never said goodbye to. they’d leave their cologne on the towels, their laughter in the walls, and you’d listen from the stairwell, pressed against the bannister, heartbeat synced to the rhythm of your mother’s moans—moans that sounded nothing like love and everything like freedom.

you grew up thinking that was what women did: they let people in and then made them leave. so now you fuck like your mother fucked—casually, coldly, as ritual, as release. that love sounded like groaning, like slaps, like something forbidden but familiar. you thought it was normal. so you learned to be quiet. you learned to stay still. and then you grew up. you didn’t become a slut out of rebellion. you became a slut because it felt like home. you don’t want intimacy. you want control. you learned sex is how women stay in power, not how they get touched gently. you can’t remember the last time someone saw you naked and didn’t think they were winning.

GOJO SATORU

gojo was seven the first time he saw death, real death, not on a screen, not in a storybook, but in the bathroom of the family’s summer home where his mother had locked the door, crushed two bottles of sleeping pills, and drowned in the silence that wealth can buy.

watched her body seize and then go still in a white-and-gold bathroom while his father was on a business call and the maid screamed and he just stood there, staring, thinking “she’s not really gone, she’s just faking like always.”

he stood there for two hours, not crying, just watching, because something in him knew this would be the moment that rewired him, and when his father found them, he didn’t even look down—he just told gojo to clean up and the next morning, his father told him “don’t mention it again. we’re moving forward.”

and from that day on, gojo became the boy who laughed too loud, kissed too easily, and told the world he was too dumb to feel anything real.

but you know.

because you held his hand while he told you.

and you never asked why he still talks to ghosts.

GETO SUGURU

when geto was eleven, he lived in a compound in thailand with a man who was supposed to protect him and ended up teaching him what power over another body felt like; the first time someone kissed him, it wasn’t romantic—it was practiced, tested, coerced, and when he told his father, the man was gone within the hour and never mentioned again; but the touch never left, and now geto fucks to prove he’s the one in control, smiles like he’s never been used, and builds communities so he can burn them before they burn him.

no one knows.

but sometimes, when he looks at you, you see the child behind his smirk.

and that child is still waiting for someone to say you didn’t deserve it.

NANAMI KENTO

they used to time his crying. if he could stop under three minutes, they’d let him eat. it was a game. one he always won. one he still plays in his head when he’s alone. his mother kept a spreadsheet of every time he cried. It was color-coded. she called it “performance monitoring.” his father once made him rewrite an apology letter 142 times because his sentence structure was “too emotional.” he had to earn his birthday. earn his love. earn his peace. he never got it. he still keeps his own spreadsheets. even for you. you’re the only person who ever got a color code labeled “unknown variable.”

he learned to speak without inflection, apologize without meaning it, and come without making a sound. that’s why he looks so calm. that’s why you don’t trust it. there’s a storm behind his eyes that no one’s ever asked about. not even you. and he’s grateful for that.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

his diagnosis was sealed in a manila envelope and locked in a drawer before he turned eight. “primary psychopathy.” they said he lacked remorse. lacked empathy. they were right.

and suddenly, there’s no twin. not anymore. that’s the lie the school whispers but no one repeats. the records say “accident.” the truth never made it past the family estate. the trainer quit. the surveillance went dark. sukuna said nothing. and that twin isn’t dead from “accidental drowning.” sukuna killed him. held him underwater until he stopped moving. smiled while he did it. he just stood there. watching. he was six. his parents found out. his father slapped him that night and said, “if anyone asks, you weren’t there.”

paid every servant who saw it. fired anyone who blinked wrong. moved towns. changed names. rebranded his trauma as “anger issues.” he’s always been very good at pretending he wasn’t there. until he’s inside you, and then it all feels real. only you see the way his hands shake after he cums. but even you don’t know everything. and he prefers it that way.

SHOKO IEIRI

her father owns funeral chains. her mother is a silent woman who wears black pearls and speaks to spirits. shoko was raised in a house with embalming tools on the dinner table. her sister died when she was twelve. she did the makeup on the corpse herself.

she wasn’t supposed to find the body. her sister had taped the note to the door: “don’t open.” but shoko opened. and for the next five hours, she sat on the floor, watching the shadows twitch and the blood dry. when their father came home, he didn’t cry. he said, “help me clean.” that’s the first time she held a scalpel. the first time she understood that grief is just a mess, and someone has to clean it. that’s why she doesn’t flinch. why she sleeps with the light on. why she fingers her own pulse when it gets too quiet. she doesn’t believe in ghosts. she just doesn’t think the dead ever leave.

UTAHIME IORI

utahime’s father used to “discipline” her with a belt he kept hanging on the wall as decoration. Said it built resilience. her first boyfriend cheated on her with her cousin. her second boyfriend told her she was “too intense.” her third recorded them and sent it to his friends. her fourth was gojo, her first real loss—he seduced her, used her, then left. she hates him now. sometimes. sometimes she still fucks him in locker rooms just to feel seen.

she swore never again. that’s why she breaks things when she’s angry. why she pulls away when someone’s kind. she’s waiting for them to hurt her. because they always do. she keeps a note in her phone with the names of everyone who’s ever lied to her. your name’s not on it. yet.

SIDE CHARACTER:

MEI MEI

mei mei was born in the wrong neighborhood, in the wrong house, with a brother who stares too long and a bank account that never held enough zeroes, and she got into kinjouku through forged papers and a scholarship that came with conditions—conditions she met by sucking and lying and doing anything it took to be in the room; she wears fake designer, fucks real teachers, and calls it networking, and she hates you because you’re everything she pretends to be, and you don’t even have to try, and she’ll fuck your boyfriend, your professor, your worst enemy, and still show up to class like she belongs here—because in her mind, she earned it, and you were just born lucky. she hates you most because you get everything she’s had to sell herself for—and still don’t want it.

TOJI ZENIN

toji was born into money that came from blood and prisons, a trust fund paved in broken teeth, and after his mother overdosed and his father married her sister, he learned that family is currency and love is always conditional; he left home at sixteen, came back with tattoos and silence, and now he haunts kinjouku like a curse that won’t die, fucking teachers and students and maybe even admin, everyone except you—because he knows you hate him, and he loves that, and he thinks you’re the screamer, thinks you moan in microphones and ruin reputations for sport.

more crybangers coming soon. . .

[sturnsdc]

The Alchemy

pair: Jack Hughes x fem!reader.

synopsis: Yn has had bad experiences in romance, and when her mom asks why she's so sure about Jack, the memories start to answer for her, helping her understand why Jack is the right one.

words: 4,9k

warnings: just some corny shit, slightly influenced by taylor's song the alchemy, probably some mistakes in the writing—english isn't my first language, non-canon events, slight angst, cussing, mention of surgery, a mom who's apparently quite sensitive, and reader's had some really bad experiences in the past, use of “yn”.

A/N: this is so bad, i'm sorry, this is what happens when i listen to music while watching a Devils game

main masterlist                  nhl masterlist

dividers from: @cafekitsune ! ♡

This happens once every few lifetimes

YN´S POV

this afternoon, when my family organized a meal and my parents told me to invite Jack, i didn’t expect that sweet melody i’ve been obsessed with these past few days to start playing, and right at the moment my mom walked into the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, looking at me almost hesitantly, as if she wanted to say something.

“sweetheart, can i ask you something?” she said in a soft, cautious voice. I swallowed the cookie i was eating and nodded, frowning in confusion.

“sure, mom.”

“throughout your teenage years, i saw you with a few boyfriends—boys who seemed amazing, promising, and very charming. And i can see that Jack is even more than all of that, but… how are you sure?” she said. I stayed silent for a few seconds, processing the question. “Don’t get me wrong, we all adore Jack and his family, and we adore them so much that i need… to trust. I need to know that this time we’re leaving you in good hands, and that he’ll be good to you.”

“he’s different. And i know i’ve said that before, many times, actually, but i know i’ve never felt the way i feel with him. And he’s not perfect, you know? but i’ve realized he doesn’t have to be,” i added, looking at my hands for a second before meeting my mom’s gaze again. “I feel good with him, happy, even with things that seem so small, like, sometimes i can’t see him for weeks, and all it takes is seeing that big smile of his to make me feel safe.”

These chemicals hit me like white wine

What if I told you I'm back?

The hospital was a drag

Worst sleep that I ever had

then i quickly remembered one of those many moments when just seeing his smile was enough.

Jack had surgery, and we were all waiting for him to wake up. A part of me felt incredibly nervous—what if he’s still upset? These past weeks, he had been in such a bad mood with everyone. He sighed constantly, answered defensively, and his performance started to drop. We were losing him, and this had to be the solution. It had to be.

right?

but what if it wasn’t? what if something else starts to frustrate him?

what if he doesn’t want me here?

he doesn’t know it yet, but i spent the night by his side, holding his hand and suffering from a terrible backache because of the uncomfortable chair in the room. Luke had asked if i’d rather go with them, but how could i do that? i couldn’t bear the thought of him waking up in the middle of the night and realizing he was alone. At the time, i didn’t even ask myself if he’d prefer me to leave. It didn’t cross my mind that he might not want me there. Maybe it was too soon to be this close?

we´d been together for a month, and although we´d been great friends before that, i never worried about overstepping boundaries with my closeness—until now.

i sighed, staring at the options in the vending machine in front of me. My favorite cookies weren’t there, so i chose the not-so-bad option.

‘the things i do for you, Jack Hughes’, i thought, feeling my phone vibrate repeatedly in my jacket pocket. When i pulled it out, i saw i was getting a call.

“naked cat,” it read on the screen. That´s Luke, so i quickly answered, feeling my heart race and anxiety wash over me. His voice came through as i bent down to pick up the cookies i’d just bought.

“are you busy?” i heard his voice—it sounded irritated, or maybe just tired.

“not really, just went down to grab something to eat. Why?” i asked, trying to sound calm.

“Jack woke up, but he won’t stop asking for you. He wants you here, and he’s being so… annoying.” There was definitely some irritation in his voice.

“i, uhm, i’m coming,” i said, sounding more desperate than i’d intended. “Is he alright tho?” i asked softly, walking back toward the room.

“he’s fine. He’s just being a jerk,” he said. “Please hurry.” Then he hung up.

well, that’s a good sign, right? i mean, he wants me there.

i felt heat rise to my cheeks, and my heart pounded so hard it felt like the whole hospital could hear it. My hands were sweating, and my footsteps seemed so loud, as if everything else had gone silent at that exact moment. Or maybe it was just my anxiety consuming me. I wasn’t sure. Either way, i had to snap back to reality when the cookie package almost slipped from my hands embarrassingly, right at the entrance to Jack’s room. I quickly grabbed it, but the noise was loud enough to make everyone turn to look at me—including Jack.

that’s when he smiled.

he smiled in a way i´d never seen him before—not even when he talked to kids or hung out with his friends. His eyes crinkled, his cheeks turned slightly red, and he looked genuinely happy to see me.

i felt my heart melt, and i completely forgot about the past few weeks—the arguments, the tense nights, and the distant days. I forgot all my worries and doubts because there he was, still groggy from the anesthesia, smiling at me.

his smile was so genuine that i knew i’d never forget it. I wanna see him smile like that for the rest of my life. I want him to always be that happy.

his family looked relieved; his brothers gave me tired smiles, and his parents exchanged glances with small grins.

“you’re here,” he said, his voice groggy but smiling so brightly.

i smiled unconsciously at the memory, and my eyes drifted out the kitchen window, quickly finding my boyfriend in the yard, talking to my cousins—probably about golf.

“with the others, i got overconfident, and that’s why it was devastating to lose everything with them. But with Jack, it happened naturally, and i had the pleasure of getting to know him deeply before falling for him. He’s an incredible guy—with convictions, plans, and a deep love for his family and friends. And, you know… there are certain moments—the kind that make you realize you made the right choice.

before, even a short, silly fight could destroy a year-long relationship, even if it was over the most trivial thing. So i got used to expecting little, predicting responses, and bracing myself for how things would turn out. But he’s the one who opened my eyes and made me realize it won’t always be like that.”

I circled you on a map

I haven't come around in so long

But I'm coming back so strong

this time, the memory made me sigh.

we argued—it wasn’t a calm discussion, nor was it resolved. I can’t even remember what the fight was about anymore, but i know it ended because Nico called Jack, saying it was time to leave. Jack just sighed in defeat, said a brief goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, and slammed the door. Not long after, i followed.

that was almost a week ago. Now i’m in Boston visiting my family, and Jack is wrapping up his road trip with a game in Toronto. We’ve spoken briefly, and even through messages, the tension is palpable.

Luke and Nico have spent the last 48 hours begging me to forgive him and call him already. They say he’s constantly looking at his phone and that they’ve caught him rereading our conversations over and over. They tell me he’s sorry and that they can see it in his face and in the way he plays.

i’m trying to believe them—i really want to take the first step—but whenever i try to send a sweeter or longer message, my mind reminds me of all the times i’ve done that before and ended up humiliated, feeling like an idiot. So i can’t.

i decide instead to watch the game with my family, all of us sitting near the tv, watching every play. They were winning—Jack had even scored a goal and made an assist—but every time the camera focused on him, a pain in my chest grew stronger. He looked angry, frustrated. He wasn’t enjoying it.

my dad kept glancing at me every time Jack appeared on the screen, almost as if silently asking me what was going on. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I couldn’t tell him that his daughter was too much of a coward. I couldn’t admit that i was afraid Jack would react poorly, that everything might fall apart over a fight i can’t even remember how it started.

my mind was spiraling with doubts when the intermission arrived. My phone vibrated, and i grabbed it like it was a lifeline. It was a message from Luke. My heart sank when i opened it. It was a picture of Jack, taken not so discreetly from behind. He had our conversation open on his phone.

we haven’t talked in hours, i thought.

“please, just talk to him,” Luke’s message said

“y´all play in NJ on saturday, right?” i replied, and he quickly answered.

“yup, so please come back. I’ll even pay for your ticket if you want.”

and that’s how i ended up here, hiding in the crowd, watching them win again. We’d talked a little more since then—he’d gone back to calling me affectionately, using all the nicknames—but i kept up the act. Part of the deal with Luke. Deep down, i still couldn’t forget the way he spoke to me during the fight.

today, he seemed more upbeat—not completely, but definitely more than he’d been during that game in Toronto.

i saw him smile when Nico scored a goal, and his face looked more relaxed. Something in me hurts at the thought of that changing when he knows i´m here. Luke and Nico talked about how regretful and upset he was, but we still needed to talk about what had happened. It couldn’t happen again—not something like that.

the game went on, and i tried to enjoy it as much as possible, celebrating the goals and finally their victory against the Rangers.

“at least he’s having a good day,” i told myself.

but the moment had come—i had to see him. Following Luke’s instructions, i waited until the locker room was almost empty. While waiting, Nico came out and smiled with relief when he saw me there, wearing Jack’s jersey and offering a small smile of my own.

“thank you,” he said, and i could tell from his voice that he truly meant it.

finally, Luke came out, and i could hear Jack’s voice behind him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” i heard Jack ask, his tone questioning. But his brother didn’t answer. Instead, Luke smiled at me and came over to hug me before Jack could see me.

when Luke stepped aside, Jack’s question was answered. His eyes widened, his mouth opened, and it looked like he’d lost his breath.

i´m not much different. Even though i knew i’d be seeing him, it felt different in person. He is here, and i don´t know whether i wanna laugh, cry, smile until my face hurt, or drop to my knees and stay there. I feel happy to see him, to know he is still here. But i´m also anxious—the possibility of things going wrong loomed larger and larger.

“hey,” i tried to say, though i had to clear my throat when my voice came out higher than usual, thanks to the anxiety.

but he didn’t answer. He ran to hug me like he hadn’t seen me in a year. In his arms, i felt him tremble. I could only hug him back just as tightly, taking in his cologne, the dampness of his hair from his quick shower, and the warmth radiating from his body.

“i’m so sorry, i’m really, really sorry,” he said, and i could hear the pain and sincerity in his voice. That was all it took for my tears to fall. I cried just like i had the day i came back to my parents’ house, sobbing into my old bed, thinking i’d lost Jack. But this time, i cried in relief because he is here, holding me just as tightly, apologizing for what had happened.

“i’m sorry too, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

he pulled back just enough to cup my face in his hands. His eyes were red, his lips trembled, but he was looking at me with so much love.

“we’re gonna fix this,” he said, not breaking eye contact. “This can’t happen again. I don’t want to ever feel this fear of losing you again, so we’re gonna fix it.”

and we did. When we got home, we talked for hours, setting personal and relationship boundaries and clearing up what had happened that day.

“Jack makes me feel safe,” i confessed to my mom. “He shows me everything i’ve learned from my past experiences and helps me use it in a positive way,” i added, looking at her. “He helps me, and together we’re building a relationship that tries to be as healthy as possible. And i didn’t even know that that was possible before being with him!” I laughed bitterly. “He makes everything feel right—but not in that honeymoon phase way, you know what i mean?”

So when I touch down

Call the amateurs and

Cut 'em from the team

Ditch the clowns, get the crown

Baby I'm the one to beat

this time, the memory was more casual, sweeter, and perfectly represented what it feels like to be in a relationship with someone like Jack.

we were in the garage, in a space we decorated together, which has a small net and some sticks and plastic balls we use for “training.” We had dinner about half an hour before, and Luke was so tired he decided to head to bed early. Jack and i, however, weren’t sleepy, so we decided the best thing to do was burn some energy by training. Well, Jack calls it training, but all i do is stand in front of the net and clumsily try to block the balls he shoots my way.

i don’t think i’m much help in his training, but honestly, neither of us cares. It’s fun, and i love feeling this free and silly with him.

“come on, at least try to catch it!” he complained, laughing loudly and teasing my slowness.

“i am trying!” i defended myself, but i laughed just as hard.

Jack shot another ball in my direction, and this time, i actually managed to catch it. I let out a squeal of surprise and looked at Jack, who was smiling widely.

“i did it!” i jumped into his arms, and he hugged me tightly in return. The garage echoed with our loud laughter and cheers, and that repeated for a while until we finally started feeling tired.

the next morning, when i turned on my phone, I didn’t expect to find a message from Luke. But when i opened it, my heart melted instantly. It was a photo from last night—the moment I hugged Jack after finally catching the ball. It was a beautiful photo, and Luke’s message made it even sweeter.

“i was gonna tell you two to shut up because i could hear you from my room, but when i saw you two i couldn’t bring myself to do it. You looked too happy. Still, please shut up next time.”

“and… with Jack, everything feels so natural, even though i know being with him involves attention and some undesirable things. Normally, one would think that’s one of the biggest issues, but he’s shown me he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure i stay comfortable and true to myself.”

Cause the sign on your heart

Said it's still reserved for me

Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

when i started dating Jack, i should have expected that this would eventually become public, that people would find out at some point and our bubble of love and safety would be invaded by thousands of eyes and opinions. However, even though i thought about it once, i never imagined it would happen this soon. I didn't think it would happen now.

it all started with a mistake. I filmed a tiktok, just talking about a book i read and wanted to share with the group of people who follow me on the app. However, i never thought the video would reach more people than usual. It was no longer 100 views; it was nearly a million, and the comments were no longer about the book.

@/garretlover: omg, is that Jack Hughes??          

@/hughesyjack: What?              

 @/garretlover: Yeah! Look at 0:42, on the right side, you can see a guy walking behind, and I swear it's Jack, he literally looks just like him!                      

@/oliviarofan_acc: Yall are delusional, it's just an average guy with brown, wavy hair.

these were just examples, but there were many more, debating whether the blurry figure in the background belonged to the famous hockey player or if it was just a guy who looked very similar. The comments were divided, and the video kept going viral because of this situation.

but what am i supposed to say? should i post a video clearing things up? should i say it’s not him or should i be honest? Jack and i had never talked about a situation like this because we never thought it would happen.

then, the pages dedicated to posting content about the New Jersey Devils began to take notice, some posting the news of this rumor that was getting bigger and bigger.

i guess my biggest mistake was opening the comments on these posts, because unlike my tiktok, there wasn’t so much debate about whether it was true or not, but people were giving their opinions about this controversy.

@/jackswife: why would people think he's with her loll

@/huggybiggestfan: Standards are so low now...

@/john928: What happened to the models? I thought players always dated models, or at least beautiful women

@/kay_fl: I saw the video before she deleted it, and honestly, her voice is so annoying, how could Jack be with her? I'd be in constant pain LMAOA

@/sidney87fan: Isn't she his fourth girlfriend this month? lol, I swear he's always with different women, people worry too much, he’ll probably dump her in a few days.

is this what it all comes down to? they just saw a two-minute video, i was just talking about a book, why is everyone now commenting about me and him?

i know i shouldn’t let it affect me, that i should stop looking at the comments, but it's addictive, and my finger keeps scrolling down the screen, with new comments appearing constantly. "She's fat," "she seems annoying," "she’s uglier than the last one," even darker comments, wishing horrible things for me and sharing information i’m not sure is public or if they got it from somewhere private.

any app i opened felt like a virus, it was everywhere, and i could only read the opinions of what they thought about me from that video, not even realizing it was nighttime until i heard the front door open and Jack's voice announcing his arrival.

“hey, babe,” he greeted, and i could feel my whole body tense up. My chest hurt and i wanted so badly to respond, to greet him and run to hug him like i always do, but i couldn't, because i knew that if i spoke, the knot in my throat would be obvious, and i felt like if i moved, my body would hurt more than ever. I saw him appear in front of me. He looked at me, and his brows furrowed when he did

“what happened?” he asked.

i shook my head and cleared my throat to speak, “Nothing, how was your day?” i asked, making an effort to stand. However, i didn’t go to hug him, but walked past him towards the kitchen, feeling a tear slip down my cheek as i heard his footsteps following me.

“it went well, the guys were in a good mood,” he replied softly, and although i was giving him my back, i could feel his gaze, intense, analyzing.

“that’s good,” i said quietly, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, which i quickly drank to get rid of the knot in my throat. Instead i felt like vomiting, and had to put the glass back and hold onto the counter, fighting the urge to empty my stomach.

there was silence, long enough to make me more anxious. My stomach twisted, and i had goosebumps. I couldn’t turn around to look at him, and my whole body hurt.

i heard him sigh, and before i could panic from it, i felt his hands on my waist, and his chin resting on my shoulder. “What’s going on, babe?” his touch was warm and comforting, and when he wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me tighter, i could feel myself starting to fall apart. The tears began to fall uncontrollably, and my sobs were so loud i couldn’t speak. He didn’t rush me, he waited.

when i finally regained my breath, i started telling him everything that was going on, and he listened to every word without interrupting. When i finished, i looked at my shoulder. We stared at each other for a few seconds, without saying a word, until he straightened up, pulling away from me and using his hands on my waist to turn me around. When we were face to face, he opened his mouth, looking directly into my eyes.

“i don’t care if it was a one-minute video or a ten-minute one, or if i was on the side or the whole screen. I’m your boyfriend, you can show me, i can sneak in. Now, if you want it to be a secret or private, i’ll respect that, but believe me, i don’t mind being in something that involves you, because i really want this to be serious and real,” he started. “You and i both know i didn’t used to take things seriously, and that i had some casual relationships like people are saying, but this is different, and i see a future with you.” His hands gently caressed my waist. “Eventually, people will find out, but today I can start demanding that these posts be deleted and that no one talks about my private life. I can’t promise they’ll forget it, but i’ll do everything i can to make you feel comfortable again and to make sure you don’t feel like you owe anyone an explanation.” In his eyes i saw sadness. “I’m so sorry that this side of my job is affecting our relationship, but i really want you to feel safe enough to tell me anything that bothers you, because i swear i’ll do everything i can to change it.”

i don’t know if it was the tone of his voice, or the sincerity in his eyes. Or maybe it was his touch, his warmth, and the way his words seemed hypnotizing, but something about him made the pain in my chest start to lessen little by little, and only the remnants of my suffering were left in my swollen, irritated eyes and my congested nose.

“i’m sorry, i really didn’t want this to happen,” i said, and he quickly hugged me, to which i reciprocated, my body losing its tension and energy.

we stayed like that for minutes, or maybe hours, whatever it was, it was enough to make me feel better.

“by the way, don’t believe what they say, to me you’re beautiful. The most beautiful girl,” he confessed, making a small smile appear on my face.

“Jack is really an incredible guy, and even though at first i tried to resist, he made me understand that i shouldn’t,” i saw him stop talking to my cousins, and the smile on his face was so big that i started smiling without realizing it. “He...”

These blokes warm the benches

We been on a winning streak

He jokes that it's heroin but this time with an "E"

"Jack, in the recent photos posted on the team's social media, we've seen you looking very happy, and this season has been one of the best of your career. Is there something keeping you this motivated?" said the voice of that interviewer whose name i’ve forgotten.

this is the third time i´ve watched this video, but i can’t stop, and i feel like i’m smiling more each time.

Jack smiled, letting out a small laugh as he looked down. “Well, you know, the usual,” he replied, though you could feel the emotion and nervousness in his voice from that question.

oh, he definitely knows why he’s been so happy heading into games.

“is it about that girl? people in the comments talk a lot about how happy you seem since they’ve seen you with her,” the woman insisted.

“yes, she’s really helped me a lot, along with my family. She’s like a heroine,” he said, surprising me the first time, as he usually wouldn’t have said something like that. My heart beats so hard I feel like it’s going to leap out of my chest, and my cheeks burn so much they feel like they’re going to explode.

“I suppose she really is a heroine, since we haven’t seen results like this from the Devils in such a long time. Do you feel confident you’ll advance in the playoffs?”

then the video ended, followed by another, and another, and another. People in the comments started calling me the “heroine,” and unlike when the rumors about our relationship exploded, this time people seemed to support us, even seeming happy about the change in the star player.

“he’s different, and everything feels so right,” i sighed happily, watching as people slowly began entering the house, including Jack. “I know it’s hard to trust again—believe me, i know—but he’s worth it. And if you ever doubt it… he’ll show you a thousand times why you should believe in him and in his love.”

Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads

Beer sticking to the floor

Cheers chanted, cause they said

There was no chance, trying to be

The greatest in the league

Where's the trophy?

He just comes running over to me

winning the Stanley Cup isn’t easy. Every team fights through long and grueling games, and each player endures physical and emotional challenges, chasing their dreams and hoping to achieve the ultimate prize while enjoying what they do. From my experience, i’ve seen these guys give it their all—pouring in effort, tears, hope, and trying to maintain faith in the incredible team they’ve built. They had to fall so many times, feel frustrated, stuck, questioning everything they know over and over again. But only by doing that were they able to rise again, coming back to win with breathtaking games—like the one where Jack pulled off another hat trick, like it was nothing, helping the team secure that electrifying win that pushed them into the finals. Now, after six incredible games, I can see the result of all these months of hard work.

there are screams, tars, leaps of joy, and i can feel my own cheeks wet as i watch how everything they fought for finally led to this prize—the Cup. Seeing Nico lift it felt surreal, and i feel like my heart is about to burst with happiness as i watch them smile and embrace each other. I don’t even know how much time has passed anymore, because i feel like i’m floating. I hear them singing, laughing, and i watch each of them lift the Cup, kissing it and savoring one of the best moments of their lives.

i spot Jack and Luke, hugging each other tightly, and beside me, i hear their mom crying with pride for her sons.

is this really happening?

then he looks in our direction, and his eyes find mine. I can only smile, and at some point, time begins to blur, and i find myself standing in front of him.

he won the Cup, but i swear, my prize is seeing him this happy. My prize is the way he runs into my arms, lifting me into the air and spinning me around as he laughs, refusing to let me go.

this is where i always want to be—supporting him every step of the way, in every moment. I want to be by his side.

i remember that moment perfectly because the photo Quinn took of us has been my lock screen ever since. We even have a framed photo at home to commemorate that day.

This happens once every few lifetimes

“so just trust me, because i know he’s the one,” i said, looking back at my mom and noticing she was smiling, wiping a tear from her cheek. At that moment, Jack walked into the kitchen, just as the song ended, smiling and greeting us, completely unaware of our little conversation.

yes, this is where i want to be forever.

© sturnsdc 2025, i do not authorize my work to be translated, copied, and/or modified on any platform without my consent and proof of it.

[aventurineswife]

I just had an idea what if the IPC found out that Kafka has a lover, idk how they would, but let's just say they somehow found out, and they're like thinking it must be someone well known or someone who they have a bounty on or something, but in reality, it's just some small time streamer on some basically nowhere planet that people tend to forget exists, and reader is just chilling one stream and someone brought up dating, then he's like "Oh, yeah, that reminds me chat recently I got a girlfriend, she might be here, one second." then a few moment's later Kafka wearing a mask comes into the camera view, lmfao, idk why a concept like this is so funny to me, like some dangerous ass person then their partner is some average Joe

Love in the Middle of a Raid

Summary: The Interastral Peace Corporation uncovers shocking intel: the notorious Stellaron Hunter, Kafka, has a lover. Expecting someone dangerous, influential, or equally criminal, they instead find… a small-time streamer living on a backwater planet. Chaos ensues when said streamer casually introduces Kafka on their stream, mask and all, while the IPC watches in disbelief. Turns out, the galaxy’s most wanted manipulator has a soft spot for lowkey vibes, bad internet, and cuddles.

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic Kafka, Streamer!Reader, Secret Relationship, Intergalactic Shenanigans, Found Footage Format (via stream), Unexpected Couple, Soft!Kafka, IPC Panic, Light Romance, Fluff, Mild Satire.

Warnings: Mentions of Kafka’s canon criminal activity (non-graphic), Light swearing in chat logs, Excessive amounts of fluff disguised as federal threat intel, Viewer discretion advised if allergic to war criminals with domestic tendencies.

The Interastral Peace Corporation’s command center was never quiet, but today, the noise wasn’t the usual clatter of surveillance drones or security briefings. No, today the air buzzed with disbelief, confusion, and a few half-stifled laughs.

An agent slammed a report on the nearest desk, practically shouting: “Kafka has a what?”

“A lover,” came the deadpan reply from the analyst. “Confirmed.”

“But that makes no sense. She’s—she’s Kafka. There’s gotta be some intergalactic kingpin, right? A terrorist, or a—”

“Check the footage,” said the analyst, clicking play.

The screen showed a low-resolution livestream—someone in a hoodie sitting in a cluttered bedroom with LED lights and a worn gaming chair behind them. A few mugs stacked in the corner. A chatbox on the side scrolled rapidly.

viewer426: so do u have a gf or what

bigToeMaster: bro’s too boring for that

VoidPenguin: LMFAO imagine dating during a raid

You blinked at chat. “Oh, yeah, actually—I meant to say this before. I do have a girlfriend now. Been a couple weeks.” You rubbed the back of your neck, sheepish. “She might be here. One sec.”

The stream cut to BRB, and the IPC agents leaned in.

A minute later, the stream returned. You sat back down, now smiling like you knew you were about to drop a neutron bomb on chat. From off-camera, someone entered.

Slender fingers. Black gloves. Thigh strap peeking beneath a long black jacket. A pearl glinted at her ear.

And then, her.

Kafka. The infamous Stellaron Hunter. Wearing a simple half-mask like she was barely trying to hide, standing behind you with the casual aura of someone who had just baked cookies, not evaded a galactic dragnet.

“Hey, chat,” she said smoothly, her voice like a blade wrapped in silk. “Be nice to them.”

You snorted. “She threatened to delete my save files when I made a joke about pineapple pizza, by the way.”

“I meant it,” Kafka purred.

The chat exploded.

wtfKAFKA: IS THAT KAFKA???

ElioFanboy: you’re dating a war criminal

imDeadHelp: SHE’S IN YOUR ROOM??????

“...They’re a streamer. On Narkal-V. That planet doesn’t even have reliable plumbing,” one officer said, still stunned.

“And yet she’s there. Making tea in the background.”

“This is worse than any rebel faction,” the director muttered. “How do we compete with that level of emotional manipulation?”

“Sir,” the analyst cut in, “she just commented in the stream: ‘They can’t arrest you if they never find you.’ With a winky face.”

The director stared.

Kafka leaned over and whispered something in your ear. You chuckled, muted your mic, and the two of you left frame together, the chat spamming theories like it was a conspiracy thriller.

Later, the stream returned with a calm announcement:

“Stream’s ending early today, folks. My girlfriend made dinner. Gotta go before she decides I’m the next target.”

And just like that, the galaxy’s most hunted manipulator walked into obscurity... to cuddle with a small-time content creator who still called their fans "the Chill Zone."

𝐈𝐏𝐂 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓: Operation “𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐲𝐭𝐞”

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘: Red

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Target Kafka has developed a possible affection-based vulnerability. Proceed with caution. Also: invest in influencer surveillance.

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐌:

Interstellar psychologists have confirmed—Kafka may, in fact, just be into people with low-stress schedules and decent Wi-Fi.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧:

We’re so screwed.

[is-david-jacobs-jewish]

Evidence:

(In Rough Chronological Order from Concept to Musical)

Dave Simmons, on whom the character David Jacobs is (loosely) based, was Jewish according to some sources.

"David Jacobs" is a Jewish name. As is Esther, Mayer, and, Sarah. Les might have been given a non-Jewish name (Lester, Lesley) to avoid persecution or "Les" could be short for "Leshem" which is Hebrew for "Precious Stone."

In the Hard Promises script, the Jacobs family apartment is on Baxter Street which was a Jewish neighborhood (called "Jewtown") in the late 1800s.

Also in the Hard Promises script, Wiesel calls David a Jewish racial slur. Mayer Jacobs was also originally a tailor just like many Jewish immigrants of the time who found work in the garment business.

In the earlier film scripts, Yiddish words are used in relation to the Jacobs family such as when Les stops to kibitz a game of marbles.

The Jacobs family being Jewish lines up historically with an influx of Jewish immigrants (especially form Eastern Europe which includes Poland, from where at least Esther is canonically from) to the Lower East Side in Manhattan that occurred between the 1880s and the 1920s.

Assuming the Jacobs are all Polish, their immigration would also line up with the May Laws and the Warsaw pogrom.

We know that the Jacobs family values education just as Jewish families have historically and traditionally valued education. Education was particularly important to Jewish immigrants who had been barred from attending schools in their home countries.

David Moscow, who played David Jacobs in the original 1992 movie, is Jewish and has said that because of this similarity and others between him and the character he felt that being cast in the role was kismet.

In the adaptation from screen to stage, "Davey" has been described as Jewish in the original casting calls and later character descriptions.

Several Broadway actors who have played Davey have been Jewish including Ben Fankhauser.

[lemonhemlock]

the thing is i don't care about how hard it must be for the hotd writers to adapt from book to screen with budget and time limitations (even though i am historically sympathetic enough to these difficulties and i do understand the need to make changes to fit the story in a different medium)

but what i see as understandable excuses would be shoddy cgi or costumes and less impactful action scenes or even fewer action scenes/battles. which we already got anyway, the only battle (rook's rest) is humdrum and rather spiritless. to a certain extent, i can even excuse cutting out characters or merging them or simplifying storylines.

be that as it may, the fact of the matter is that, even the scenes which should have cost the least amount of money in this whole production, i.e. the sitting-around-in-rooms-talking genre of scenes for which GoT became famous, SUCK. the politics in this show are non-existent. the characters' motivations are so wishy-washy to the point of parody. the character arcs look like they were settled via a game of russian roulette. the S2 version of characters doesn't make sense as a progression of their own S1 canon.

and this has nothing to do with money OR time constraints. it plainly only has to do with bad writing. a talented writer can absolutely have a canon-divergent vision and an understandable desire to adapt their own vision. but they have to recognise if they have the TIME or the BUDGET to bring that canon-divergent vision to life, if they can sufficiently commit to integrating those changes in a way that feels organic to the characters. IF NOT, THEN DON'T DO IT.

i get it if they're big rhaenicent stans or if they really, really like this version of alicent that lives in their heards, the one that would ditch her kids in favour of rhaenyra or if they're so enamoured by the idea of heroic rhaenyra (and that's just scratching the surface when it comes to all the points the show fumbled). but if they don't and can't fit those changes in a way that doesn't destroy the logic of the narrative, in a way that doesn't leave other characters hanging dry with no motivation left to carry out the plot points they have to hit, they should have had the maturity to drop those ideas and settle on something else that could have been easier to film with the resources available.

i said it before and i'll say it again: 1) whether fans are satisfied with the changes made to the source material and 2) whether those changes make sense in the context of the show are two separate issues that apologists sometimes try to merge in other to muddle what the actual problem is. "oh you're just mad because it's not book canon" or "you're mad because your headcanons diverge" or "we had logistics limitations" are not pertinent responses to critiquing the integrity of the show's storyline!

so i hope the writers and executives see all these criticisms and choke because they did a piss-poor job of everything and turned S2 into a goddamn hack operation

[imaginariumwanderer]

So I know you aren't active on here as you usually are, but your predictions about eternal sugar update are mostly right. Hollyberry shield breaking, one of the beasts followers not being major fans of them, pre corrupt flashbacks, and even beasts interacting (Not in the story tho...yet)

Cheesecakemermaid I am thriving. I enjoyed how the writers approached pavlova's character with him only let slip his desire for freedom when esugar is not around. With every beast-yeast update, minus ep7-8, we have one released epic cookie being the beast's follower while the other helps the ancients. I wonder if pavlova will help the holly gang out, it might be interesting if it turn out both sugarfly and pavlova ended up playing the ancient helper role.

The moment I saw the beast's battle dialogues I freaked out n immediately switched teams to read them lol. Devsis must've read my mind. This is also the first time since shadow milk that we have a beast referred to another beast in-story, mystic flour not exactly counting since she talk about the group as a whole. Consider the newest update's title screen we might actually get an in-story beast on beast interaction sooner than I thought.

(Pardon the quality)

Devsis rlly love smilk, his beast yeast ep was just a couple months ago and they're putting him in the story again. I'm hoping it's a sign of later updates having small hints or future build-up to ep11-12. Since it's likely silent salt/white lily's update will also act as a finale to the whole beast saga. (+of course they're using smilk's lady milk form, everyone love the lady milk form, I'm predicting it now when ep 10 drops the official lady smilk sprite the fans are gunna go insane over it, I just hope that's not the only thing everyone will rave about) Coming back to their battle dialogues it's crazy how a couple of lines can reveal so much about the beast's relationships, namely that they hate each other's guts- I can go into details about each but I'm sure many other fans have already done a way better analysis than me so, I'm just going to say that the flour/spice dialogue n milk/sugar dialogue are my favorite! I've always have a headcanon that flour+spice would be the two beast who'd buttheads over their respective philosophies n their canon talk fuels me to no end. It's funny how passive-aggressive smilk is toward the other beasts, especially toward esugar, his lines imply he enjoyed making her mad in particular which make sense consider how languid n serene she tend to be. As opposed to, let's say burning spice, it'll be too easy for smilk lol Coming in w a semi-spicy take (pun not intended), someone is going to stab me for this but scouting through the youtube comment section got me scratching my head as there's so many folk who believed spice+milk are besties? For some reason?? Bspice straight ignored smilk in one and his "you're all talk..." clearly expressed disappointment at smilk. The "hot stuff" can be taken as flirting I guess, but eng!smilk just love giving folks nicknames in general (which make me wonder what he said in the og kr) Non of the beast's battle dialogues are positive, as much as the idea of them being evil besties make me happy it's clear they're not lol the writers are making an intentional move to contrast the beast vs the ancient. Without a common enemy the beast would've sooner or later tear each other apart trying to establish their selfish goals. Other miscellaneous thoughts: Baby hollyberry is so cute I kinda wish we got to see other baby ancients, both vani n smilk's younger form got revealed in their update so I kinda hope the game will feed the fans eventually. There's exactly one(1) baby vani sprite n I shall treasure it like I treasure my non-existent first born. Ep 7 implied at least smilk wasn't just poofed into existence as an adult cookie but have to grow up, we don't know if this apply to other beasts but I'm thinking the answer is yes. This scene got everyone in a choke-hold:

It's short but it's impactful, I'm glad the fandom is embracing it n giving some love for my mustached king royal berry. I'm also enjoying how the fandom is considering thought that hollyberry/dark cacao are indeed neglectful/bad parent (going maybe even into abusive territory) and mulling over the fact that they can be heroes with good intentions at the same time. It's the kind of complexity that I love.

It's fitting ep 9 got released so close to mother's day, one thing I like about esugar is how she's almost nurturing and smothering similar to a mother. With the way esugar treats cookiekind, she's like a overprotective/manipulative parent keeping their kid inside all day far from the "danger" of the outside world. We've never exactly see much of holly's parenting per se, but it's clear she's a lot more lax compared to esugar... And we still have no ideas wtf is up w the babies in esugar's trailer. I've seen theories floating around but I guess we gotta wait for ep 10 and see. With that I'm taking my leave, I wish you a fun update w plenty of pulls cheesecake!

[seancekitsch]

HOT TO GO: an Adrian Chase x Reader x Rick Flag fic

Rick knows he shouldn't shit where he eats. Rick knows Waller would demote him in a second if she knew he was letting you and your de facto guard dog have special privileges on this mission. Rick knows he shouldn't take you up on your offer to play a game.

Warnings: threesome smut, drinking, smoking, slight knife kink, rick is a good man, reader and adrian are nuts, villain!reader, non canon compliant i like to play god and make people kiss, this is filthy, dirty talk, task force x neck bomb jokes, slight daddy kink, spitting, choking, reader is a little mean, its not poly but its certainly something

You know exactly what the file in ARGUS says about you. A boring little dossier about the full extents of your powers, your record, all of your known aliases (even the embarrassing ones), your allies, and even the common ways you’ve tried to escape capture. Nothing in the little folder says anything about your observation skills. 

Nothing about how easily you pick up on phone conversations, how easily you commit to memory a glance of words on a screen over someone’s shoulder. Nothing about how you take in the tiny details, changes in expression or exactly how many things you can use in a room to kill someone in increasingly resourceful and creative ways. 

Thats how you figured out Rick Flag has a type; a type that you fit into well. You didn’t mean to overhear his phone call with Waller, but you would be using it to your advantage. 

You know about June Moone, about your dear friend Harley, and now his blue eyes settling on you as you try to get in and get out of this mission without fucking about too much. He likes his girls a little messed up. You figure trying to unseat Green Arrow as mayor through completely legal means and then forcibly reforming the prison system does it for him. It helps for you that he’s attractive; that means you don’t have to just use him, you can enjoy him too. Who knows, you might even get to know him enough to admire him as much as you admire the man who named himself your personal protector. 

Adrian Chase had apparently put himself into prison in order to talk to you, inspired by your idea of justice and progress or something. He offered protection and you’re not one to turn down a free advantage. You didn’t exactly expect to like him though, knowing the reputation he has and the awkward way he approached you at first. But Adrian was quick to win you over, and you'd spent countless nights talking to each other through the bars of your cells. You even one night tried to "go on a date" in the mess hall. His humor turns you on though, his protection lets you run your mouth without consequences. He's killed for you before, and you damn well know he'll do it again. Waller even seems to know you're a package deal, seeing as she let the two of you be on this mission together. You don’t say it, but you hope this mission gives both of you enough time off your sentences to get out around the same time. You’d love to hang out with him free, even if you refuse to say it. Belle Reve doesn’t exactly allow conjugal visits, though. 

You watch your peripherals, Adrian on one side sipping his Corona and keeping the men of Task Force X away from you, Rick on the other side with his eyes tracing your curves as you sway to the music. Adrian to the naked eye looks like he’s not paying attention to you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He sways awkwardly and scans the crowd, one eye always on you and his fingers every so often brushing against your leg. His way of checking in. Rick is more stiff, Rick is more obvious about watching you. You notice his fist clench when you brush your knuckles against Adrian’s arms. You notice how tight he holds his beer. You notice the fit of his pants. 

You catch on to the fact that Rick knows what Adrian is to you, because he only decides to make his move towards you when Adrian moves away to make two more drinks for you. 

You nod to the bar stool next to you, eyes not leaving the small crowd. Funny, you'd heard these missions are some kind of Suicide Squad, but here you were with the crew of sixteen still hanging on strong. 

“Great party, thanks for hosting,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm, although maybe you shouldn’t be too harsh on the guy. He’s not the guy that put a bomb in your neck.

“Sure,” he laughs, low and under his breath, and he clinks his beer bottle against your empty glass.

“Can I ask you something?” Rick slides up next to you at the bar, looking past you instead of at you. It’s clear he’s trying to sus out Vig, who is dancing back towards you with his two signature concoctions. You roll your eyes at the Colonel, but lean in anyway, pushing your chest closer.

“I don’t know why I’d talk to you, unless thats an order,” you snark at him, and maybe thats unfair, but it’s part of the game. 

“It’s not… don’t do that,”Rick dismisses your wide smile, the game of cat and mouse begun. You know exactly what he’s about to ask, but you have to make him work for it. 

“Why him?” he asks, eyes darting from you to the man behind you briefly. You smirk, of course he asks that. Probing, looking to see if he has a chance; thinking he’s being slick about it. Adrian turns back towards you as if summoned, his weird ability to just know making him come back as if the leash around his neck were tightened. He has another drink for you, pink and fizzy. 

You roll your eyes and grab the drink Adrian made for you from his hand, lifting it to your lips.

“Well, it was either him or Animal-Vegetable-Mineral Man,” you joke, voice deadpan as you punctuate your statement with a swig from the glass. You grimace. It’s almost all rum. Adrian is handsome but, my god, is he bad at ratios.

“Yeah…” Adrian joins the conversation eagerly, ready to agree with whatever you say before actually processing it. His eyes widen behind his thick glasses as he turns to fully look at you. He finally figured out what you were implying, and a smile slowly forms on your lips hidden by the rim of the glass.

“Wait really? But he’s got that, like, tree hand!”

You snort with laughter, and Rick cautiously laughs too. Like he’s in on the joke, you think. 

“It would be like that scene in Evil Dead, but consensual,” Adrian continues, his voice rising just like his concern. You roll your eyes at him, already expecting this reaction. Adrian talks big game about being unshakeable but you find it so easy to rile him up. 

“Calm down, Spaghetti Squash. You’re much sweeter than he is,” you pat Adrian’s cheek and he beams at you, wide mouthed and toothy and tipsy. You drag your hand slowly down his face, tracing his jaw before you let your hand fall back into your lap. 

“And Handsomer?” he fishes for the compliment, and you playfully frown at him. 

“You always ask questions you know the answer to,” you tease, and Adrian’s smile never fades. 

Rick must be feeling pretty voyeuristic right now, you think, watching two people who just plainly adore each other flirt and touch in front of him; but Rick also doesn’t flinch away from this, you notice. Maybe he likes watching. 

“He makes me laugh,” you answer your commanding officer, turning back to him finally.

“Is that a Who Framed Roger Rabbit quote?” He asks, brows furrowed, but a smirk on his face. Okay, play ball, Colonel Flag.

“See, Adrian? I told you Goody Two Shoes was a man of taste,” you glance up at Adrian again before focusing your attention back on Rick Flag. Zero in, Aim, Kill. 

“Is that how you see me?” he asks, a challenge. 

You tilt your head, a non-answer. Yes, kind of. He himself is good. Maybe too good. Thats probably why he does this silly little Icarus dance and gets too close to people who can and will burn him when they kiss. You glance down at his drink, then back at him and the light glistening of the residue of beer on his bottom lip, the way it shimmers in the light. 

Rick is handsome in a way Adrian isn’t. While Adrian is THE choice when it comes to general compatibility and attraction and survival, Rick is A choice. He’s serious, kind, and genuinely tries to see the good in everyone, even if there isn’t any to be found. He’s a gamble, mostly because he’s more willing to gamble. He would put his faith in you and hope you would be by his side even without a bomb in your neck. He’s built like Magic Mike. 

“Let Adrian make your next drink,” You tell him, lying, “He’s a master mixologist.”

Rick’s eyes move from you to your protector, whose gloved hand is now possessively on the back of your neck, right where the bomb was placed. 

“And why should I do that?” he counters. Adrian tenses. 

“Because maybe,” you grab Adrian’s hand and clasp it within yours, “We’ll let you keep drinking with us. You have my vote, you need to earn his.”

Rick laughs, and slumps back from you; his eyebrow twitches in curiosity. Hook, line, sinker. You squeeze Adrian’s hand. 

“And how would I do that?” Rick asks. 

You laugh as you take his free hand, leading both him and Adrian to another room. 

Rick doesn’t understand this game. 

All he knows is that he seems to lose every card he pulls, and at least half of the cards you pull. He went to college enough to know this is some deranged version of King’s Cup, but he doesn’t remember a rule that lets Adrian lick rum off of your chest or a rule that means you have to pop off a round when you pull the King. 

After his third seemingly bad card, he realized you were lying about the Vigilante’s mixing abilities. He’s a heavy pour with no eye for ratios, not unlike his heavy handed and uneven idea of justice. Rick figures thats why you and that maniac fit well, both twisted and curious and reckless in the same ways. It’s attractive in you though, as much as it is off-putting about Adrian. 

Ricks eyes follow Adrian’s tongue though, wet and flat and lavishing the liquor between your breasts, watching how he leaves goosebumps on your skin in his wake. He watches as Adrian shamelessly dips his face into the opening of your vest, realizing that he would push the younger man out of the way for his own turn if you gave him permission. Rick knows he shouldn't shit where he eats. Rick knows Waller would demote him in a second if she knew he was letting you and your de facto guard dog have special privileges on this mission. Rick knows he shouldn't have taken you up on your offer to play any game, let alone one involving alcohol.  

You seem to whisper something to Adrian, his rum soaked chin between your nimble fingers and he moves away to take his seat again. 

“My turn,” you smirk as you pull the next card from the deck, flipping it to show Rick instead of yourself. 

“Jack of Spades,” he tells you. Your eyes dart to Adrian before you smile at him. That can’t be good. 

“Never have I ever,” Adrian clarifies. Rick squints in confusion.

“I thought Jacks were categories,” he says, challenging the younger man. 

“Well now they’re not,” you chime in, something sweetly venomous in your tone, daring him to keep pressing the issue. Rick is a man that knows when to back down. 

He sighs as he puts up his hand, three fingers ready to go. You and Adrian both put up a hand as well, and you start as the card puller. 

“Never have I ever… fucked Harley Quinn,” you stare him down as you wiggle your fingers, a cheap shot at him. Rick will remember that. 

It’s his turn. 

“Never have I ever… been arrested,” Rick admits, and you narrow your eyes at him as you and Adrian both put down a finger. 

There’s a bit of pride in Rick’s posture as he settles in, all of you now on equal footing. 

“Never have I ever,” Adrian starts, then pauses, biting his tongue between his straight teeth, “Worked for a government that lies.”

It’s clear that was supposed to be a dig at Rick, competition between the two.

“Ade, baby, you’re doing that right now,” you whisper to him in a soothing voice, husky but gentle. His shoulders immediately drop in disappointment. 

“So you drink,” you tell him, nudging his hand holding the glass with your knuckle. He drinks, and puts another finger down, his admittance to defeat this round. 

“Okay, okay,” you draw the attention back to yourself, despite your eyes watching the way Adrian’s adams apple bobs as he swallows. 

“Never have I ever gotten a promotion.”

Again, Rick is the only one to put down a finger. Now he and Adrian have one finger up, and you still have your two. They’re on the same level, something they both have to be painfully aware of as you eye them up like you’ll catch and cook them. 

“Never have I ever gone to prom,” Rick offers quickly, shutting up any giggle that might be on your lips as you put a finger down, now tied with the men. 

“You poor things,” you muse, but Rick can tell you don’t mean it. There’s sarcasm on your tone that makes him think maybe the movie Carrie wasn’t too far off. 

“Never have I ever been an only child,” Adrian says, quickly, like hes trying to throw the whole game away. There’s something about how he shifts in his seat that looks like he’s starting to get antsy of it. 

Only you put your finger down. You’re out first, a fact that surprises you as much as it probably surprises the others as well.

“Shit,” you swear under your breath, and take a quick swig of your drink. 

“What do you want me to do?” you ask, refusing to look at either of them, your scowl settling into your features. Right, the loser has to do something for the winners.

Your file comes to mind for Rick, and your reactions to the failed mayoral race. 

Adrian wordlessly pulls you onto his lap, and your smile returns, if only briefly. 

“Dunno about Rick, but I want you right here,” Adrian tells you, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Well, we can keep playing if you want,” Rick offers, “Y’know, we can all lose… learn a little bit more about each other.”

Anything so he doesn’t have to see that pout again. 

Fuck, Waller’s gonna skin him. 

You shrug, and he figures thats all he’s gonna get. 

“Never have I ever had a secret identity,” Rick offers, and Adrian happily puts his finger down. He’s out too. 

“Never have I ever,” you glance between the two men, and for the first time you look like you didn’t have one loaded in the barrel, “Had… a threesome.”

Rick’s eyebrows shoot up as he too puts a finger down, finally out as well. 

“No way, who?” Adrian asks, and this is maybe the first time Adrian has addressed him personally. 

“A good man doesn’t kiss and tell,” Rick replies.

“Boring,” Adrian says. 

And then he pulls a card, as if the air in the room had not just crackled with tension. 

Queen.

“So its questions?” Rick asks, hoping the rules haven’t changed again.

“Do you finally get it?” you reply, jumping right back into the game. 

“Why did it take you so long?” asks Adrian. 

“How was I supposed to know?”

“Aren’t you military trained?”

“Didn’t you say you knew we were crazy like an hour ago?”

“Hasn’t… ugh… shit,” Rick runs out of steam the questions firing too quickly. 

“Take your shirt off,” you don’t miss a beat, shrugging, “because you lost.”

If you had thought earlier that tonight would have gone as well this, you would have really thought you lost your mind. Adrian twitches, thrusting a little harder into you, an attempt at a poker face forced onto his face. Rick’s eyes trained on you, maybe the same way he trains his eye on a target. 

Rick leans back in his chair, in only his boxers, sweat coating his chest as he does nothing to hide the fact that he’s hard watching this display. 

Adrian lazily rolls his hips into you, your jacket partially obscuring what’s happening, but you know Rick isn’t stupid. He knows Adrian is fucking you, knows your skirt is pushed up in just the right way and your underwear pushed to the side. 

Adrian was barely subtle when he did it, rearranging you on his lap after the latest round of mini games had him losing his own gear and pants. You'd managed to be winning, your jacket and your skirt still on, your boots and vest tossed somewhere behind the chairs. He got handsy, big and warm and calloused against your skin. They traveled under your jacket, down your body, down your skirt. He hitched up. his knee, pushing you further back onto his lap, using his adjusting as an excuse to maneuver himself out of his boxers and under your skirt. You know you faltered, eyes fluttering as his length pushed against you, a shuddering gasp as you felt his hand pull your underwear to the side. 

Adrian, however, acted nonchalant. He joked and took swigs of his drink and talked with you and Rick as if he wasn't playing you like a fiddle, as if he was not positioning you to sit pretty on his cock. 

This is actually only the second time you’ve fucked Adrian. You don’t count hand stuff between the bars or weird touching in the mess hall when you have time out of your cell. You know his cock, but you’re still surprised at how amazing it feels when he fills you, sat on his lap and filled to the brim with him, the only movement his little thrusts pushing even deeper than you thought possible. 

Rick watches like a hawk, and you wink at him as he pulls another card. 

“Eight,” He reveals.

“Pick a date,” You explain.

He points at you, and you lean over to grab your drink. The change in angle makes you moan, and you do so shamelessly. 

“Ade, want me to grab one for you while I’m down here?” you ask, knowing another moan will escape you when you lean back again. 

“Fuckin… Yeah,” Adrian gasps. He’s so cute. 

You grab a card and pull yourself back up, attempting to bite back this moan. You fail as you lock eyes with Rick, something animalistic in his gaze. You shiver. Fuck. You want him too. You tear your eyes away from him to look at the playing card. 

“Ten,” you tell him. 

“Truth or dare! Alright!” Adrian is enthusiastic. 

“Okay, babe, truth or dare?” He asks you. 

“Truth,” you respond, deciding to play it safe at first. 

“Boring!” he exclaims, “ But, are you loving this right now?”

You nod, laughing as you lean into him. Again, Rick is a voyeur. 

“Rick,” you address him, still in Adrian world, still curled into him.

“Yeah?”

“You jealous?” You ask.

He’s silent for a moment, long enough for you to turn and look at him again, this time with hunger in your eyes. 

“Yeah, kinda.”

You laugh, a little too dark to be a giggle, a little too light to have malicious intent. 

“Truth or dare, Adrian?” Rick asks, which surprises you. 

“Truth,” he declares, and punctuates it by rolling his hips up into you again, dragging himself against you, and you bite your lip. A show. 

“Do you consider me a challenge?” he asks. Oh, it’s a dick measuring contest, you realize. 

He contemplates it, and then moves his hand to your face, his thumb on your lip. You open your mouth, taking the digit between your lips, sucking. 

“I don’t know how I could even think of you as a challenge. I mean…” He trails off, his index finger tapping your cheek. 

“Fair enough,” Rick concedes. 

“Truth or dare?” Adrian responds, to Rick, which surprises you. You look between the two men, stilling any motion, like the freeze frame before a fight. 

“Dare,” Rick all but snarls, clearly calling Adrian’s challenge. It's interesting, being fought over like this. People have fought over your resources, your power, your alliance, but never yourself. It's a bit of an ego trip, one that strokes you better than any cock could.

“I dare you to try and show her a better time than I could,” Adrian says, and then looks to you. 

His hips still as his eyes meet yours, a silent as if this is okay? You want this? And maybe, will you still pick me after all of this? His eyes are bright behind his glasses, not shying away from the fact that he’s watching you, his thumb still between your kiss swollen lips. You lead the charge, you let Adrian follow. Strangely loyal, awfully endearing. How is it that you spent your entire life in the Pacific Northwest without passing him earlier? 

You nod, giving him the okay, and take his hand into yours, pulling his thumb from your lips. You swivel your hips, quietly moaning as you resettle yourself in his lap, and let him press a possessive kiss on your neck.

“You sure?” you whisper to him, and he shrugs nonchalantly. Adrian doesn't really seem like the kind of guy that would be okay with this, but if he says so, you cannot deny it. 

Wordlessly, you motion for Rick to approach, and he crosses the room slowly. He gives you a show, his underwear leaving little to the imagination, the light layer of sweat making his muscles shine in the light. Rick smirks at you, easygoing despite how you can see his hand twitching. Is he sure he’s had a threesome before?

You lick your lips as he stops in front of you, and Adrian grabs for your jacket. You stare up at Rick expectantly as Adrian pulls the leather down your arms, baring your chest to the Colonel. His eyes travel down your body shamelessly, committing your body to memory, painting your portrait in his mind.

“So how should we…?” he trails off, not sure how to proceed. Adrian makes a decision for him, though, and puts his hands firmly on your hips. You’re not going anywhere, especially as he fucks up into you, the chair below him creaking. He snaps his hips to claim his place and also yours. You’re not going to fucking move. You gasp, hand reaching back to steady yourself against his firm chest, fingers flexing against his muscles. This doesn't deter Rick, however, who takes another step towards you, stopping just in front of your knees.

“Well?” you ask, expectantly, and his smirk turns into a smile as he huffs out a small laugh. Rick unceremoniously yanks down his boxers, already leaving little to the imagination but still you cannot hide the shock in your eyes when you finally see his cock. 

Rick’s cock is long, handsome as he is, and a delicious shade of pink. You reach out, fingers curling around the base of his cock as you smile up at him. If Rick didn't know better, he’d think you were an angel. Good thing he knows better.

You pump his cock at the same rythm Adrian fucks you, his thrusts and your fist moving in tandem. You’re mesmerized by the way Rick’s brows scrunch up, as if you've unlocked his kryptonite, attention being the thing to break through his attempted cool exterior. Its beautiful. He’s beautiful.

You laugh, lips breaking into a smile, and you bend forward, Adrians grip on your hips changing his angle inside you shifting. He groans behind you appreciatively, and one of his hands gives your ass a slap. Rick flexes, and rolls his shoulders back.

“Do you like that?” you ask him, your voice a seductive whisper. You don't slow your rhythm, you don't look away; Adrian doesnt slow his rhythm, Rick doesnt look away.

“I like you,” Rick responds, just as flirty. You laugh, breathy and light, never breaking eye contact with your commanding officer. You roll your hips, feeling Adrian’s hands tightening on you. 

“Of course you do,” you say with a roll of your eyes, finally breaking the contact. Your hand moves slowly, concentrating on running your thumb up and down the vein on the underside of his cock.

“Want some more?” he asks, stepping between yours and Adrian’s legs, his hand coming up to cup your jaw. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you hear from behind you, Adrian cursing as his hands loosen their grip on your hips. 

You sigh, you should have known this would happen. Adrian doesnt seem like the sharing type, even if Rick is. You release your grip on Rick’s cock, leaning away until you back touches Adrian’s chest. You look up at him, and he doesn't look at you. 

“Adrian?” you coo, voice venomously sweet. 

He grunts.

“Adrian?” you call to him again, voice like a song as you reach up and run a finger along his jawline. 

“What?” he practically spits the word.

“Honey, where is your cock right now?” you ask him gently as if you don’t both know, continuing to run your finger along his jawline, a comforting gesture. 

Finally, Adrian leans into your touch, and his arms wrap around your waist. One hand dips down, and he teases your clit. You gasp, moan turning into a giggle. 

“In this sweet pussy,” he answers. 

“Uh huh, so let Rick play a little. His presence here is an unethical power imbalance and I think he knows that. He’s gonna play nice with me,” you tell him, scrunching your nose at him cutely. You turn your attention back to Rick, raising an eyebrow to silently ask him if he agrees. He smiles slowly, and you reach out for him again.

Rick guides your hand back to his cock, letting you grasp him once more. 

Your teamwork resumes: Adrian You Rick, Adrian You Rick. Adrian setting the speed, the pace, leaning back in the chair for leverage to fuck up into you. Grunt, moan, gasp. Groan, gasp, moan. For the first time since the game started, you can actually hear the music floating through the air from the little radio. Some crooner sets the background for this devil’s threesome unfolding. 

You speed up your movements, breaking the rhythm, and Rick inhales sharply between his teeth, a loud and discordant noise that seems to break the spell. Adrian’s hands seize your hips roughly again, seeking to possess you. 

Fuck.

“Listen, Man,” Rick addresses Adrian awkwardly, his jaw twitching as you speed up your movements even more, your wrist working him over. 

“What, man?” Adrian asks, petulant and sarcastic. You didn't know he knew how to do that. He’s full of surprises, you think. 

“Don't you think I know what's happening here?”

Okay, that makes you pause. Maybe Rick is more perceptive than you originally thought. 

“Your girl here is trying to honey pot me,” he explains, his hand reaching down to adjust your grasp on him, tighter, “Am I right?”

You nod up at him, nervous for once. 

“She figures if she shows me a good time I’ll pull some strings to give you time enough off your sentences so you can be released together,” he explains, and Adrian’s grip on you softens, only to have his rough hand run up and down your side. 

“Are you gonna?” Adrian asks, his desire to be out with you overtaking his desire to comment on an unethical exchange of sexual favors. 

Rick only shrugs.

“Why not?”

That seems to be the only answer both men need, and you breathe a sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding. 

Adrian’s hand dips forward again to find your clit, and your next breath is a shuddering gasp. 

“You wanna be a honey pot?” he asks you, his pressure on your clit increasing, almost painfully. You nod, a needy whine escaping your lips. 

“Then show Colonel Flag how sweet you are,” he commands you, his lips now against the shell of your ear. He speeds up his fingers, panting into your ear as he shallowly thrusts into you, your bodies flush. You feel helpless, a moaning mess losing yourself to your own pleasure, almost embarrassingly so. Your head rolls back onto Adrian’s shoulder, and your over kissed lips part into a dazed smile. You meet Rick’s eyes as Adrian’s movements start to make your body jolt and shake. Your orgasm, rapidly approaching, evident to everyone. 

“C’mon baby,” Adrian encourages you, his fingers digging into your thigh, holding you open as he continues his onslaught, pleasure and pain now one in the same, white heat beginning to seep into the corners of your vision.

Until the dam breaks. Adrian holds you in place, only slowing down to give you slight mercy. Rick watches intensely, his eyes never leaving your face, even as your eyes roll back and your mouth opens in a silent scream, your body wracked with tremors as your orgasm hits you like a flooding storm. Adrian holds you tightly through it all, bringing you back to earth slowly. Your chest heaves, and your eyes meet Rick’s again. 

Sweet enough? You silently ask him, and he smiles, understanding fully. Adrian seems to understand too, as he pulls you up off his lap, hissing at the air hitting his cock, cold compared to the heat of your cunt.

You stand unsteadily, almost dizzy as you use your legs for the first time in over an hour. Rick reaches out for you, pulling you into his arms as you steady yourself, his warmth radiating over you.

“Wanna lay down?” he asks, as if he already knows what you want. Yes, yes of course you do, you nod your head and he leads you over to the little table, pushing all of the discarded deck onto the floor as he gently lays you down. Adrian gets up and joins Rick, standing on the opposite end of the table. You lay back, face to face with Adrian as your spine flattens out against the formica. He smiles at you sweetly, and you return it, before he winks. As if you read his mind, you open your mouth for him, and he leans down and spits between your lips. You smile up at him, eyes full of nothing but adoration. 

“You want my mouth?” you ask him, and he shakes his head no. Rick the voyeur switches places with him, rounding the table until he’s standing next to your head. 

“Stay still,” Rick warns you, his hands gently tilting your head back to lean off the edge of the table. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you obey.

“Don’t,” Rick pauses, grimaces, blushes red as a tomato, “Don’t say that.”

You immediately tilt your head back up, looking for Adrian with wild amusement painted on your features. 

“Did you hear that?” you giggle, snapping your fingers at Adrian from his spot between your legs. He laughs along with you, pointing at Rick, who rolls his eyes. 

“Colonel’s got a Daddy kink!” you laugh, only stopped when Rick pulls your back down, bringing your attention back on him to shut you up.

“You want a taste?” he asks, grasping his cock by the base, and stepping closer to your bruised lips.

You nod, eagerly. The tip of his cock touches your lips, and you gladly part them to let Rick push his cock between them. You push your tongue out to taste him, salty and hot against you, your tongue massaging him as you take him fully into your mouth. Fuck, he feels good in your mouth, just as good as you thought he would. He pushes slowly, whether hes testing the waters or afraid to hurt you, you arent sure. But you want more, no, need it even. He takes a few more shallow thrusts, slow and even and safe.

We can’t have that, now can we?

You grab his hips, thumbs dipping right against his v-line as you pull him closer to you, taking him as deep as you can. Rick gasps, then groans in surprise, his voice strained as he gets used to the sensation of his cock down your throat. 

Adrian, not one to be outdone, only watches the show for a moment before focusing his attention back to your cunt. Which, in his opinion, is only too clothed. 

Adrian pushes your skirt up around your waist, bunching the fabric up ungracefully. His fingers rake down the front of your underwear, wet and twisted and useless now that Adrian had already made a previous mess of them. Impatient to a fault, repositioning you to pull them off smoothly would take too long. 

Your focus is pulled from the heat of Rick’s cock by cool steel against your hip, and without pulling yourself off of Rick you hum, trying to get attention as you ask what the fuck is going on. Rick reaches down to rub his thumb along your chin in comfort.

“Adrian’s got a knife,” Rick explains, and as you feel the elastic of your underwear break, you relax once more. You had told Adrian one night in your cell that you wanted him to do that to you once he got his knives back. He’s a good listener.

 You swivel your tongue along Rick’s cock, the hot velvet soft skin and salty sweat. You hollow out your cheeks, pride blooming in your chest as the commanding officer groans like a much more desperate man.

Adrian’s cock once again presses against your entrance, a key into a lock, and he sinks into you slowly, a loud and blissful moan spilling from his lips. You can only imagine the smile on his face. The same smooth drag, the fullness of him returns to you, and you moan around Rick’s shaft. You feel the shiver up his spine from here. He likes that, you notice, and file it away in your mind to use against him. 

Adrian is not slow and gentle for long, though, quickly picking up speed now that he has the freedom to have you spead out below him like this. 

His hips slamming into you shakes the table, rocking your mouth farther onto Rick’s cock. You gag, sharply inhaling through your nose to try to keep control. You reach out to him, your fingers wrapping around his forearms to stabalize you, so that maybe next time Adrian decides to be rough it wont end with Rick bruising your vocal cords. Rick moves his hands, gripping the edge of the table to keep you in place. Adrian hammers into you, fucking you onto Rick, once again a tandem rhythm between the three of you.

“Jesus, Colonel, is that your dick?” you hear Adrian ask as he presses your thighs farther apart.

“Yep,” You hear Rick confirm, his hand coming off the edge of table to brush his fingertips across your neck, “Pretty little throat your girl’s got.”

“Don’t I know it?” Adrian asks, and that effectively ends their conversation again. You’re glad 

theyre starting to get along. You feel Adrian’s hands running up and down your thighs, massaging his thumbs into the muscles, but you can only be so pliant beneath him when tension builds and pools in your stomach, threatening to bring you over the edge again. 

You try to focus on one or the other. Try to focus on keeping your cheeks hollow and your tongue moving for Rick. Try to focus on not coming again on Adrian’s cock while he teases and manipulates your body. You feel like you're failing though, and falling all the same, your muscles feel weak against both of them, hard and strong, your body filled with white-hot heat like molten lava.

Adrian breaks your thoughts by yanking both of your legs together, your knees knocking together roughly. Heat turning supernova, you moan loud around Rick’s cock, and he himself moans in response. 

“That gonna get you to come for me again?” Adrian asks, laughter in his voice as he places both of your ankles on one shoulder, hugging your legs to his chest. The angle is… divine. Your eyes screw shut tightly, stars bursting behind your eyelids. He’s such a little shit.

You hum affirmatively again around Rick’s cock, and his hips stutter against your face, knocking into your chin.

“Fuck, Doll, you gotta stop doing that,” he sighs, but you can barely hear him. No, you’re focusing to holding onto your sanity. Everything feels so so so much, everything is Adrian and Rick, Adrian and Rick, and you melting between them. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. 

A strangled cry fights its way from your mouth, and a cord snaps within you. You shudder, and Adrian leans down to pin you down even further, slowing down this time to give you a little mercy. He is sweet. He works you through your orgasm slowly, gently pulling it from you, gently letting you back down to earth, gently letting the pleasure crash over you in waves. He thrusts slowly, dragging himself from you before every slow thrust in, taking you apart and putting you back together. You float back down into yourself slowly, held by both of them. Adrian pressed against you and Rick now running his fingers through your hair. 

Rick pulls out slowly, his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and finally you can swallow properly, your sore jaw slack and tired. Adrian presses a kiss to the back of your knee, pulling out as well. You groan at the loss of him, at the heat leaving your body. Then again, at the feeling of goosebumps covering your skin. He lets your legs down gently, your heels coming to rest on the edge of the table as he holds you lazily. 

Rick leans down, eyes dark and lustful, handsome and fully focused on you. He is dangerous. 

“Can I have that honey pot, gorgeous?” Rick asks you, face close enough to kiss. You lean up, craning your neck to do just that. He tastes like rum and vanilla, sickeningly sweet. Your hand reaches up to pull him even closer, your nails raking through his soft hair. Rick’s hand quickly finds your chest, his thumb brushing over your nipple. What a tease, you think. 

He parts his lips from you slowly, eyes staying closed as if savoring the moment to commit to memory. 

“You can have whatever you want,” you whisper, and Rick seems to preen at that. He stands tall again and moves to take Adrian’s place. Adrian doesn't budge though. 

“You gonna…?” Rick trails off, holding out his hand to gesture Adrian to the side. Adrian still doesn't budge, his feet planted to the floor. You roll your eyes, bored of the competition. Men. 

“I think I’m good here,” Adrian shrugs, his fingers idly running up and down the side of your leg.

“Don’t act like she’s not the one that holds your leash, Vig,” Rick shoots back, pointing out a truth, “Everyone sees how you protect her. She's a big girl.”

Adrian visibly deflates, his shoulders drooping. If you didn’t know better, you would think Rick’s gaze is softening in guilt. But you do know better. 

“Don’t worry, babe, you’re the only one that gets to come inside,” you stage whisper to him, looking at Rick the whole time. He gets it and nods instantly in reassurance.

“Better be,” Adrian pouts, “And maybe he should only get you from behind.”

It’s a little petty on Adrian’s part, but you have a bond. The Colonel is an interloper at the end of the night, and Adrian’s comfort is important. 

“I can work with that,” Rick pipes up, slapping a reassuring hand on the younger man’s shoulder, which surprisingly is not shrugged off. Adrian even looks a little surprised at the turn of events, as if he’s used to others making him put up more of a fight to get what he wants.

You turn yourself over, ignoring the ache in your core, dropping onto your feet off the edge of the table to bend over. The cool air hits you, and finally you realize just how wet you are. Fuck. 

Adrian is reluctant as he moves in front of you, but he seems thankful of the shitty table, and the ability to kiss you before he grabs your head to lower it on his shaft. He kisses you softly, holding both sides of your face in his big hands. You press your lips to his eagerly, a salve to whatever hurt his ego feels in this whole situation. You know you’ll hear an earful when you go to sleep next to him later, but you don’t mind. Not when he looks like that.

You’re broken from your thoughts by the feeling of another pair of rough hands; this time finding purchase on your hips. Adrian breaks the kiss somewhat reluctantly, licking the seam of your lips before he pulls away. 

You smile up at him again, and he grabs his shaft, pumping from the base to the tip twice. Like a fucking pornstar. 

“Open up?” he asks, and you oblige, dramatically parting your lips and sticking your tongue out for show. His nose scrunches, his glasses fogging slightly as he laughs through his nose, and he inches closer to you, teasing you with the tip just out of reach. You pout, and then smile as he gives in, resting the fat head of his cock against your tongue.

Rick’s cock brushes against your entrance, only for a moment, and then he pushes his entire length into you with one thrust, filling you entirely. 

You moan, loud and wanton, pushed further onto Adrian’s shaft as well. Both of them fill you, completely.

Rick lingers, savoring the feeling of being fully inside you, holding your hips and your bodies flush together. He pulls himself out again slowly, almost completely, dragging against you, friction that makes you whine, open mouthed and loud around Adrian’s shaft, and his grip on your head only becomes tighter. Rick takes the opportunity to land a hard smack against your ass, hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to make his mark on you the way that Adrian has, hard enough to lay claim to you.

He then begins thrusting in earnest; long, savoring strokes you're sure he will remember later, fucking his fist in the shower. 

The edge of the table digs into the flesh of your thighs, you can imagine the indents they'll leave, a sweet reminder as you're sure it'll be sore to walk tomorrow. He presses into you deep, each thrust harder than the last, each thrust earning him a moan.

You push back against him, arching your back into each of his movements. Adrian moves differently, barely thrusting his hips, small movements while he keeps himself deep in your mouth, his tip kissing the back of your throat with every little push of his hips. 

The room fills with moans, all three of you together harmoniously, hitting your stride. 

“Fucking amazing,” Rick sighs, beginning to speed up his thrusts, his hip bones bumping against your ass.

“Right?” Adrian agrees, his thumb swiping against your cheek. Wet, like the rest of you.

“You’re a lucky man, Vigilante.”

And without warning Rick changes his angle, hips now connecting with the bottom of your ass, and you nearly scream. This new angle… this is… excruciating pleasure. 

He reaches a part of you that your hadn't already known, the tip of his cock brushing against a spot that makes your vision blur. He hits it over and over, your eyes rolling back into your head as your orgasm rushes almost embarrassingly.

You feel yourself tightening around him, feel all of your muscles seizing. You try as hard as you can to keep your jaw where it is for Adrian despite the fact that Rick has the rest of your body curling in on itself.

He speeds up, continuing to hit that spot, hit that place in you. Your toes curl, and you lose your composure quickly, now moaning every time he fills you to the hilt. 

You moan on Adrian’s cock, your throat vibrating around his cock, and at some point he just stops thrusting, enjoying the feeling of you on him in your current state too much.

Rick keeps thrusting, your back arching to the point where your body almost comes off the table, your hips rising almost uncomfortably to meet the angle he has set to make you come beneath him, and expertly so. You're barrelling towards that high, bracing yourself to let yourself go, to go limp around Rick Flag, to show him…

“Fuck,” Rick curses, pulling out harshly. He taps the tip of his cock against your ass a few times, and then sighs deeply.

“You are something else,” he laughs, his free hand running down your hip. Adrian takes this as his cue, and pulls himself out of your mouth too. Unlike with Rick, you whine at the loss of Adrian. You look up at him through your lashes, his smile cocky and excited. 

“You wanna finish the job?” you ask your protector, and he nods eagerly, the smile never slipping.

You turn your attention back to the older man. 

“It’s okay, Colonel,” you coo, your voice once again sweet with that venom, taunting, “You can have my mouth again.”

Rick isn’t going to think twice about it, and he switches places with Adrian to stand in front of you again, gathering your hair in his fist. You lock eyes with him as your tongue darts out of your mouth, a gentle lick to the head of his cock. He shudders, clearly ready. Well, you’re not one to waste time. You pull him in closer by the hips, taking his length back into your mouth. 

He groans appreciatively when the back of your throat meets the tip of his cock again, kissing it. Quick, shallow thrusts this time, less about exploring you and more about an eagerness to meet his end, and to watch you meet your end once again. He holds your head still, fucking your mouth, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have cards to deal as well. 

You swivel your tongue along the vein on the underside of his shaft, mapping it like hills and valleys. 

He’s quick, head thrown back in pleasure and chest heaving. Adrian is not one to be outdone though, and enters you equally as quickly, no show or frills or gentleness this time. He enters you as a means to an end as well.

Both men thrust into you hungrily, chasing a high only given by you. Adrian reaches down, bending his body over you until his fingers reach your clit again, moving with a pace and desperation to make you scream around Rick’s cock. His arm will probably be as bruised as your thighs will be tomorrow morning, but it’s clear he doesn’t care, hammering into you again. 

The tension you felt under Rick comes back almost immediately, your body tensing and curling for Adrian now as he puts himself deep inside you. Rick has to almost work against Adrian, his own thrusts having to fit in the waves and crashes of Adrian’s hips.

Adrian works you over, your body constricting and tensing under Adrian’s generous moans, watches you as you start to lose it.

“That's it babe, show the Colonel how good you are,” Adrian encourages, the pressure of his finger on your clit now almost violent, knowing how ready you are.

“Let go,” Adrian urges, his voice so low and wanting. Instead of you, its Rick that lets go, filling your throat with his release, salty and hot, but easy to swallow. He tastes good, not too much not too little. You swallow him down eagerly, making eye contact the entire time, and you're almost sure he sheds a tear. 

It's seconds later that Adrian makes you come again. 

You shudder, hard and unsexy under him, and entire loss of control, but you hide none of it from Rick. He knows you, or at least he should. Adrian comes shortly after, his release with a groan, and the two of you sink to the floor as a unit, connected, held together. Adrian keeps you close.

Your head shoots up from Rick’s shoulder as if you’ve been burned, your eyes wide as you turn your face towards the pile of his clothes. The Colonel unravels himself from you and the Vigilante, a pile of limbs doused in sweat and spit and salt. His phone vibrates; the case clattering against his belt buckle, the screen a bright intrusion to the dim lights, reflecting off of the rum bottles like christmas lights. Rick stumbles towards it, pulled by duty. Adrian pulls at you by the handful, fully enveloping you in his embrace. One so new and yet already so comforting. You picked right when you set your sights on him. 

Rick bends down to pick up his phone, showing you a great view of that ass of his. You rake your fingernails over Adrian’s bicep, tracing the scar tissue lines across soft freckled skin while you watch what the other man does. 

Rick’s screen illuminates a grimace on his face. Your brows furrow in confusion, and then realization.

“Waller?” you ask, voice partially muffled by how Adrian has himself wrapped around you.

“Yup,” Rick confirms, knowing he’s probably a dead man. 

You and Adrian burst into laughter.

He’s so fucking dead. 

Rick slips on his underwear and leaves the room to take the call. 

[worldly-fluster]

Snapdragon

Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC! Reader

Part 1 of ?

*This will be Non-Canon BTW it starts with Dragon!Sylus and goes into normal Sylus*

Warnings: Blood, cussing...I think that's it lol

**non-mc but will be called MC because it's easier to write than (y/n) every time 👍**

-The Start of Something Normal-

-1st person POV- changes throughout**

Have you ever wondered if there was something...more?

Something other than going to a 9-5 and paying rent with all you earned, there must be something else.

At least I had my games right?

-

Today is weird.

Just weird.

Ever since I woke up from a weird dream, that I can't even remember, I've been randomly smelling flowers.

Checked the LADS game, flowers.

Got ready for work, flowers.

Delt with customers, flowers.

But I'm the only one smelling it?

Maybe it's the stress, I'll just have to take melatonin when I get home.

-

As I walked through the front door of my apartment, coming home after a long day at work, I was greeted by dark silence. I hate living alone...

I sighed as I placed my keys on the shelves by my door and threw my heavy jacket on top of them. I limped slightly into my living room/kitchen, my feet hurting from standing all day. When I reached the couch, my nose was assaulted by the smell of flowers once again causing me to groan.

"What the fuck... Bruh." I plopped down on the cheap leather futon with a weeze, reaching for the bottle of melatonin gummies I threw on there the other night.

Popping two into in my mouth, I grabbed the iPad next to the bottle and opened up the Love and Deepspace app.

I smiled when I saw Sylus show up immediately on the screen, my heart doing a badump as I sang quietly along to the intro.

Finally getting onto the game, I went to the daily login that I forgot to get this morning, ignoring Zayne standing there in his Panda onesie.

After completing the normal, I didn't know what to do, so I went to check the memories. Only then did I remember I never actually watched the new Dragon Sylus cards...

From what I heard about them it seemed traumatizing. But I guess if I had nothing else to do?...I'm gonna regret it aren't I.

The smell of flowers hit my nose again, even stronger than before, when I tapped the first one I saw called 'Abyssal Blossom'.

As the memory loads, the iPad glitches and shuts off. Maybe I forgot to charge it and it died? The smell of flowers is almost overwhelming, as if I'm standing in a field full of them.

I started feeling tired, so tired that I could hardly stand up so I decided to just sleep for a while on the futon. I fell asleep quickly.

-

This dream?...felt familiar...and too real.

The scent of the flowers made more sense here, the field looking familiar...oh its almost exactly like the flower field you can see in one of Sylus' Dragon cards.

What was the name of it again? Abyssal something...

Oh whatever, these flowers are nice. The scent kinda comforts me, almost like a mix of vanilla citrus? With a slight hint of herbal lavender I think... I don't know I'm bad with identifying stuff.

This dream is quite detailed though, the flowers, the dirt, the nice cool breeze and warm rays of sun on my skin...wait, what's that? Looks like something flying in the sky? A big bird maybe...it's coming closer? Oh shit, what the fuck-?!

The air was knocked out of my lungs as I was picked up and yoinked through the air.

"Are you here to try to kill me?"

I blinked up at the...man? Are we flying??

"No?"

I wheezed out my answer, it sounding more like a question in my shock as I clung onto him. The man? narrowed his eyes at me.

Are those red eyes? And horns? Why does he look like Sylus?? Wait, Dragon Sylus???

He seemed to search my face for something, his own relaxing a bit as he found what he was looking for.

"Then why are you in my territory?"

"I don't know, I just woke up here..."

"Woke up here? Who, in their right mind, would come into my territory for any reason?"

"I don't know...I just remember falling asleep at home and waking up in this field. It's beautiful by the way."

"Hm..."

"What should I call you? I'm MC."

"...Stayrus*" (Something that sounds similar lol)

"...How about Sylus?"

"Do what you want. It'll be up to me whether I answer or not."

"So...where are you taking me?"

"To my home, where I will be keeping an eye on you."

"Oh okay."

"Don't get any ideas human. I'm bored and I have been waiting for something interesting."

"I mean, I figured. No one just goes out and picks up a random stranger without being a little bored."

He grunts as he continues flying through the sky.

He brought me to a cave opening at the top of a deep canyon, he sat me down and lightly pushed me inside.

"You will be staying here until I say so."

"Alrighty. Any rules?"

"No...you are oddly okay with this."

"Well," I shrug, "it's either this or fend for myself in an unfamiliar place outside."

-

"Sylus?"

"..."

"Um...Stayraytus??"

"That was terrible."

"Sorry..."

"..." He sighs, "What is it?"

"So...I have zero survival skills...can you teach me how to survive here? Please?"

"...child."

"Yes...sorry."

-

It's been about a week since Sylus, yes he started answering to it, let me stay in his 'home'. He started teaching me some survival things, like how to find food, telling me to ask him first if the thing is edible. Other than that, it was...boring.

In my boredom, while Sylus lay on the cool cave floor surrounded by gold, I started stretching.

Touching my toes, bending to the side, balancing on one foot like a flamingo...you name it, I was trying to do it.

I was in the downward dog position when Sylus spoke.

"What are you doing?"

"...yoga?"

"...yugo."

"Pffft-" I couldn't help but laugh a bit, "it's Yo-gah."

"...why are you doing whatever that's called?"

"It's so my body doesn't get stiff."

"...how old are you?"

"23."

"..."

"...Don't you dare say it."

Sylus grunted as he went back to messing with his golden lamp thing.

After a bit of silence he spoke.

"I'm 27."

I looked up at him in a little surprise.

"Really? You look my age honestly."

"hm."

-

We were sitting by the entrance of the cave, watching the sunset, when Sylus broke the silence.

"Your hair..."

"What's wrong with my hair? Is there knots? I swear I got them all out earlier..."

"No, it's just different."

"What do you mean?"

"everyone I've ever seen had lighter hair...yours is darker. It's...pretty."

My face felt hot as I turned away from him.

"Oh, thank you...no one's said that about me before."

"Why not?"

I shrug.

"I'm sure that you get called pretty, beautiful, every time someone sees you, I mean, you're pretty attractive...I'm going to shut up now..."

There was a bit of silence until he spoke, looking over my face.

"No one has ever called me any of those things before..."

"Oh...well I still think you are. Those people are just blind."

"...Thank you."

I smile at him.

"Any time."

A comfortable silence settled over us but I couldn't take my eyes off of him if I tried. His hair looked so soft and fluffy...

"Hey Sylus?"

"Hm?"

"Can I...touch your hair?"

He looked questioningly at me, one of his brows raised.

"Why?"

"It looks so soft, but you don't need to say yes. I was just curious."

Sylus looked to the side, seeming to think for a moment before he looked down with a small smile, giving a small nod before he lay stretched out and placed his head on my lap, careful of his horns.

I let out an excited hum as I carefully ran my fingers through his hair, my nails slightly scratching his scalp. He grunted, not really used to this type of contact but...he thinks he can get used to this.

Sylus closed his eyes as he felt your hands work their way through his hair, around the base of his horns gently and lightly rubbing behind them in the hard to reach places. His chest felt warm, his heart fluttering as all he could think about were your hands, the warmth of your thighs...

He could definitely get used to this.

-

It seemed winter was fast approaching as the cave seemed to get colder, frost covering the edges of the entrance. I sat snuggled into Sylus' side.

"...What are you doing?"

"It's cold, it's called cuddling for warmth."

"... do as you wish."

His tail gently curled around us, pushing me just a bit closer.

"...it is getting colder out. We'll have to get you something warmer."

"Ah, don't worry about it. You're warm enough so I'll just have to stay right here."

Sylus grunted, his tail wrapping just a bit tighter. Just enough for me to notice.

-

The next day, Sylus was gone for a little while. I had to stay warm by my own makeshift fire, the dry sticks that were just by the edge of the cave entrance being my fuel.

While I waited for Sylus to get back I watched as the smoke went up through a small hole in the ceiling of the cave, wondering, how long have I been here? Where he could have gone? ...how much longer will I be allowed to stay?

After just a few more minutes, I heard the sound of his powerful wings as he landed at the entrance. He was holding a big bundle of... something.

He walked over to me and just, dumped what he was holding onto my head.

"Mph?!"

"This should work."

His tail moved the pile of burning sticks to the side before I could accidentally fall onto it with his gift still suffocating me.

Seeing me still struggling with it, he chuckled and plucked one blanket off my head letting me poke my head out of the pile.

"Guh! Why you do this?"

"English Sweetie."

"What is this?"

"Blankets, for warmth."

"...Thank you Sylus."

"Hm. Now scooch over, I'm cold."

"You're literally a walking furnace?"

"... I'm cold."

"Just say you wanna cuddle."

"...cuddle me."

-

As winter gave way to spring, the flowers started blooming again. The change in temperature seemed to make Sylus stir crazy.

I let out a squeal as his thick tail wrapped around my waist and pulled me along.

"Sylus! No!"

"Sylus yes."

"No!"

"Do you want to see the flowers or not?"

"...fine. But if you drop me, I will haunt you."

-

After a short flight, Sylus landed at the field of flowers he found me in. I looked around, having not had the chance to fully look around before being whisked away, when I saw something that made me gasp.

"Oh! Look, there are Snapdragon's!"

I moved towards them, Sylus staying close to my side.

"What? There aren't any other dragons here."

"No not actual dragons, Sy, they're a type of flower."

I move so he could see it better.

"This is a snapdragon!"

"That looks nothing like a dragon."

"It kinda does, see? This is it's eyes, nose, horns, and this!"

I push the sides of the flower together, making a small opening into the flower.

"Is it's mouth! Cool right?"

"... dragons don't open their mouth just because you touch their cheeks."

"These ones do. Try it! It's fun."

"Fine."

I watched as he moved his claws around the flower, actively trying not to damage it, but failing.

"Sylus you have to be gentle." I giggle as he accidentally crushes the flower between his claws.

"Here, use the pads of your fingers instead."

I hold his hands as I help him gently open the Snapdragon's mouth. His breath seemed to stutter as he let me guide his hands.

"There, you did it!"

"Hmm..."

In a small burst of confidence, I giggle and lift my hands to his face where I gently press on his cheeks.

"Good job!"

His eyes widen slightly and out of reflex, or shock, his mouth slightly opens.

"You know, you're my big Snapdragon."

-

After we made our way back to the cave, I had a thought.

"What if I end up going back some day?"

"Back where?"

"My home, like how I woke up here, will I one day wake up back home?"

Sylus seemed to stiffen a bit as he looked towards me, eyes searching my face.

"...do you want to go back home."

"I don't know, some days I miss home but most days I forget."

"I understand...what if you never go back?"

"Then I hope you'll let me stay?"

"I'll be here."

There is a long comfortable silence as we watch the sunset from the mouth of the cave once again. I took in a big breath of the freshest air I'll ever have and enjoy the moment.

"Sylus? Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"If I do end up leaving somehow, I want you to find things that make you happy, not just surviving but living."

His tail flicks a bit behind us.

"...fine, as long as you promise the same."

-

A few days later we were at the flower field once again.

The sun set and we continued to sit amongst the flowers after a long day of lazing around. The stars slowly came out one by one.

While I watched the stars it reminded me of a song that gets stuck in my head.

"You and I stargazing...intertwining souls..."

I quietly sang, trying not to disturb the quiet night.

While I looked at the stars and the moon that hung beautifully, Sylus looked my way with a slightly raised brow, curious.

"What's that?

He whispered his question, his rough voice surprisingly soft.

I gave a small hum, still looking at the night sky.

"it's a song from my home... sitting here under the stars reminded me of it."

"Hm..."

"You know...the moon is very beautiful tonight."

"...yeah, it is."

He couldn't seem to look away from you, watching the moon and stars that reflected in your eyes.

-

I heard birds chirping as I slowly woke up from a comfortable sleep, feeling warm. I could smell flowers still. I tried to turn but a weight on my side stopped me.

I heard a deep grunt as the weight tightened around me and pulled me closer. A second weight being added onto my legs, seeming to curl around and in between them.

I groggily opened my eyes to be met with a familiar shiny red jewel, just barely grazing my nose. I moved my hands up from their place by my stomach up to the jewel. I leaned my face into the jewel and snuggled closer.

I could feel a soft rumbling coming from the dragon I was cuddled to, having realized it was him from the warmth he gave me.

"It seems we fell asleep..."

His voice was deep from sleep, his clawed hands pulling me closer. The scent of flowers being drowned out by his smell. Scent like a bonfire and leather.

"We're still in the field?"

"Yeah...I didn't want to wake you."

I felt his warm breath on the top of my head, taking in my own scent.

He...he's definitely used to this. He never wants to let you go. You gave him a warmth he thought he would never receive, showed him care and treated him not as the monster everyone screams he is. With you, he's not a Fiend. He's Sylus, your Snapdragon.

-**

It was only a few moments...

That's all it took.

One second, you both were walking through the field towards home when there was a sharp sound. Sylus reacted almost immediately, dodging the claymore that sliced into the dirt where he was just seconds ago.

He barely let out a breathe before the assailant attacked again. He dodged once more before he heard.

"Sylus! Help!"

His head snapped towards the direction of your voice. What he saw made his blood boil. You were being pinned to the ground by a big burly, ugly, man.

"I got you!"

In his moment of distraction, the one attacking him hit him with something like magic. Golden chains wrapped around him, pinning him down. He heard a laugh as a woman walked into his sight, she was a sorceress and she had an overconfident smirk on her face.

"Time to face your fate, Fiend!" She laughed out, "honestly, I thought you were stronger than that. How disappointing."

"Fate?! What fate?!"

Sylus heard you struggling, making him start to struggle as well so he can get you out of here.

"Now now," the sorceress tutted towards him, then turned towards you, "His fate is to die by my claymore. Simple."

"That's his fate?! Bullshit!"

"You can't change fate-"

"Like fuck I will!"

You cut her off, just as you knocked the large man off of you with a quick kick to the groin. When you were free you threw yourself between her and Sylus.

"Just watch me."

You smirked as you watched her eyes widen and she took a step back.

"MC! No!"

Sylus struggled with the golden chains of magic holding him down.

"Don't worry Snapdragon...I got this."

"Stop! This is not-"

"Too late, already did."

-**

I grunt as the claymore goes through my chest, I can feel the intense pain for only a moment before it seems to disappear. The claymore is lodged in my chest, a ringing going through my ears. Sylus' eyes widen as it feels all the air is taken from his lungs when he sees the end of the claymore exit your back.

"MC!"

"Hahaha! Now what are you going to do Fiend?!"

"I'm going to fucking kill you!"

I heard a growl and the sound of something breaking but my mind goes a little fuzzy as a fight rages on, roars of anger and grunts reach my ears along with the sounds of a blade and claws. I could faintly hear the sound of tearing flesh.

All I could do was stare at the claymore still embedded in my chest, my hands too shaky and weak to pull it.

For a moment I thought the last things I would hear was the fight until-

"MC-"

Sylus slides over to me, his bloodied claws gently holding me. His wounds are already healing over as his panicked eyes look me over.

"MC, she's gone, you don't have to worry now. I got you."

"Sy..."

"Shit..." His voice grew hoarse, his eyes and hands shaking slightly as he tried to figure out a way to help. He seemed to find an idea as his brow set in determination.

"We need to resonate, my healing could help you but we need to resonate, now."

I nod slightly and he grabs my hand gently with one of his as his other gently tries to remove the claymore. I could feel his claws shake a little as he closed his eyes but I didn't want to close my eyes yet. I didn't want it to be the last time I did, so I watched as his power and a power I didn't know I had, connected. When I concentrate I can feel his anger, his fear, and something else I couldn't place. I watched as the claymore fell out of sight, his now free hand coming up to cup my face.

He leaned closer, our foreheads lightly touching.

I could almost feel my flesh mend, but the pain was numb to me as I kept my eyes on his face. I saw his brows furrow, his lips thin in what looks like pain-our shared pain, his eyes stayed closed in concentration.

After a moment more, I felt complete. I let out a sigh as the resonation slowly disappeared, my eyes fluttering closed a moment before I fixed them onto him. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, his nose grazing mine as his eyes locked on mine.

"You aren't going anywhere. Not without me. We live together and we die together. Only you can kill me, and I you."

There is a slight glow to his eyes and the gem in his chest as he stares into my eyes, into my soul.

"Sylus-"

"You're stuck with me. Who else will teach me about your home?"

I shake my head with a giggle.

"What would I do without my Snapdragon?"

"Hm..."

"I'd probably die."

He glared at me for even joking about it, his hand gripping mine a little harder. The hand on my cheek pressed against me, forcing my forehead to press onto his a little more.

"Even if I wasn't here, I would do everything to make sure you stay by me."

"That doesn't even make sense." I laugh.

"You know what I mean." He smiles as you bring a hand to his face, rubbing your thumb of his cheek to get some dirt off. He leaned into your touch, his eyes full of warmth as he continued to stare into your eyes.

After a moment I pull away and stand, Sylus standing as well. I look around at the now destroyed field, a pang of sadness hits my heart...

As both of us take in the aftermath, an oddly familiar scent hits my nose...when suddenly my body starts to glow slightly.

"Wait, Sylus what's happening?"

"I don't know, come here."

This feeling I get from the soft glow feels familiar...my eyes widen when I realize, the smell...

"Sylus!"

"MC?!"

We reach out to each other but the moment his clawed hand touches my hand, a bright light shines and I'm gone.

-**

Nothing is left of her as the light completely disappates

"MC?!"

Sylus turns this way and that, wanting- needing to see just a glimpse of her. His tail whipping around wildly as he floats around in a panic, clawed hands reaching for something, anything.

"MC!...Where..."

Sylus stops for a moment, slowly landing on the cold ground beneath him before collapsing to his knees.

He throws his head back as he lets out the most broken yell that could be heard for miles.

He looked to the side when he ran out of breath, his chest heaving as he let out a whimper. He saw that claymore, laying coldly on the dirt. Your blood still covered it, your scent still on it...

A few tears fell from his eyes as he reached out and gripped the handle. He pulled it towards him, curling around it slightly on the ground.

He lay there for what felt like forever to him, in the very flower field he met you...the flowers mostly crushed by the ambush of the sorceress that was sent to kill him with this very claymore.

When he finally had the energy to move, he went back to your shared cave, claymore in hand. Seeing the entrance made his flight stutter, knowing you won't be there to welcome him home...

He landed at the opening, he stepped heavily inside.

He saw your pile of blankets, the small fire pit you built, the little trinkets you collected from his horde that he let you have...

He stabbed the claymore into his old sleeping place then made his way towards the small stream that runs through the edge of the cave. He used the water from the steam to clean the blood off of him, yours, his, that damned sorceress...

After he was cleaned and dried off with the cloth you used to use, he made his way to your pile of blankets.

Sylus collapsed into them, burying himself in your scent, a wine leaving his throat as he held tightly onto what was left of you.

The dragon is lost without his master...