#so i can't speak to any actual players

[cementcornfield]

we're officially in combine week! if you're at all interested in starting your Draft Research now 🤓

[the-physicality]

can i just say something about sports reporting? i ned them to stay in their lane. talk to me about tactics and stats for teams and players. ps don't try to contribute to the discourse. i hate the discourse.

[gothamphantomgoat]

[charmedimsure]

Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.

thank you and happy new year <3

*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)

THE THREE OF US || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader

summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.

word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)

warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 2: After the Games

The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.

Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."

The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"

The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"

"Class 946, sir!"

Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."

Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."

Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."

Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."

All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.

<>

"Time for team selection is up."

You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.

"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."

Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"

You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.

His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"

You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."

You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.

Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."

390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"

You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?

388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."

You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.

390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."

Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"

You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."

390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."

As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.

"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."

You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."

388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."

Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.

You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.

"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.

With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."

Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.

Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."

You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.

"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."

You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.

"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."

"Victory at all costs!"

<>

The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.

The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.

The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.

The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.

Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.

"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"

A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.

Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.

"Old hag! What are you doi-"

Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.

You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.

"Rotten bitch!"

All five pieces end up in her hand.

"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.

044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.

A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.

"Oh shit," you say under your breath.

Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.

Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.

It's done! They did it!

The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.

The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.

As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."

You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.

"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"

"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."

390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"

The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.

When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.

You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.

As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"

"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.

388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.

390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."

Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.

He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.

"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"

As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."

You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.

As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"

Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.

"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."

You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.

"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"

You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.

001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.

Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.

Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.

456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."

001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.

You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.

456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.

One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...

You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.

"Pass."

You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.

As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.

The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.

"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."

You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.

As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.

001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"

You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."

Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.

"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."

Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."

"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."

Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.

Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"

You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."

"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."

001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

You nod. "Okay."

"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.

"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.

A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.

You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.

"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"

"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."

You smile and nod in thanks.

"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.

Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"

You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.

With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."

"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.

He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."

"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."

Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"

Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."

The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"

"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."

You shake your head. "No, that's okay."

"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."

You thank him as you take the milk.

Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."

You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.

"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.

Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.

<>

"Pass it to me."

The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.

"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."

"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.

"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"

"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."

"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."

Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."

Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.

"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."

The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.

<>

After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.

He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.

"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"

You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."

Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.

"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"

You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."

Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.

"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."

"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."

"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.

"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"

Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.

"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.

The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"

He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."

You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."

He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."

"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."

"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."

You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."

He smiles at you. "Goodnight."

You smile back. "Goodnight."

For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.

<>

You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.

"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.

You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"

Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."

"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."

Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

"Let the game begin."

The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.

"Ten."

Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.

Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"

"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.

"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.

A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"

Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"

The two groups go running off towards a door.

"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.

"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.

"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"

"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.

You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.

Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.

Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"

"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.

"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.

You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.

Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.

Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.

"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."

"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."

Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"

You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."

Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"

"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.

After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"

Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."

You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.

The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.

Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.

"Now, the final round will begin."

The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.

"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.

"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.

"Why?"

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."

"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.

You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."

The platform stops and the lighting dims.

"Two."

Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.

You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.

Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.

The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.

"Can I do something really stupid?"

Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"

You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.

For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.

You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."

You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.

The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.

Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck

Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!

[sugoroo]

ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, reader plays volleyball, masturbation, oral (f receiving), obsessive behaviour, boobjob, penetration (p in v), 18+ minors dni.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who decides you're going to be his the very first time he sees you playing volleyball on the beach with your teammates wearing those pitiful scraps of material that can hardly be classified as a bikini.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who makes sure to pick up any and every extra shift he can just so he can figure out exactly what times you come down to the shore to practise.

pervy lifeguard!gojo whose new favourite pastime is just to sit in his lookout post, barely paying attention to the water to keep an eye on anybody who may be in potential danger — no, lately, his gaze always seems to be fixed squarely upon you.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't help but push his sunglasses up to rest in his hair so he can get a clearer view of you as you move around the sand, the way your scantily-clad body moves whenever you jump to hit the ball over the net just hypnotizing the poor man.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to disregard his duties completely to duck into a nearby beach hut when it becomes too much to just watch you, furiously fisting his leaking cock to the delicious mental image of your ass bouncing as you played.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who emerges from the hut looking like an utter mess, snowy locks dishevelled and swimming trunks hanging low on his hips as he stumbles back over to his lookout post. his strange behavior even grants him a few curious look from nearby beachgoers, but he couldn't care less.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who finds his hands clenching into tight fists by his sides when he observes one of the boys from the opposing volleyball team shaking your hand after a match. it's just a sign of mutual respect between players —  he knows that.

but that doesn't mean it irritates him any less.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who finally gathers the confidence to actually approach you later that afternoon while you're packing up your things, idly scratching the back of his undercut while he tries to think of a normal way to start a conversation.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who doesn't have to speak at all in the end, because you say the first words for him, greeting him with that pretty little smile of yours that he's only been able to see from afar up until now and outstretching a hand for him to shake.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't help but let a pleased grin spread across his lips while he returns the gesture, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction rising in his chest that his own touch on your palm has erased that previous guy's.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who falls even harder for you (if that's possible) during the few minutes he talks with you. it's nothing more than a friendly interaction between two regular beachgoers, but to him, it's one of many more to come.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who feels like he could do an embarrassing victory dance on the sand right then and there when you casually mention an upcoming volleyball competition that you'll be playing in. so you want him to be there, huh?

he nonchalantly responds that he might just be able pop by and watch some of it during his break — as if he isn't already planning on completely abandoning his post in favour of spectating the entire match instead.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is so full of excitement during the week leading up to the tournament that he just can't keep quiet about it for even a single second. his poor bestfriend lifeguard!geto is beginning to feel like he's the one with the giant, pathetic crush on you at this point.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who would most likely be fired if his boss was to see him right now, sprawled across a bench and watching you compete at volleyball instead of looking out for drowning children in the waves.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is sporting a not-so-subtle tent in his swimming trunks as he sits there, which he tries in vain to hide by crossing his legs over his lap. i mean, can you really blame him? just look at the way those doughy tits of yours jiggle in that downright sinful bikini top!

pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to clench his jaw to stop from snapping various profanities at the nearby beachgoers who have stopped in their tracks just to witness the match — he's not oblivious, he can see them checking you out just as he is.

but it's different when he does it. why? because you're going to be his soon enough. don't they understand that?

pervy lifeguard!gojo who isn't surprised in the slightest when your team easily triumphs over the other. after all, the opposing team doesn't have you on it. and although he knows little to nothing about volleyball, he can easily declare that you must be the best at it.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who would ideally like to run up to you and gush about how well you performed, but due to the very visible... problem in his trunks, ends up darting into the nearest beach hut for the second time this month to relieve himself because of you.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is halfway through sloppily jerking his hips up into his closed fist when sunlight suddenly starts to flit through the gap in the door — shit, he was so worked up he forgot to even close it.

rookie mistake, satoru.

pervy lifeguard!gojo whose eyes widen to the size of saucers when he realizes it's you who just walked in through the doorway, shutting it gently behind you. he's about to start furiously apologizing for what you stumbled in on when he notices you don't seem nearly as shocked as you probably should be.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who can only watch in stunned silence as you slowly saunter closer to him, your hands hidden behind your back as they easily untie the strings of your bikini top before letting it fall to the floor.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who releases what can only be described as a pornographic moan at the sight of your freed breasts, his neglected cock twitching beneath his hand as he ogles you without shame. if he had any self-awareness left, he might've been embarrassed of the small trickle of drool oozing from his slackened mouth.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who feels his cheeks flush a shade of red brighter than the leaking tip of his bobbing cock when you purr to him... "do you really think i haven't noticed you checking me out for these past few weeks, mr lifeguard?"

pervy lifeguard!gojo who somehow finds himself living out a scenario lewder than the wildest of wet dreams he's had about you, his jittery hips thrusting erratically between your tits as you keep them pressed together for him with your hands.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who reaches what is undoubtably the fastest orgasm of his life, his sunglasses toppling from his head as it falls back in bliss, messy white locks stuck to his forehead with sweat as he releases a series of broken groans and whimpers.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who immediately joins you on your knees once he's come down from his euphoric high, long pink tongue lolling out to lap up every drop of sticky cum he split on your pretty tits, sucking and nipping at every inch of supple skin within reach.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who just can't stop yapping, going on and on about how perfect you are, how you've been on his mind for what feels like forever, how sexy you look when you're hitting around that volleyball.

it seems the only way to actually shut pervy lifeguard!gojo up is to shove his beautiful face between your legs, the only sounds leaving him now being mewls of enjoyment as he mouths at your saccharine taste through your bikini bottoms.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is already too lost in you to properly remove the material keeping him from your pussy, instead lazily yanking it to the side with a single finger so he can dive nose-deep into your sweet cunt like he's been dreaming about doing for weeks.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is just so messy with it, practically making out with your dripping hole as he rapidly delves his tongue in and out, moaning so shamelessly you'd think he was the one getting eaten out and not you.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who makes you cum using only his sloppy mouth so many times neither of you even know just how long you've been cooped up in this beach hut where there's a real possibility that someone could walk in at any given moment.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't hold himself back from fucking you anymore — he's waited long enough already, after all. so he's effortlessly manhandling you onto your back as he pushes in, eyes locked onto the sight of your tits still glistening with his saliva and cum from earlier.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who buries his face between the valley of your breasts as he ruts into you like a rabid animal, word after word of slurred praise failing from his lips as he looks up you with those wide, lovestruck cerulean eyes.

god, he's so fucking obsessed with you. getting to finally feel you like this was just the last nail in the coffin.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who somehow cums even harder than his previous climax, the overwhelming sensation of the tight, spongy walls of your cunt pulling him back in over and over again just unravelling his hazy mind with ease.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to psychically stop himself from letting out a choked whisper of 'i love you' as he spills his milky seed right into your womb where his cockhead is lodged, seemingly having enough awareness left to know that it's much too soon for that.

instead, pervy lifeguard!gojo settles for fixing you with a dopy grin so wide that both rows of his glinting pearly whites are on full display, murmuring a cheeky... "what do you say we make this a routine after every competition, pretty baby?"

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

pervy yoga instructor!geto <- PREVIOUS.

pervy electrician!toji -> NEXT.

[prokopetz]

Something that pops up in my notes from time to time is folks thinking I'm being excessively kind in my criticisms of Dungeons & Dragons, and I'm going to spin this off into a separate thread to address that without putting anyone on the spot.

First, if your own critique of Dungeons & Dragons is rooted in the idea that it's the Worst Game Ever, that speaks more to the limits of your experience than it does to anything else. Dungeons & Dragons in any of its iterations is far from the worst the tabletop roleplaying hobby has to offer – like, you have no fucking idea!

Second, I tend to be even-handed in my discussion of D&D's rules because, fundamentally, the rules are not the problem – or, at least, not the principal cause of the problem.

In many ways, the indie RPG sphere has never escaped the spectre of Ron Edwards, sternly pronouncing that the mechanical process of playing traditional RPGs causes actual, physical brain damage, and that this brain damage is responsible for the bad behaviour we often observe at the table. We don't say it that way anymore, but on some level a lot of us indie RPG designers still kind of believe it.

This is understandable. As game designers, we're naturally inclined to think of problems at the table as game design problems. When we see a problematic culture of play, our impulse is to frame it as something which emerges from the text of the game, and which can therefore be mitigated by repairing the text of the game.

Confronted with the obvious toxicity of certain facets of D&D's culture of play, we go combing through its text, looking for something – some formalism, some structure, some piece of rules technology – which we can point to and say: "this is it; this is where the brain-worms live."

The trouble is, this is not in fact where the brain-worms live. Certainly, the text of a game, particularly a very popular one, can have some influence on the game's surrounding culture of play, but that text is in turn a reflection of the culture of play in which it was written. The Player's Handbook isn't an SCP object, spewing infectious infohazards everywhere when you crack open the cover – hell, I'd go so far as to say that many of the problems of D&D's culture of play operate in spite of the game's text, not because of it!

Basically, what I'm saying is that I don't see any contradiction between being the sort of pretentious knob who writes one-page indie RPGs about gay catgirls talking about their feelings (which I am), and speaking favourably about this or that piece of rules tech from whatever flavour of Dungeons & Dragons is in favour this week (which I do), because I recognise that you can't game-design your way out of a problem you didn't game-design your way into.

The fact that one of the biggest problems facing the tabletop roleplaying hobby is something that can't be repaired by fucking around with dice-rolling procedures is a bitter pill to swallow for a lot of indie game designers, and I won't say I wasn't resistant to it myself, but it's something that's both useful and necessary to accept.

(None of this means that the text of Dungeons & Dragons in any of its incarnations is beyond criticism on other grounds, of course, and I've never been shy about highlighting those criticisms where they're warranted. The only way you're gonna arrive at the conclusion that I'm some sort of D&D apologist is if you're starting from the presumption that The Real Problem Is The Rules.)

[samzzarella]

Closer 😩

~pairing: se-mi / player 380 x fem!reader

~ fluff, drunk se-mi, confessions

Se-mi still hadn’t called you back. You sighed, tucking your phone away. Unwilling to chase her, you hadn’t gone further than a missed call and a few texts. But you couldn’t get her out of your mind, couldn’t stop thinking about the things you’d overheard her saying to Min-su

°°••....••°°

The night before, you’d gone to hang out at Nam-gyu’s with a couple of friends. Se-mi had been acting weird for the past few days, distant. She hadn’t been spending any time with you, or looking you in the eye. She was your best friend, and you had hardly spoken to her properly in a week. You decided not to confront her and cause a scene in front of everyone, and instead did your best to distract yourself. You chatted with Thanos, because at the very least conversations with him were pretty entertaining. You drank and laughed, letting all thoughts of your best friend seep out of your mind.

But of course, it didn’t last long. You were helping Nam-gyu refill everyone’s drinks when he asked you, “Where did Se-mi go? Could you find her and ask her if she wants a refill? Yeah and that Min-su too”. You really didn’t want to, but if you refused, you knew he would start asking questions that you did not have the energy to answer.

You begrudgingly headed up the stairs to find them, eventually seeing them having a tense conversation in the darkened hallway. You could’nt hear the words she was saying, but it didn't seem like they were fighting. You stayed out of sight, creeping a bit closernto hear what they were saying, figuring that the conversation must be about you.

“I just, ugh I don't know what to do? I mean, she’s my best friend, you know, and these stupid feelings just make things too complicated. If she knew how I felt I’m sure she would hate me. She would never talk to me again. I can't risk that. You know I’m not a coward. Telling her… would just make things worse. But I just can’t bear to be around her knowing that she won’t ever feel the same. I mean, have you seen the way she looks at that co-worker friend of hers. That stupid guy, I just hate him”, she was speaking faster than you could keep up with. What was she talking about? She liked you? You could hardly believe it, someone like her having feelings for you and being so overwhelmed by those feelings that she hadn’t even realized yours. The only reason you had brought a friend from work for a gathering was to make her jealous, but it seemed to have worked too well. She thought you actually liked him?

You couldn’t keep listening to this. “Se-mi?”, you couldn’t keep the surprise out of your voice. She spun around when she heard you, her expression painted with horror. “Did you hear all that?”, her jaw clenched, her piercing gaze shattering any will you had to confront her. In this situation, how were you supposed to tell her that you too had feelings for her? Before any words could come out of your mouth, Min-su interjected, “What’s up? Are the others calling us?” You sputtered out a yes, and Min-su hurriedly pulled Se-mi with him down the stairs, unwilling to be in the middle of whatever was brewing between you too. You stood there stunned for a few minutes before heading downstairs youself.

Se-mi was pulling on her jacket. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you guys later”, she didn’t meet your gaze as she slammed the door shut behind her. Ever clueless, Thanos asked you, “What happened?”

“Um, nothing. I dunno”. You were grateful that Min-su didn’t say anything either.

You couldn’t bear to be there a second longer and decided to just head home. When you reached your apartment, you immediately called Se-mi, but she hadn’t picked up. She’d even ignored your texts. There was nothing you could do but wait for her to reach out.

°°••....••°°

Your phone ringing shook you out of your thoughts. She finally called you back! And you could tell her everything and… nope it was just Thanos. Rolling your eyes, you picked up, your tone uninterested when you answered. But upon hearing the worry in his voice you were instantly on high alert. “Listen, you have to get here right now. I don’t know what you did to my girl Se-mi, but she’s turnt. I legit have never seen her like this”, he was, for some reason, almost rapping this information to you, and your brain was struggling to keep up with how fast he was talking. “What? Where are you?”, you questioned.

“Oh, we’re at my place”.

“Ok, I’ll be there in a bit”.

You were getting more worried every minute that passed by as you drove to Thanos’ apartment. Se-mi never got drunk. She didn’t like being vulnerable around others, in public. And especially not if it was with Thanos and Nam-gyu, because even though they were your close friends, you would definitely say they weren’t the most responsible guys. You pulled up to the building, nearly jumping out of your car.

°°••....••°°

She-mi rubbed her temples with a groan. It was such a stupid fucking idea to come here, knowing that the only advice Thanos would give in this situation was to get shit-faced. And of course, being a heartbroken idiot, she listened.

God, you’d overheard everything, all the feelings she had tried too hard to hide from you. In the end, all she could do was run away, and now your friendship was ruined.

The doorbell rang, practically drilling a hole in her head. Nam-gyu nibbled over to the door, pulling it open to reveal you standing there. “Se-mi, c’mon I’m taking you back home, you’re staying with me”. Even in her inebriated state, she knew there was no fighting it, and she wasn’t in any position to anyway. She obliged, letting you loop your arm around hers and pull her up. Saying a quick goodbye to the others, you led her to your car, setting her in the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelts before she had a chance to fall over. As you drove home, you kept checking to make sure she was alright as she began to doze off.

°°••....••°°

You held Se-mi up as you entered your apartment. She was held so close to you that you could smell the alcohol, as well as her own scent lingering underneath. Setting her down on the sofa, you filled a glass of water, bringing it to her. “Finish all of it okay?”, your voice was gentle. She emptied the glass and set it down, turning to face you. She looked up at you with wide, vulnerable eyes, her expression making your insides melt.

“Why are you taking care of me?”.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You're my best fr- you're the most important person to me. Of course I'll take care of you”.

“Even after what you heard? Do I not… make you feel weird?”, she looked away, unable to meet your eyes. With a gentle hand on her chin, you pulled her gaze up to yours.

“I don’t feel weird because… I feel the same way Se-mi. I always have”. You didn’t even realize what was happening when, the next moment, her lips were on yours, soft and sweet. Instinctively, your hands reached up to grip her hair, hers cupping your jaw. Heat flared through your entire body as her tongue pushed into your mouth, the kisses becoming deep and hungry. You pulled away from her, both of you breathless.

Unable to read the expression on your face, she began to stutter out an apology. “I’m sorry… that was sudden and I didn't even ask or anyth-” “It’s okay Se-mi, I..uh…I wanted to kiss you too. But you’re drunk and I don't want to take advantage of you or something so…” “Hmm”, was all she replied, her eyelids dropping, and you could sense the exhaustion setting over her. You chuckled, “Let’s get you to bed alright?”. You helped her to your room, getting her settled with whatever she needed. As you were turning around, Se-mi grabbed onto your hand, grumbling sleepily, “Where are you going?”

“Oh I was gonna go sleep on the sofa…”

“Just c’mere”, she pulled you onto the bed. With a small laugh you settled in next to her, rubbing little circle on her arm. Wrapping her arms around you, snuggling her face into your hair. She let out a content smile, immediately falling asleep.

She looked so peaceful in her sleep, calm and relaxed, and you couldn't believe she was here with you, bundled up in your arms. Slowly, you too followed into the realm of sleep, chest rising and falling along with hers.

p.s. pls send requests for other squid game characters (especially headcanons), or even for any of the other fandoms I write for. <3

pt. 2…smut…? ;)

[gyaruhana]

Can you do namgyu hatefuck headcanons?

Nam-Gyu/Player 124 - hatefuck headcannons

Synopsis: hate fucking with namgyu !!

A/N: I love him more and more everyday..

Warnings: smut content, hate sex, rough sex, degradation, spitting, anal sex, choking, hair pulling, face fucking, humiliation sex, dom AND sub namgyu :3

➠ hate sex with namgyu is so rough

➠ There's really a very slim chance you'll manage to dom him because he refuses to submit and will become violent !!

➠ He's so degrading honestly

➠ Constantly calls you a whore, a slut - basically every degrading name in the book

➠ there's like no time to process what's happening because he just walks up to you and slams you against the wall with a hand around your throat

➠ Sometimes, he doesn't bother with any prep and just makes you take his dick dry but other times he likes to tease you and edge you to make you cry

➠ On that note, really loves making you cry

➠ He will laugh at your face when you cry and mock you even more but it totally makes him so hard to see tears running down your face

➠ Those times where he chooses to edge you, don't expect to cum at all.

➠ he'll just shove his cock down your throat and fuck your face until he cums down your throat (and a little on your face too so he can call you a dirty slut)

➠ Then he'll walk away like that totally didn't happen and leave you on your own

➠ His number one joy in life (aside from drugs) is making you submit

➠ There's something about forcing you into submission and fucking you that makes him so unbelievably horny

➠ Do expect him to slap you actually

➠ For no reason at all too

➠ He'll just slap you (hard) and laugh when you cry about it

➠ Probably spits either into your mouth or on your face..

➠ He just likes watching the way your face contorts into disgust.

➠ If it's in your mouth, swallow it otherwise he will get even rougher

➠ probably into anal sex as crazy as that might sound

➠ Like I said, he likes seeing you submit and fucking your ass is such a good way to have control over you

➠ It also gives him wonderful access to your hair which he will pull at roughly!

➠ hear me out: sex in front of his friends

➠ I can just imagine him liking it so much when he humiliates you in front of his friends

➠ Like he'd totally fuck you on the bathroom floor and let Thanos watch

➠ Maybe he likes humiliating you a little too much..

➠ During games, he'll totally try throw you off by whispering something sexual to you

➠ He honestly could care less if you die because he hates you

➠ He only fucks you because it's funny for him..

➠ Overall, rough and mean dickhead when it comes to hate sex

"You fucking dirty slut," Nam-gyu speaks before letting out a slight laugh. Aside from getting high on drugs, fucking you like this might be his favorite thing in the world. Watching you cry as he stretches your tight hole around his dick does things to him he doesn't want to admit. Plus, you were a good stress reliever whenever the games had him worried or Thanos refused to give him a pill. Seeing your tears was basically a drug in itself and it made him grin so unbelievably wide. It was a joy to watch you cry out like this as he fucked his cock into you over and over. "Maybe I should fuck your ass next, huh? You'd probably like that despite the way you're bitchin' right now,"

➠ WAIT!! what if you got him to somehow submit..?

➠ He tries to act so unaffected when the tables are turned and you're fucking him but he's not very good at it

➠ Tries to be quiet but he can't stop all the sounds so there's a lot of muffled whines and maybe even a little bit of whimpering

➠ Will make a few rude comments in order to gain some sort of control but it doesn't work

➠ Do make him cum over and over again because he gets sensitive so fast

➠ honestly will start crying slightly at one point if he's too overstimulated.

➠ If you push him far enough he will beg you to stop with his eyes closed tight and tears running down his face

➠ I swear he can't handle it when you ride his cock

➠ no matter the pace you're going, it's always so much for him

➠ little pathetic mumbles of how it's too much for him

➠ he always acts like nothing happened afterward and continues to be an asshole as if he wasn't crying into the pillow just last night

➠ Overall, subby namgyu is highkey a sensitive crier

"Too- Too much! Fuck-" Nam-gyu cursed out as he threw his head back. You had been riding his cock for what felt like an eternity and he had already orgasmed three times into your tight hole. The way you were squeezing around him and continuously milking his cum out of him had him in tears. He was well aware he couldn't run from you considering you had him pinned down to the bed as you rode his dick so he just laid there and prayed you would have enough soon and leave his poor, sensitive cock alone. Otherwise, he might just pass out from the over whelming pleasure stinging his body. "ngh- god, it hurts- gentle.. please,"

[ferrarifinnick]

FOCUS | KANG DAE-HO (PLAYER 388) AU

pairing: dae-ho (player 388) x gymgirl!reader AU genre: fluff; in an alternate universe where dae-ho doesn't enter the games. summary: dae-ho can't keep his eyes off his gym crush, but she has some things to say about his manners. warnings: rewritten! suggestive content, shy!dae-ho, dae-ho checking reader out, lust, confrontation, sweat, partial nudity ? (sports bra), flirting, teasing, intimidation, a man who YEARNS. 1.2k

dae-ho tried to focus on lifting the dumbbells. the stretch of his muscles, the music playing softly in the background of the gym, he tried to focus on it. but his gaze kept drifting to you. clad in only sweatpants and a sport bra, you lifted nearly as much weight as him, but unlike dae-ho, you made it look easy. the only giveaway was the shiny gleam of sweat on your body.

it was just sweat. it wasn’t unlike anyone else hard at work in the gym, and it certainly wasn’t anything to be enamoured by. but if that were true, why couldn’t he tear his eyes away from it? away from you.

every time you dropped the bar and took a quick rest, he snapped his head back down to his shoes and tried to look busy. he fiddled with his shoe laces, pulled up his socks, even redid the topknot holding up half his hair. all to hide from your suspicion.

he gave it another moment before he took one last glance, only this time, you were staring right back at him.

he dropped his head before you could see the heat rushing into his red cheeks. his water bottle suddenly a point of fascination as he examined and drank from it, hoping to blend in. to seem normal. like your hands on your hips and the scowl you shot him wasn’t frightening.

dae-ho decided to call it a day. he pulled the hoodie over his head, snatched up his belongings, even readied his car keys to make a quick escape as he fled to the exit. he rushed past a little old lady power-walking on a nearby treadmill, but her pace was no match for dae-ho’s. he reached the door, could see the light of day pouring in from the street outside, he could see freedom.

so why did he turn around to look at you one last time?

more importantly, why weren’t you still at your machine? he glanced around, catching sight of so many girls but not one of them was you.

"looking for me?"

his head whipped around so fast it nearly unscrewed and fell to the floor. you stared up at him, hands on your hips, waiting for an explanation.

dae-ho's lips opened and closed, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force any words out of them. the narrowing of your eyes didn't help him find his voice, and the impatient sigh only made him shudder.

"well?" you urged. “why have you been staring at me for half an hour? what’s your problem?”

dae-ho swallowed. "i'm sorry, you're just–" really fucking hot, he wanted to say, but his mother would ring him by his neck if she ever heard him speak to a girl like that. those were thoughts to remain in his head, where they belonged.

"i'm just what?" you asked, and the frustration seemed to only be simmering with his silence.

"pretty," he blurted before he could help it, and the heat burned his cheeks the moment it dawned on him that he'd said it not only out loud but straight to your face. "i mean, that's not what i meant–i mean you are pretty, beautiful actually, but–no, that's not–" he let out an overwhelmed whine, squeezing his eyes shut as a last resort to escape you.

you reached out, the palm of your hand resting gently on his forearm. he nearly flinched at your touch, but when he caught the glint of amusement in your eyes, he relaxed.

"hey," you cooed. "i'm only messing with you."

the relief washed over his face and every tightened muscle suddenly released. “oh,” he said, unsure if he should laugh or run out the door. but when you giggled, he changed his mind and wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. he didn’t know much about impressing girls, but he knew it was never a good sign for one to laugh in his face.

“where were you running off to?” you asked, gesturing to the car keys hanging from his index finger.

“oh, just… home,” he said, and immediately cursed internally for not convincing you he lived a more exciting life.

you hummed, unconvinced. “seemed like you were in quite a big rush just to go back home,” you said, nodding down at his full bottle of water and weightlifting belt he hadn’t used during today’s gym session.

he slowly looked back up to you. “i was… tired,” he lied.

“bullshit,” you suddenly said, and his eyes flew open at your accusation. the crossing of your arms only pushed your breasts together, and he tried desperately to ignore the curve of them heaving up and out from under your sports bra. but the light was catching the sweat on your skin, and even though he had been raised better, he couldn’t help himself from glancing down for the fraction of a second.

he snapped his eyes back up to yours, but it was too late. you caught him. he knew for certain as your lips pulled into a smirk.

he gulped, desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat in case you asked another question. but you didn’t, you just stepped closer, and dae-ho realised this was worse than anything you could ever say.

you didn’t touch him, but as he glanced down at the closing proximity of your bodies, he was afraid one deep breath would push his chest against yours. you glanced up at him, the light catching your mischievous eyes.

“you were running away from me, weren’t you?”

he was wrong. maybe your words were just as daunting as your proximity.

he didn’t have to worry about responding, because the sheepishness in his face said everything he couldn’t.

you smirked as you caught him glance down at your lips, and you swore you heard his breath catch in his throat. “aw,” you cooed again, and the way your eyes softened almost had his knees giving out. “do i make you nervous?”

your relentless gaze made him feel like his back was against the wall, caged by your presence, but really he had the whole gym behind him. he could run away, he could free himself, but some part of him, the one that enjoyed the thrill of your attention, forced him to stay put.

besides, what was the point? you were onto him, and saving face wasn’t something he could achieve anymore. so he finally swallowed that lump and nodded. “yes,” he said, because the sweat dripping down his temple wasn’t from weights but the weight of your gaze.

you suddenly grinned. “honest, i like that.” suddenly you reached into your pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. “i’m going to the cafe across the street,” you said, lifting up the paper for him to see five out of six stamps printed in it. “they do a great hot chocolate, and i’ve only got one more to buy until i get a free one.”

he nodded along. “that’s a good deal.”

you repressed the laughter bubbling in your throat and instead asked, “what’s your name?”

“dae-ho,” he said, and for the first time he sounded sure of himself.

you told him your name, and said, “dae-ho, would you like to come with me to the cafe?” you tapped the paper against his chest lightly, cheeks stretching as you grinned. “i’ll get you a hot chocolate?”

he processed your offer slowly, and although he had to study your face for any signs of mean spirited teasing, he eventually realised you were serious.

“yes!” he said, and quickly cleared his throat to try again, this time without being so eager. “yes!” he said again, but it came out just the same.

you grinned. “great answer, dae-ho.”

you lead him out onto the busy street of your gym, pointing out the cafe just a few doors down. it stood on the other side of the busy street, a stream of commuters and tourists blocking the path. you turned to dae-ho and offered him your hand.

“don’t want you running away again,” you teased, and he finally lost the sheepishness in his eyes.

he took your hand, and while it was much smaller than his, he felt comforted by your confidence as you pulled him across the street. but even in a sea of people, you were still the only one he could seem to focus on.

hehe i love subby dae-ho. please like, comment, reblog. love <3

[autistichalsin]

Some of my favorite, understated moments with heartbreaking implications for Halsin

1. Halsin threatening to turn into a mouse in the epilogue if the player brags about his achievements- he's so shy and humble that just being acknowledged for LITERALLY BUILDING A COMMUNE HIMSELF makes him want to hide. A mouse is a very symbolic choice here: not only easy to hide, but also easily overlooked and forgotten. The idea of his accomplishments being acknowledged is so terrifying for him that he wants to turn into an animal no one will notice, instead of his usual strong, large, noticeable bear.

2. "Sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." This isn't the kind of thing that happens after one or two people act like jerks. This is years and years of cruel treatment, of his emotions being demeaned and mocked because of his size. Of people judging him before even meeting him- and forming an entirely wrong view of him. Halsin is a bighearted, tender, sentimental man, yet because he's big... Well, big people don't have feelings, surely. /s

3. "You and I may struggle to go unnoticed in such environs, Karlach[...] Folk of our stature can be a lure for drunkards seeking a brawl, I have found," combined with, "There is a particular discomfort to besting one you know to be weaker than yourself - even when needs must," from a different scene. People have sought him out and fought him because of his size (which had to have been terrifying, especially the first time), and he feels guilty when he takes out someone he knows is weaker, even if they STARTED it. How many times has the poor guy been traveling and then had to defend himself against someone 1/2 his size, making HIM look like the asshole to onlookers, and reinforcing that whole "people think I can't be hurt" thing?

4. "It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..." (About the players' paths diverging post brain battle), combined with "I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless," if the player breaks up with him in the ending. This poor guy was having the time of his life adventuring with the group (and possibly falling in love there) yet never believed it would truly last (because of his abandonment issues). And then to have it confirmed.... he must have felt so awful in that moment, even if he was being dignified about it.

5. "You came for me... thank you. I feared Orin's accursed smile would be the very last sight I beheld," when Halsin is freed from Orin, combined with, "Orin's blades. I hoped my friends would save me..." If he is killed by Orin instead and Speak With the Dead is used on his corpse. The tone of his voice in the first line, especially added to that bit in the second... he never thought the player was coming to save him. He HOPED they would. Not "believed". Hoped. He thought he was going to die there- just like how he was in the Underdark for THREE YEARS and no one came to save him. And if it's confirmed... Yeah. That. (Sidenote: if you ask his corpse if he has any regrets, he says not telling Thaniel and Oliver goodbye, and not getting to see their land flourish. :( My heart. :( )

6. "I... have not had true confidantes for some time. The Shadow Curse robbed me of almost all my peers, and replaced them with the weight of responsibility. Perhaps that caused me to gild undeserving memories of my youth." Halsin was so miserable and stressed being Archdruid that he romanticized his past as a sex slave, viewing it as a safer, even happier alternative. There were actually times when Halsin thought he might rather be a sex slave than continue to be Archdruid. In a sense, for the 100 years the Shadow Curse was around, Halsin was just as much a prisoner as Thaniel was in the Shadowfell, but Halsin's prison had invisible bars. The Shadow Curse took away his entire support system, and being Archdruid forced him to be the strong one, always, never allowed to be weak or scared, forced him to take control of situations when he hated it, forced him to spend his time sorting out people instead of being in nature. And he was MISERABLE. For 100 years.

7. "You understand me almost perfectly. Only my late mother may have bested you." (Said if you get one question wrong at the love dryad test). He misses his mama. :( Especially when you consider that if you steal Balthazar's "Mother Dearest" and taunt him about it, Halsin disapproves (and is the only one to do so), while returning her gets you approval (which only Halsin approves of). And then the line when you look into a mirror while controlling him, "more like my father, with each passing day..." He really misses them. :(

8. "I am loathe to see anyone behind bars. It reminds me of my time as a guest of the goblins." He is, secretly, still quite traumatized from his time in the goblin pens, but he brushes it off. Just like every OTHER time he is hurt.

9. "I am aware [of having a habit of getting captured]. Perhaps I put too much faith in my skills of negotiation, or want to see good where there is none. It would be easy to resort to nature's fury whenever something stood in my way, yet I cannot help but feel I would be sullying the Oak Father's gifts. Naive perhaps... but I still draw breath." Halsin is aware he gets hurt often because of his desire to see good in people until he has no other choice, but refuses to give up anyway (which is backed up by that letter Gut had on her where she reveals Halsin TRIED to help the goblins, saying he could cure them of their tadpoles, only to be thrown in the cage, with Gut threatening to have his stomach cut open and maggots placed inside it.) Further, even though he is an Archdruid, and one of the most devoted, and explicitly has Silvanus's favor (Halsin says that gaining his favor was the only way he was able to open the portal to the Shadowfell), he still constantly worries about using Silvanus's powers, to the point of wondering if an actual threat to his safety actually merits using his powers. Which... combined with some other stuff, reads like one hell of a problem with self-worth.

10. "At least you were not present. Grim as [the ruined battlefield] is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory[...] I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost" combined with, "I was [present when the Shadow Curse was unleashed]. Part of my spirit was shorn away from me here, and never left," and, if Last Light falls, "All gone... devoured by the shadows. Oak Father preserve us, it's just like a hundred years ago[...] We are [still standing]. Yet there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time." He has so much PTSD and survivor guilt from the Shadow Curse. :( No wonder it's all he can think about- to the point that some of the other companions even get annoyed at him for his obsession.

11. "I never quite realised how burdened I was, until I met you. The threat of the shadow curse, the politics of the grove... I was forgetting who I was, but you lifted the fog. Thank you." Not only does this tie in with the above, with his PTSD from the curse and his utter misery at being Archdruid, but this HEAVILY implies Halsin had depression. Like... that "fog" line hits HARD if you have or have had depression, because that's exactly what it feels like. And the "forgetting who I was" bit too. Not just losing his sense of self to the depression, but to the neverending responsibilities of being Archdruid. I keep repeating myself, but damn, this guy has really and truly spent an entire century being absolutely MISERABLE. :(

12. "Forgive me. I... lost the run of myself. Sometimes, if blood runs hot enough, it's difficult to tame the beast." With that little disgusted groan/sigh, the fury and disgust at himself visible on his face, and the way he rushes to get out the rest of it- he thinks he fucked up so badly that you're about to leave him, maybe forever. And then if you reject him after this? "Ah... I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then." He has the most heartbroken look on his face here, and the way he says "of course" like he just... knew this was coming the instant he accidentally wildshaped. He felt that the first time he let ANY of his imperfections show, the player would leave him. :(

13. "Death is nature's final slumber - it awaits us all. Do not punish yourself over those lost, or give in to despair - not while there are still folk in need of your help." (Said to a Dark Urge if they tell him they're not much of a hero and most people needing them end up dead) Not only is Halsin speaking from experience here, but it's very clear he is STILL doing exactly what he tells Durge not to do, to himself- punishing himself over those who were lost, struggling with devastating survivor guilt.

14. "The grove has cut itself off from the world, to jealously guard its own little pocket of nature. No one shall ever enter or leave again. And I have been evicted from the very place I was charged to safeguard. A telling summary of my time as Archdruid, perhaps..." If the Grove is sealed and you ask him about it later, this is what he says. Interesting that he views being evicted from the place he was in charge of protecting to be a "telling summary." He was forced to take the leadership role there, and yet it was clear he wasn't wanted or respected by a great number of the Druids (exempting Nettie, Rath, and Apikusis). He got a truly thankless job that took damn near EVERYTHING from him emotionally/mentally, causing him to develop depression and causing him to backslide in his previous healing from his trauma from his time as a sex slave, he still gave EVERYTHING to the Grove, and in return...... almost none of his Druids appreciated or even liked him. (I could seriously write at least five metas about how obviously miserable Halsin was at the Grove, despite caring for it deeply).

15. "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me." Said at the epilogue to a solo romanced player who went to the commune with him. There's so many layers of heartbreak here. He is still surprised, six months later, that the player chose him. He even thinks the player will regret it, and will decide they want an adventurer's life after all after seeing everyone else. He doesn't think he is good enough- doesn't think he deserves the player, and yet at the same time he loves them so much that he is heartbroken over the possibility they might agree with him. He thinks that given a chance, there is little chance they would actually choose him again. (He is put at ease quickly when the player promises they picked him for a reason, but even the explanation he gives for why he was so worrie is heartbreaking- that he's so used to a tumultuous life that he thinks something must go wrong. He has been so traumatized so many times over the years that he just has almost no ability to think that true happiness is possible [or deserved] for him.) Something about that is just heartbreaking, even though his ending is one of the happiest of any of the companions.

Someone give this sweet bear man a hug, please :(

[morbidapples]

good luck charm

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝖽𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌𝗇'𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝗎𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 4,474 words; 24,496 characters

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: penis in vagina sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), fucking on a couch, praise kink, pet names, cursing, art is lowkey kind of a freak here, oral fixation, needy! art donaldson, established relationship, lovesick fools, brief mentions of future plans yada yada ya, reader is also a tennis player.

𝗮/𝗻: hey... i'm ovulating right now so i had to crank out another art donaldson smut fic. i am genuinely obsessed with the man, it's a little scary. but, i am actually starting to write smut more and mayhaps have another art fic coming out soon that involves a kitchen countertop... anyways. this is a medium length piece, not as long as the other art donaldson smut fic, but still a decent read (I hope). Don't be a ghost reader, and if you have any requests for anything, feel free to dm me.

Art loved you. You were always there for him. In the stands at every match, patching up minor scrapes after a fall. You were always there when he needed you.

He craved your attention like a drug, like it was the oxygen he needed to breathe. A bit needy, in your eyes. But you never minded.

"But you always come to my matches."

He had a small frown on his lips, his hands gripping your waist as you stood in front of him, your hands gently massaging the nape of his neck.

You smile softly at him and his antics. "I know, but I have my own match tomorrow. I can't miss it."

His pout deepened, whining a bit as he pulled you down on the couch next to him, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you onto his lap, making you straddle his thighs.

"But you're my good luck charm," he whined again, burying his head in the crook of your neck, lips planting gentle kisses over your skin.

Your breath hitches slightly at the feeling of his lips against your skin, but you still manage to speak. "Y- you don't need luck. You're a good player, baby."

He continues kissing, moving upwards to the spot on your neck that he knew you loved, his hands running up your thighs, slowly but teasingly.

"Sure, I don't need luck, but I want it," he mumbled against your skin, his hands now slipping under the hem of your shirt, calloused fingers tracing patterns along your sides.

Your head instinctively tilts back to give him better access to your neck, as you struggle to focus on anything other than Art's mouth pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your skin. "Are we really... talking about this right now? It's hard to... think rationally right now."

His lips curved into a smirk as he nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, knowing full well the effect he was having on you. His hands continued to wander, moving higher on your sides, thumbs gently rubbing over your ribs.

"Thinking never got anyone anything, sweetheart," he whispered, his warm breath against your skin doing nothing to help your current state of arousal.

His lips slowly make their way to your ear, his mouth nipping at the lobe before he spoke again.

"Besides, thinking is overrated. You should just 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭."

With that, his hands found your waist again, and in a swift motion he had you pinned against the couch, his body hovering over yours as he looked down at you with darkened eyes.

His mouth continued its work down your neck, moving along your jaw until he reached your lips, his mouth claiming your own in a deep, passionate kiss.

Art shifts, trapping your legs between his as he grinded his hips against yours, a low growl escaping him as he continued to devour your mouth.

You gasp into his mouth at the sensation, hands holding onto the side of his stomach. You're breathless, hungry for him.

He takes advantage of your gasp, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and exploring every inch of you.

His hands move lower, finding the hem of your shirt and starting to tug at the fabric. He breaks the kiss to pull the shirt over your head, tossing it aside before his eyes roamed over your exposed skin.

He leaned down, his mouth returning to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone and between your breasts.

"You taste so good," be murmured, his fingers tracing over the lace of your bra, teasing you as he moved lower to your stomach.

His hands went back to your hips, holding you in place as he continued to shower your skin with kisses. He moved down your stomach, his lips tracing the lines of defined muscles, marking you as his own.

He could feel you squirming under him, your breathing becoming ragged, and he couldn't help but smirk against your skin. He loved having you like this, all flushed and needy, completely at his mercy.

Art's hands moved behind your back, easily finding the clasp of your bra and freeing you from the lace. He pulled away from your stomach to look at you, his eyes roaming over your exposed chest, a hungry glint in his gaze.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his calloused fingers gently tracing the curves of your body. The way he was looking at you made you feel exposed. Vulnerable. It was something only he could make you feel. You were okay with that.

His mouth was on you again, his lips attaching to one of your breasts, teasing and pinching your sensitive flesh. His teeth latch on to your pebbled nipple, nibbling on the hardened bud.

He heard you moan, the sound going straight to his groin, making him grind against you again, trying to get some friction.

He pulled away, his breath hot on your skin as he spoke. "You like that, sweetheart?"

He watched as you tried to nod, your eyes half-lidded, your body arching up against his touch.

He chuckled under his breath, his thumb and forefinger gently pinching your nipple.

"Use your words, baby."

You bite your lip slightly, trying to form a coherent thought, chest flushed and littered with love bites, gaze hazy as you look at him. "Y- fuck, yes-"

He smiled at your response, pleased with the sound of your voice as you spoke.

"That's a good girl," he murmured, his mouth continuing its journey down your stomach, his teeth nipping at the skin.

He moved lower, his lips trailing over the waistband of your sweatpants, his hands pushing the fabric down your legs.

He sat back for a moment, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in the sight of you sprawled out on the couch, completely exposed to him.

He smirked, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he leaned back down, his mouth attaching to the inside of your thigh.

He left a trail of kisses up your thigh, his teeth gently biting at the sensitive skin. His hands held your hips down, keeping you in place as he slowly but surely made his way to your core.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of you driving him on as his tongue slowly traced over your folds, tasting you. He'd thought about being mean, teasing you, but his own desire overruled that thought process.

He heard you gasp, your body arching against his mouth, and he couldn't help but smirk against you, knowing how wet you were for him.

He continued to explore you with his mouth, his tongue swirling and tasting as he found the spots that made you moan and jerk against him. His hands kept you in place, his strong fingers gripping your hips as he worked you into a frenzy.

You felt like you were floating, the pleasure making your head spin. God, he was fucking good at this.

One of your hands grips his hair, while the other squeezes your breast, giving you that extra stimulation. Your head lolls back against the couch, half delirious and hazy, as you let out needy whines and moans.

"Art- Art, fuck- s' good... so good..."

His mouth never left its place between your legs as he heard you call his name, the sound going straight to his cock. He hummed against you, the vibrations against your sensitive cunt making you squirm even more, your hand in his hair tugging at the locks.

He pulled away for a moment, his mouth slick and shiny with your arousal as he looked up at you.

"That's right, sweetheart. You're being so good for me," he purred, his voice gravelly and low from arousal.

His mouth returned to you, his tongue picking up its pace as he devoured you. He could feel you getting closer, your body tensing, moans growing louder and more frequent.

He held you down even more, his fingers gripping your hips almost painfully as he pressed you into the couch, his mouth never stopping its relentless assault.

Your moans are rising in pitch, voicing his name repeatedly like a prayer. Your cunt is clenching around his tongue, and your chest is heaving up and down. You're going to cum very soon, and he knows it.

He could feel you getting closer, your body practically shaking with need. He doubled his efforts, his tongue working overtime as he pushed you higher and higher.

He looked up at you, watching the expressions of ecstasy on your face as he brought you right to the edge.

"That's it, that's my girl. Come for me," he growled against you.

His words combined with his tongue send you careening into your peak, hips canting up, core clenching, moaning his name almost pornographically.

"Oh, god- fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- s' good to me, Art-"

He keeps mouthing at you through your climax, prolonging it by never letting up his efforts. He loved this, the feeling of you coming undone under him, the sound of his name leaving your lips in between gasps and moans.

He pulled away once he was sure you were spent, but he couldn't help but tease you just a bit more, his tongue darting out to swipe up the last bit of your arousal.

You whine, hips twitching at the overstimulation. Your gaze is hazy, lips bitten, eyes dilated, as your head tilts back against the couch, half delirious from your orgasm.

He watches you for a moment, a satisfied smirk on his face as he moved up your body, gently pressing a kiss to your stomach before capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss.

He pulls back to look at you again, his hand cupping your face.

"You're so pretty like this," he murmured, his thumb tracing your bottom lip where it was bitten red.

As Art's thumb presses into your mouth, your tongue darts out to trace it. He swallows hard as he slips his middle and ring finger into your mouth, and you keep eye contact with him as you suck on his digits, eyes blown wide with desire.

He watches you intently, the way your lips wrap around his fingers and your tongue swirls around them nearly making him shiver in anticipation.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear as he speaks, his voice low and seductive.

"You look so good with your mouth full, sweetheart."

You moan around his fingers, tongue still coating his fingers with saliva. You've always been a sucker for praise, especially from him.

He chuckles quietly at your response, his eyes darkened with lust as he watches you take his fingers deeper into your mouth.

"You like that, don't you? You like it when I tell you how good you are?"

He pushes his fingers deeper, his other hand holding the side of your neck, thumb rubbing over the skin gently.

You moan again, eyes fluttering. You both have a heavy oral fixation, you know it, and he knows it, too. Your hands go down to his jeans, fingers grazing over his erection. You want to please him, too, just as he had done for you.

He can feel your hand on his jeans, the gesture not going unnoticed as he sees your eyes flutter. He growls lowly, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan.

"You want to take care of me too, sweetheart? You want to show me how good you can be for me?"

You whine, needy and uninhibited. You want to make him feel good, too. Your mind is fuzzy with only one thing, him.

He smirks faintly, watching you get lost in the feeling, the sound of your whine making his cock twitch inside the denim confines.

"Alright, baby," he purrs, taking his fingers out of your mouth and gently lifting your chin with his hand.

"You know what to do, don't you?"

You're quick to discard him of his jeans and shirt, and underwear, as you lightly push him back on the couch, his legs spread. You settle in between his legs, on your knees on the floor, sucking and biting the skin of his thighs and hipbones, your slender hands pressing down gently on his thighs.

His head rolls back at the feeling of your lips and teeth on his skin, a low moan leaving his lips. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, his muscles tensing as your touch sends jolts of pleasure through him.

"That's it, sweetheart," he gasps breathily, his grip on the couch tightening. "You're so good to me."

One of your hands move to cup his base, squeezing gently, and you begin to leave teasing kitten licks at the top, the other hand gripping his thigh.

Art hisses at the feeling of your hand on him, his hips involuntarily bucking at the contact, his toes curling against the carpet.

"Fuck..." he gasps, his hands finding your hair and fisting the locks, trying to control himself. "You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart."

When your tongue runs up from his base to his tip, and flattens against his slit, he nearly loses it. And you haven't even put your mouth over him fully yet.

His eyes are squeezed shut, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hands trying to ground himself in your hair. He's never felt so wound up, so worked up, the touch of your tongue making him lose his mind.

"Baby-" he gasps, his head rolling back against the couch. "I- I won't last if you keep this up."

When your mouth closes around him, his mind goes blank. It's so warm, so soft, so good. Your tongue is swirling around his slit now, hands gripping his legs as you take him in fully.

Art can't think, can't form a coherent thought, can't do anything except feel the sensation of your mouth on him. His hips twitch, his hands gripping your hair tighter, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps and moans.

"Oh, god-" he gasps, his back arching off the couch slightly. "That's- that's good- s' so good, sweetheart-"

It isn't long before his hips are stuttering forward into your mouth, and you're taking it like it's nothing, mouth wrapped around his cock. You aren't letting up, and he's on the cusp.

He knows he can't hold on much longer, the pleasure building higher and higher, his hips involuntarily bucking into your mouth, needing more friction.

"I- I'm gonna-" he chokes out, his hands gripping your hair tighter again. "I'm gonna- sweetheart, I-"

After a few seconds, you ease off, and he scrambles to get himself the rest of the way off. His hand frantically moves up and down, he's so close, so, so close- he cuts himself off with a strangled moan as he cums, releasing on his hand, and all over your chest, dripping down the valley between your breasts.

He can barely catch his breath, his chest heaving as he comes down from his high, his body shaking slightly from the aftershocks.

He looks down at you, a mixture of satisfaction and awe in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you, your chest covered in his release. The sight nearly does him again.

"You're- you're amazing, sweetheart," he gasps, his voice hoarse from the strained vocal chords. "So fucking good to me."

You look at him then, eyes hooded and half-lidded. Then, you take your index and middle finger, scooping up his creamy spend on them, and suck your digits clean, all while keeping eye contact with him.

𝘖𝘏 𝘔𝘠 𝘎𝘖𝘋. He could come again just from watching you.

Art's eyes widen as he watches you, a guttural moan escaping his lips. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?"

He reaches down, grabbing you by the upper arms and pulling you up onto his lap, his mouth finding yours in a desperate, messy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

You moan into his mouth, hands cupping his face, hips rolling against his. God, you're soaked, he can feel the wetness against his exposed cock.

He breaks the kiss, his mouth trailing down to your neck, biting and sucking at the skin, leaving his mark on you. His hands are on your hips, gripping them tightly, helping you move against him.

He can feel how wet you are, how much you want him, and it drives him wild.

"You want me, sweetheart?" he murmurs against your neck, his breathing ragged. "You want me inside you?"

You gasp, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. His cock is hitting the right spots to make you squirm, and that's all you can think about.

"Yes- fuck, please- need you-"

He smirks against your skin, his hands roaming all over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You need me, huh?" he teases, his mouth now on your ear, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. "You want me to fill you up, sweetheart?"

Your voice takes on a high and breathy tone, bordering on begging. At this point, you are.

"Please, please- I need- need you to fucking fill up- Art-"

He leans back slightly, his eyes roaming over your body, raking over every inch of skin. He takes in the sight of you, desperate and needy on top of him, and it takes all his self-control not to give in right then and there.

He captures your mouth in a rough, hungry, messy kiss, mostly teeth clashing and tongues licking into each other's mouths.

"Get on your knees, baby."

You do as he says, as he places a cushion under your hips. Always thoughtful, he is, even when he's completely feral for you.

He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to your spine, as he positions you comfortably and prepares you.

He takes his time, his mouth and hands roaming over your back, leaving a trail of kisses and bites in their wake.

He positions himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips, his breaths hot on your skin as he speaks.

"You ready for me?"

You nod so fast he swears you could've given yourself whiplash, moaning softly, needily. "Yes, yes- please-"

He holds your hips steady, his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing ever so slightly.

He leans down, his chest pressed against your back, his mouth by your ear.

"Take a deep breath and relax," he murmurs, his voice almost sultry.

He takes a moment to let you adjust, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips, waiting until you give him the okay to continue.

When you do, he pushes into you slowly, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. It's a struggle to not start pounding into you immediately, but he's coherent enough to recognize you need a minute.

You moan once he fully bottoms out, your hands curling into the fabric of the couch, arching up against him. You feel so full, so stuffed.

Art holds you close, his chest pressed against your back, his mouth leaving tender kisses on your shoulder. He takes a moment to gather himself, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"You okay, sweetheart? M' not hurting you?" he asks, his voice thick with arousal, his hands on your hips holding you still.

You take a second to adjust to the stretch, and when you feel like you're ready, you tell him. "I'm good. Y- you can move."

He nods against you, his hand coming up to gently grab onto your hair, pulling lightly to get your attention.

"I want you to look at me. Can you do that for me?"

He watches as you turn your head to look at him, your face flushed and your eyes hazy with desire.

"That's my girl," he praises, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. "Now hold on tight."

Within a second, he's pulled out, turned you over so you're on your back, and gone back in. He wants to see your face as he makes you feel good. And you already look wrecked.

He looks down at you, his eyes scanning your face, taking in every little expression— the way your mouth hangs open, how your eyes flutter shut, the moans and gasps leaving your lips.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, his hands coming up to cup your face, holding your head in place so he can watch you come apart under him.

He continues to move, slowly at first, his eyes never leaving your face, taking in every reaction you have to his every touch and movement.

He watches as the pleasure builds within you, your body arching up towards him, your hands coming up to cling to his shoulders.

He leans down, his mouth finding yours in a deep, messy kiss, his tongue delving into you, tangling with your own.

He feels your legs come up, wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer, deeper, the new angle making him let out a guttural moan.

You moan into his mouth, as he hits a deeper angle inside, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving half crescent moons in their wake. The room is warm, not only from the hot summer air, but also the heat coming off of both your bodies.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as his breaths come out in ragged gasps. He can feel your nails dig into his shoulders, and the stinging sensation only serves to drive him wilder.

"You're so good to me," he pants, his hands roaming over your body, tracing over every curve and contour. "So goddamn good to me."

He quickens his pace, his hips snapping forward harder and rougher, his eyes locked on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression.

He can't even think coherently anymore. All he can focus on is you. How you feel, how you look. Every noise that is drawn out of you with each thrust of his hips.

He can feel his own release building, the pleasure coiling in the pit of his stomach like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

He continues to move, his motions growing sloppy and erratic as he begins to lose himself to the sensation.

"I'm gonna-" he gasps, his voice strained and uneven. "I'm gonna-"

He's determined to bring you over the edge first. He reaches down in between your bodies, thumb finding your clit, and applying pressure.

You moan, eyes fluttering, lips parting, jaw going slack. Your nails dig into his shoulders, as you clench around him. You're so close, he can feel it.

The feeling of your walls clenching around him drives him insane, the moans and gasps escaping your lips only adding to the sensation.

He keeps up the pressure with his thumb, his own release building, his muscles tense and taut with effort, but he refuses to let go until you've come undone first.

"That's it, sweetheart," he gasps, his voice low and rough. "Come for me. Let me see you come apart."

"F- fuck- Oh, oh god-" His thrusts hit just the right spot inside you, and it sends you careening over the edge, eyes rolling back, voicing his name over and over like a prayer.

He watches as you fall apart beneath him, your body writhing and trembling, the sight of you coming undone pushing him right to the edge.

His movements become erratic, his hips stuttering as he clings onto the precipice, the sensations almost too intense.

"Oh god-" he moans, his voice trembling. "Gonna- I'm gonna-"

When you clench around him again, it's enough to finish him off. He moans hoarsely, hips thrusting through his own release.

His release hits him like a freight train, his hips stilling, his body shuddering with the intensity of it. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps against your skin.

"Fuck-" he pants, his grip on you tight, his whole body shaking from the aftershocks.

He tries to catch his breath, his body still slumped over you, his heart racing in his chest. He lifts his head up slightly to look at you, and god, the sight of you, so utterly wrecked and breathless, nearly does him in again.

You look down at him, eyes hazy and filled with affection, as your hand comes up to gently card through his sweaty hair.

He practically melts under your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he lets out a contented sigh.

He moves slowly, carefully pulling out of you, trying not to hurt you. He then collapses beside you on the couch, his head resting on your stomach.

"You're going to be the death of me, y'know that?" he mumbles sleepily, his voice rough but fond.

You laugh quietly, a faint smile appearing on your face. "That wouldn't be so bad, would it?"

No, it wouldn't. It really wouldn't, he thinks. You are marked with love bites, put there by him, you're this wrecked because of him. You love him.

He grins at your comment, his eyes drifting up to take in the sight of your marked skin. He feels a sense of pride at the sight of the love bites he left behind, a silent claim that you were his.

He lifts himself up, propping himself up on his elbow so that he's staring down at you, his gaze soft but possessive.

"You're right," he answers quietly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. "It wouldn't be so bad at all."

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you're both tired. Art can feel his eyelids drooping, the allure of sleep calling to him. And you're not faring much better, drowsy and content being here.

He can tell you're just as tired as he is, both of you coming down from the adrenaline high and now feeling the exhaustion seeping into your bones.

He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you flush against his chest. He burrows his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of you.

"Let's take a nap," he murmurs sleepily. "Just a little one. We can clean up later."

You hum softly in agreement, body perfectly melding into his. As Art drifts off, he's only thinking about how much he never wants this to end. He never wants to stop having you.

The last thing he remembers as he slips into unconsciousness is the feeling of your body against his, the sound of your breaths, and the gentle beat of your heart.

He falls asleep dreaming of a life with you, filled with love, laughter, and happiness. And he knows, deep down, that he'll do anything to make those dreams a reality.

[brujahinaskirt]

One of the huge, character-arc-central things that new KCD2 fans who don't play KCD1 may miss has to do with the way Hans & Henry's relationship has evolved over time. I worry that new players to the second game may mistake their relationship as one where Henry has been brought up to serve as Hans's squire from a young age, and they've been companions forever, but haven't quite managed to figure out how to overcome their class difference in order to truly connect as friends. That's not true--it's not at all the way things are between them--and it's VITAL that it isn't.

Three big reasons:

Playing KCD1 and understanding how Hans & Henry meet is critical to understanding how Hans has changed and is continuing to change because of his relationship with Henry. The Hans we meet at the start of KCD1 is a very different person from the Hans we meet at the start of KCD2 (and again very different from the Hans we leave at the end of it). Believe it or not, KCD2 Hans is "calm Hans." KCD1 introduces Hans as a much more aggressive, competitive, spazzy, violent and buckwild person. Frankly, a lonely person clawing for attention, usually negative. There's a reason for this: Han's elevated position means he has never had a real friend who speaks to him and views him as an equal. Then Henry is dropped into his lap under an incredibly unique set of circumstances, emotional and logistical, that enable this lowly blacksmith to briefly overcome feudal mentality and treat Hans like a person. This changes everything for Hans from this point onward, which is why he bonds so intensely and so swiftly to Henry, who is the sole reason Hans calms the fuck down into the person we meet at the start of KCD2. Henry is much, much more important to Hans than "my loyal bodyguard." He is his sole friend, and perhaps the only one he will ever be able to have. Hans and Henry both know this very well. If you miss KCD1, you may well miss this crucial context. (You'll also be partially left in the dark as to why Henry genuinely likes Hans back, who came into his life and provided disruption, anger, joy, and distraction from a time of otherwise personality-consuming, overwhelming grief.)

The "divorce" is really clearly not contextualized properly for new players who missed KCD1. Hans's little blow up at Henry is kind of painful to watch, but if you played KCD1, you'll know that it also shows a really beautiful step of character development for Hans and is a sign of a strengthening relationship... not an actual friend breakup, narrowly avoided. Hans spends most of KCD1 terrified to disagree with Henry. Any time Henry pushes him even a little, Hans will crumble, instantly, folding his personality and backing off in clear fear he's about to lose his One Friend. That KCD2 shows us a calmer Hans who IS NOT scared that fighting (nastily!) with Henry will destroy their friendship is huge. This, crucially, is why Hans and Henry both continue to look for each other and speak about their quest in "we" terms, even as Hans keeps dramatically yelling at Henry to stop following him. It's why Hans instantly jumps to his defense and can't hold back his cheers for him; it's why Henry immediately starts looking for him and worries deeply about the trouble he's getting into. What might seem like a series of inconsistencies or "hints" that they really might like each other is really beautifully consistent with everything we've seen. If you know this context, then you'll know as you watch it unfold that "The divorce" isn't and was never supposed to be understood as a real divorce. It's the progression of their relationship to a place where they can fight with each other when they're upset, openly and pettily, and both still remain certain that there is no future in which they don't continue to move through the world together. Even when they're both pissed off at each other. Warhorse tried to provide some catch-up context here, both with Henry's scolding of Hans ("I know we both know you don't mean that.") in the socks and with Hans's persistent references to "we' and "us" every time you run into him post-breakup. They also clearly tried to frame it as funnily as possible, right down to their bickering making crowds uncomfortable and inspiring the catchpole to "you're-better-off-without-him" comfort Henry. But I feel a lot of it is still lost if the player is not able to appreciate how being able to fight like this, as messy and petulant as they are, is not a threat of divorce they bounce back from. It's a sign of the strength of their friendship versus the way it was in KCD1. It wasn't a divorce. Hans was never, as he confirms at the poacher's camp and the wedding, going to leave Henry behind. It was exactly as it was framed: a lover's tiff. They were never going to really break up. While attentive players will probably pick up on this, it's a much richer and more enjoyable experience knowing the full background in KCD1.

Absolutely essential to understand that Hans is never really threatening to pull rank on Henry with his language of "peasant" and "blacksmith," even when they disagree about when Henry should and shouldn't interfere in noble business. What might appear to a new player to be genuine class tension between them and a muddled set of interpersonal boundaries is simply how they play and taunt and provoke each other, something firmly resolved and established in KCD1. There's still class tension, certainly, but it does not exist between them in quite this way, but as a divergence in worldviews and the frustration of the conflict their differences bring into the world. "Watch your tone, peasant" is, plainly put, a flirt. So is Hans's pseudo-contemptuous "blacksmith." So is "peasant" and "my lord" and "your lordship." In private, those distinctions have no real teeth behind them - it is just how they play.

Love KCD2? Want to love it even more? Play KCD1, jank and all. Be there for the start of the story. You will have an even better time in the sequel the next time you play.

[loki-zen]

Speaking of fire emblem the three houses what is the actual point of the genderlocked character classes anyway. Girls can't be the class "dark mage" but most of the characters that get dark magic are girls. Women can't get advanced brawling classes, but gender doesn't change the protagonist's natural skill strengths so I sure hope you picked the correct one of the protagonist's two favoured weapon skills to focus on if you made her a girl. Pegasuses are sexist. Men and women don't actually have different stats in any way, they're entirely capable of mastering the prerequisites to a given class, they're just arbitrarily prevented from selecting them. None of this is attested to in actual dialogue or worldbuilding, nor is it pointed out to the player in any OOC way.

[fairyspheres]

i saw that dragon age veilguard hasn't sold well (in the official statement, they specifically said that 1.5 million copies had 'reached players' so it must have sold even worse than that which. yikes) and while i'm quite gutted about that, ea and bioware also only have themselves to blame for it.

they let ten entire years pass between inquisition - a game that, for the most part, dragon age fans generally really like, at least for the lore - and veilguard. in those years, we saw them make andromeda, anthem, and heard reports of them trying to make the-then new dragon age game live service. thankfully we didn't get a live service dragon age game in the end, but a lot of the original writers were dropped, and i think that shows with the quality of the writing in veilguard.

i've never played dragon age for the gameplay, in any of the games. i despise the gameplay in origins - it's clunky and horrible and the deep roads makes me want to let the darkspawn win. but i love the story, which is why i endure the deep roads and the fade. the same in da2, which is probably my favourite of the entire series, even with the repeating dungeons (actually i love the repeating dungeons. i like knowing where things are), and the same in inquisition with the companions who feel like real people (cassandra pentaghast my beloved).

veilguard... the cuts show in the writing quality. the best character was emmrich (and assan and manfred) and from what i've heard he also had the best romance. which is another thing that suffered greatly - the romances (other than emmrich's). in a game series known for its romances, to the point where bioware was marketing the game as the most romantic as the series, how have they managed to mess it up that badly? cullen and solas' romances were late game additions in inquisition, and they're some of the best in the entire series, so it can't be an issue of time constraints.

rook's dialogue choices were essentially just different flavours of pleasant. do you want to be cheerful, lesser purple-hawke, or stoic? there's no real choice to be had throughout most of the game. even the choice between minrathous and treviso has little impact beyond what merchants might be available and a couple of later game choices. compared to earlier games, where you could let an entire village be overrun by corpses, or let fenris be taken back by danarius, the lack of choice is rather stark in comparison. the only real choices come at the very end of the game.

AND speaking of choices - the entire series has been about how all our previous choices have always mattered, about how we can always carry them over and use them to influence the world. so it was very much a slap in the face when not only could we not use the dragon age keep or import any choice beyond who we romanced in inquisition and what we wanted to do with solas, but the fact that by the end of veilguard, everything we did from origins to inquisition was all for nothing. bioware's choice to do that to varric was a kick in the teeth to long-term fans. oh, we got a little reference to the hero of ferelden in weisshaupt, how nice. pity they didn't tell us whether they're still alive or not. a shame we don't know hawke's fate.

so no, i'm not surprised that the game did so poorly in sales. i'm disappointed, but i'm not surprised because as i said, it's their own fault. i said back in november that they might not have another chance to make things right, and i hate that i might've been right about that.

this turned into an unintentional rant about all my grievances with the game.

[strawberry-cowmilk]

the brothers when they miss mc

-> brothers x mc

-> mc is in the human world and the brothers are feeling lonely

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: angst, feelings of loneliness

-----

Lucifer

he literally cannot focus on a single thing and it bothers him, what did you do to him to cause him to lose his edge?

even diavolo can tell something is bothering him but of course he denies it

to take his mind off of missing you and wanting to hold you, lucifer decides to listen to some of his favorite records

until he realised one was about feeling alone too

Mammon

he begs everyone who can send him to see you, to do so

mammon promised lucifer he won't spend a single grimm for a month just to see you but none of his attempts work

he tries to secretly call or text you any time he can, especially after something bad happened to him that day

you were there to cheer him up, whether you knew you had that power by just standing there or not, mammon misses that

Leviathan

he just stares blankly at the starting screen of his game that reads 'player 1: levi and select player 2'

like you were one of his very few friends, how could you be taken away from him like that? levi just turns of the game and gets in his bathtub

he does vent about it to his fish, but let's be realistic the fish can't do anything and can't understand what's going on

he never thought he would dread being alone

Satan

he reads and reads to try to get his mind off of missing you, but that doesn't always work

satan is also more easily angered now, and that could become a dangerous situation depending on what happens to him next

satan keeps a diary, so he can give it to you when you're reunited again

but he probably won't ever do that out of shame, almost every page is about how alone he felt without you, emotionally, physically, in any way

Asmodeus

everything just annoys him, and that's when he realised him missing you was worse than he thought

he spams your inbox full of messages, he doesn't even expect you to see every single one but he just likes sharing stuff with you, even if it's a picture of a cool soap bubble in his bath

speaking if the bath, he uses it to relax when he can tell he's getting too sad

he buys you little gifts for your return too

Beelzebub

he's just living his life and then it hits him randomly like 'oh, I miss mc'

sometimes, when he orders food, he automatically gets you something too only to realise you're not with him and then he's sad for the rest of the day

he also feels less hungry and is less motivated to go to the gym

sometimes belphie has to help him cheer up when he feels like he needs somebody to talk to

Belphegor

his solution to anything is to take a nap honestly

but then he ends up dreaming about you, loving the dream, and waking up extremely upset that it was a dream

you can actually tell by how annoyed he looks during breakfast

belphie doesn't talk about this feeling of missing you a lot, which may worry his older brothers

but despite being apart from you, he'll still protect you from nightmares

[shoutydwarf]

veilguard spoilers !

literally None of these characters are above b tier for me except davrin and that's carried by him being a grey warden that doesn't need me to therapy speak him into being fixed.

sorry to be a toxic origins bro on main but my favorite characters are always the ones that don't recognize me as the player character pressing the buttons. their development isn't contingent on me making choices for them. they have opinions i don't agree with and which i can't change their mind on, a la vivienne/anders. alistair is one of my top companions because he has LINES in the motherfucking SAND. he will be your brother and/or your lover for the entire game but if you don't put his vengeance above your duty to the wardens, he will leave, if not attempt to seize power and force his ends. same for most all other origins and 2 companions (and inquisition to a lesser degree) - A. the option EXISTS to fundamentally piss them off to the degree they will want to kill you, and B. some of them literally WILL try to kill you. that's how roleplaying games are supposed to work. i am supposed to be a person in this world surrounded by other people in this world and i expect it to feel like that. moreso, i know they CAN make it feel like that, because they DID that in all 3 previous games.

there is no way to fail loyalty missions in VG. characters are so lukewarm that the guild of looting, pirating thieves exercises ethical tomb raiding and does monologue you about it. not a single one has any opinion that beckons you to use your brain cells. these characters do not evoke any emotion from me. i could write whole think pieces on why vivienne has the disposition that she does, why she thinks she's right, why i fundamentally disagree with her but still greatly empathize with her and consider her the best option for divine (out of 2 other companions that are just as complex). i have NOTHING to say about the veilguard companions. there is NOTHING to talk about here.

every single one of their villains are entirely one dimensional and unforgivable. THAT is the true disney aspect of the game. loghain, meredith, samson, calpernia, bhelen, branka, the architect, celene and gaspard, even fucking HOWE all have nuances and complexities to them that, even if you still end up at the conclusion that they're awful, you still have some things to think about. there are reasons leading up to their descents into cruelty and madness beyond just "me wanted power :p for fun :p"

this is also part of why davrin is the only memorable character for me; his villain was someone i knew and, frankly, the only interesting one out of the entire lot but only because she had an entire book's worth of setup. harding's was also great but because of the larger issue with zero catharsis for the titans, i have to kick her down several tiers with the rest of Mid Town.

don't get me started on the hardening system and how it can literally only happen to a single companion as a consequence to a single choice in the entire game. and then that 'hardening' actually has no bearing on their loyalty missions or, in neve's case, their romance.

the game does not make me think at all. it is designed to be consumed but not digested. there is nothing beyond the curtains. there is nothing to discuss. there is no nuance, no spice, no complexity, no grey areas. all that exists to talk about here is "i liked this part" and "i didn't like this part".

it is, like too fucking much of modern media, brain rot soup. and it doesn't even taste good.