#darkness finds you universe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tennessoui · 4 months

Note

Kisses to distract for the playmaker au 🌌

omg from this prompt list, kisses to distract from the au where all the kisses are basically to deceive and to distract???? hell yes!!!

so i couldn't pick which kiss i wanted and then i remembered i made a playmaker post once about how vos is probably sent undercover/ends up at anakin's table and obi-wan freaks out and corners him and they're found and its so suspicious that they would be so close talking in a secret corner that before they're found, vos kisses obi-wan so that people will just think that they're horny only for vos to then die because That's Anakin's Little Mouse

so this is that....except a little different cause obi-wan's daddy issues are Daddying rn

(2.6k) (cw: a nonconsensual kiss. but also. like. murder???)

Obi-Wan can feel his heart beating. It’s so loud in his mind that he can barely hear what Vader is saying, and he’s sitting in the man’s lap, face tucked up beneath his chin.

He can’t remember a time he’s felt more exposed, not even the very first time Vader’s hands had found his waist and pulled him into his lap in front of half his highest ranking men.

In the intervening weeks, it’s even been—well. It’s become rather…comfortable. If he doesn’t think of all the reasons it isn’t.

Perched on Anakin’s thighs, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other held to his lap, he can press his face up against the man’s hair. He can close his eyes and commit himself wholly to listening to the men and women around him talk. Talk of shipments and delays, money owed, lives taken in payment. Obi-Wan can memorize everything and he can do it from the throne of the very mob his department has tasked him with bringing down. He can memorize it all and spend the moments in between pressing kisses to the tendons of Anakin’s neck, trailing his fingers along the in-seam of his suit pants, rubbing at the mob boss’ shoulder with the palm of his other hand.

Because—because that’s what the mission instructs that he do. He’s supposed to gather intel, gather evidence. And he’s supposed to do it without Anakin realizing that there’s a rat wrapped around his heart. The kisses—the kisses help. Distract him.

And it feels good. To kiss him.

To tease him into fucking him up against the wall the second they get somewhere private. To coax him into such violent need he dismisses his men and has Obi-Wan right where they’re sitting.

It feels good, to be so desired that it’s uncontrollable. To be so desired that the desire must be dealt with, must be whittled down simply by the act of having. Of taking.

Obi-Wan doesn’t feel guilty about how good it feels. It should feel good to be touched. It should be some sort of bonus to the undercover mission that it is sometimes him whose hands shake with the desire to be on Anakin’s skin. It is not something he needs to feel guilty about.

It is not something his father needs to know about either, the way that the son he raised turns into a slut the moment a criminal gets between his thighs.

And luckily enough, right now, Obi-Wan is the sole decider of what Qui-Gon Jinn gets to know. That’s the nature of being the only rat to have lived this long in the Skywalker mob. That’s the nature of being the only rat. Obi-Wan gets to decide what he tells his team and what he leaves out of their quick and hurried meetings when Obi-Wan’s supposed to be on a run.

But—but he was supposed to be the only rat.

He was not supposed to look across the long table laden with food that Anakin uses for his mob meetings and see a face he recognized.

Obi-Wan’s head is swimming, and his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears that Anakin must be able to hear it too. That must be why he adjusts his grip on him, dragging him further into his arms as if that will make him feel safer.

All it does is drag the hem of his shorts further up his thigh, exposing the lace end of the stockings he’s wearing. All it does is tug the droopy material of his shirt off his shoulder—revealing the strappy red lace of the bralette beneath.

It has happened before—hell, Obi-Wan has dressed like this in front of these men for the express purpose of this happening, of his outfit revealing what lies beneath while he can feign ignorance. Nothing gets Anakin’s hands on him faster than other men seeing what he thinks is only his.

What is only his.

He came tonight wearing the brightest colors of pretty things he owned in order for this to happen because it has been far too long since Anakin last snapped. He has been far too put together lately, far too...distant.

It makes Obi-Wan’s chest tight with anxiety. He has not yet been able to figure out what attracted the mob boss to him in the first place, and he’s spent the last several days wondering if it’s gone. If he’s about to be tossed to the side, ripped out of Anakin’s bed with the same ease he was granted entry.

Or—maybe worse, what if Anakin has made him as a rat? What if he’s to be killed?

What if his father knows that and he thought to send in Obi-Wan’s replacement before he can die? It would be less suspicious, wouldn’t it?

No. Obi-Wan is being paranoid. Too paranoid. Even if he were to lose Anakin’s attention, he has the twins wrapped around his thumb. Anakin cannot kill him, his children would not stand for it.

And—it would give him time to figure out what he did wrong, what made Anakin’s eyes stray. He could be better. Figure out how to do better, be what he needed.

For the sake of the mission.

And…there would be no way for his father to catch wind of the mob realizing there’s a rat before Obi-Wan knows.

So the fact that Quinlan Vos is sitting close to the foot of the table…that he’s here, in this room, as a ranking member of Anakin’s mob….

That must mean that his father does not trust him to be doing his job. That Obi-Wan’s performance has disappointed him somehow, that he hasn’t been enough. He has not given them the information that they need and so his father has found a replacement.

And now the man who used to help Obi-Wan sort his father’s highlighters by color and size is staring at him from down the table, looking at the lines of his lingerie as he sits on the lap of the most dangerous mob boss in the city.

“Well,” Anakin says, tossing his napkin onto his empty plate. “Let’s break so that they can clean up this mess. And then—to business, men.”

The words are met with the thud and scrape of twenty or thirty chairs pushing back from their seats as the owners vacate them obediently. Obi-Wan, just as obedient, stays still. Anakin’s hand has clasped around the back of his neck, keeping him in position.

“You’re shaking, little mouse,” the mob boss murmurs.

“It’s cold,” Obi-Wan replies automatically, turning his face into his neck. He presses the faintest of kisses there and thinks about ripping the man’s throat open with his teeth, ending all of his problems now.

“Aw, baby, but you look so pretty like this,” Anakin says, ghosting his hand up the outside of his thigh and resting it just beneath the hem of his shorts. Then, his tone changes, growing lower, darker. Vader. “The men couldn’t look away.”

Obi-Wan tries to draw a breath, but it stalls out in his chest. He stills, and then immediately tries to pretend that he hasn’t, that his thoughts have flown to Vos, who had been just as surprised to see him in Anakin’s lap as Obi-Wan had been to see him at Anakin’s table.

“Hm?” Vader continues, as if Obi-Wan has spoken.

“I didn’t notice,” Obi-Wan finally says, sitting back so he can look fully into Vader’s eyes. “All I was looking at was you.”

They’re different from Anakin’s, Vader’s eyes. He would include this in his reports if he could figure out a way to say it that doesn’t make him sound insane. It’s been a long-held theory, that Anakin Skywalker isn’t always just Anakin Skywalker, but no one’s ever been able to have irrefutable proof.

But looking into Vader’s eyes, Obi-Wan knows. Knows it’s Vader who is looking back. Anakin is a dangerous man all on his own, but Vader…Vader is another beast entirely.

One that Obi-Wan isn’t prepared to deal with right now. Not when he is so on edge. When Vos is here. At Anakin’s restaurant. At his table.

Does Obi-Wan’s father really think he has failed so entirely? Does he really think he needs to be replaced? Needs support?

“I need to stretch my legs,” Obi-Wan says, pushing away from Vader’s chest. “I heard you and Ahsoka talking over it, I know this meeting will be a long one.” “My, what big ears you have, little mouse,” Vader says silkily, even as he drops his hands and leans back in his chair. The dismissal is clear; Obi-Wan is being given what he wants.

He gets several steps away before he looks back at Anakin, hands tightening into fists and releasing.

The man is watching him go, wine glass raised in front of his lips. He hasn’t closed his legs yet, sprawling out on his chair like it’s a throne.

And Obi-Wan is—torn. He needs to track down Vos. He needs to find a place to talk with him.

But he needs—he needs to stay here, with Anakin. He needs to turn back around and press himself up against Anakin’s chest once more, spread himself over him and make him feel good. So good that Anakin will not kill him nor tell him to leave and kill him all the same.

The shame and guilt that come on the heels of that thought are strong enough to force him to look away, force him out of the room.

He doesn’t get far.

A hand wraps around his arm and pulls him aside almost as soon as he’s exited the wide main room of the second floor of Anakin’s restaurant.

Obi-Wan makes an automatic, furious sound, but the hold on his arm only tightens as he’s pulled further into a dark and quiet alcove, mostly shielded by a marbled statue.

“What the hell are you doing,” the man who has grabbed Obi-Wan whispers furiously, and Obi-Wan goes almost boneless with relief. Oh, thank God it’s Vos.

“Me? What are you doing—” he turns around to face him fully, as much as the tight space can allow. “Did my father send you?”

In the shadows of the alcove, Obi-Wan can barely see Vos roll his eyes. “Probably in his mind, yeah, he did. I got back from one undercover mission, got sent the contacts for another almost immediately, wound up here, where his precious son’s whor—”

“What does that mean—”

“And he should have, Jesus, Kenobi! They told me you were making nice with the mob, wait until they hear you’re grinding up on Vader during his business meetings, what the fuck—-”

“No!” Obi-Wan doesn’t mean to say it so loudly or so vehemently, but he can’t. Qui-Gon was never supposed to know, no one was supposed to know, and now they will, and maybe his father will pull him off the case, can he do that? Would he try? If he thought Obi-Wan was doing a bad enough job, he would. He would take him away, get Detective Secura to arrest him next time they meet for information, it wouldn’t blow his cover, but it would take him away from—

From Anakin.

Obi-Wan can’t let that happen.

He hears footsteps, pointed and loud, coming down the hallway toward them. The break must nearing over, it’ll be time to get back to the real meat of the meeting, the actual mob business now, and then Obi-Wan won’t see Vos again. No way Anakin would let him spend a moment alone with another man—it would look suspicious anyway, if Ben knew this random mobster. Two rats getting cozy under the same roof, it doesn’t look good.

Anakin can’t know. Obi-Wan can’t lose him. He can’t lose him.

He can’t.

I’m sorry, he thinks and he knows it’s not good enough but the guilt does not drown out the need burning in his chest. The desire that cannot be controlled.

In the next moment, he’s pushing Vos up against the wall of the alcove, forcing him back with a grunt that’s loud enough that the footsteps outside pause.

Turn.

Just as Obi-Wan presses his lips against Vos’, pulling his own shirt down to look dissheveled. Messy. Like someone has been running their hands over his clothes.

“Oh, now that’s something Vader will want to know about,” Ahsoka Tano says. Obi-Wan rips himself away almost as fast as he pushed himself into Vos’ space.

It isn’t an act when he rubs the back of his hand over his lips. He’d kissed Vos mid-word, gotten the man’s spit in his mouth. He doesn’t like the taste, wishes it was Anakin’s.

“Tano,” he says. “Just making friends.”

Tano’s eyebrows fly up further than Obi-Wan’s ever seen them. “You get all your friends killed, Ben?”

Vos moves to stand beside him, shoulder to shoulder, and the guilt and shame slam into Obi-Wan so suddenly that he almost rocks back from the blow. Vos is eight years older than him; was just fresh from the academy when Obi-Wan was still just a kid left to twiddle his thumbs at the police station waiting for his father to take him home. He’d gotten him take-out before. Coffee. Water. Little games to play with.

And Obi-Wan has gotten him killed.

“A little kiss won’t kill me,” Vos says, clapping a hand to Obi-Wan’s shoulder. There’s a note of bravado in his voice.

“Not quickly,” Tano promises. She raises her hand, snaps it when Obi-Wan doesn’t exit as quickly as she wants. “Come on, Benny. Let’s get you back to daddy.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan says, taking a shaking step forward. All he can think about suddenly is Vos, a decade younger and relegated to a shitty desk in the back of the station first year out of the academy, shoes up on his files, biology flashcards in his hands as he ran Obi-Wan through the questions.

What has he done?

“Please,” he finally says, stumbling out of the alcove, and when his voice wavers, he’s not faking it. What has he done? He has gotten Vos killed—and for what? Why had he kissed him? He could have—he could have talked to him, he could have begged. He could have explained the situation, why did he have to—

Because there is nothing Obi-Wan can say that will make Tano hold her tongue.

And there is nothing Obi-Wan can do to stay Anakin’s hands. He has murdered people for less. Perhaps this time he’ll murder Obi-Wan too, that way Obi-Wan will not have to live too long with the weight of this guilt.

“Ladies first,” Tano says as she opens the door back into the room. It’s buzzing with the sound of other people’s voices, the movement of them as they find their seats once more.

Obi-Wan walks forward and Anakin’s eyes snap to him immediately. They’re dark and narrowed, as if he already knows more than he likes.

The walk has never been longer to get to Anakin’s side once more.

He’s pulled to stand in between Anakin’s spread thighs, the man’s hands falling to his waist and pulling him in, splaying out across his hips.

“Mm,” the mobster murmurs, and Obi-Wan’s legs are so shaky that he has to clamber up onto his lap just to avoid falling apart then and there. What has he done. What has he done?

“You smell different, baby,” Anakin says. “What have you been doing?” Obi-Wan wonders suddenly, wildly, if he can smell his fear. If he could see it in his eyes as he approached.

“Making friends,” Tano reports as she drops into the chair next to them. “Tongue first.”

Anakin’s hands still and then tighten. When he speaks, his voice is low and deep and all Vader. “Is that right, little mouse?”

And Obi-Wan—there is nothing Obi-Wan can do save for letting the guilt kill him.

So Obi-Wan nods. He nods and raises Vader's chin with his hand, forcing him to look at him. "I told you I was cold," he said as if he'd been so cold he found another man's body to keep him warm in the minutes he was away from Anakin.

Anakin's eyes are like pieces of ice. There's no warmth in them, but there's a glowing light of something that looks a lot like hunger. Fascination.

It's the same way he looked at him when he first saw him. As if he were intrigued.

The expression makes something that has been wound tight these last few weeks dissolve into nothing. Anakin's eyes promise that there will be no more distance between them. That he has not grown so tired of him that he will be discarded with next week's recycling.

And despite the guilt, the worry, the shame that's burning Obi-Wan's insides to ash, that look in Anakin's eyes warms him to the core.

#asks #prompt fill #vaderwan #obikin #playmaker au #to be clear vos does very much die #and obi-wan knows he dies #and anakin knows he knows he dies #and anakin also knows he was obi-wan's friend before #or he learns through excruciating slow torture or something #this universe is dark think what you will #also he wasn't actually getting bored of obi-wan probably #he will always find obi-wan fascinating #he just also wanted to see what obi-wan would do #if he thought he was getting bored of him #he never thought he'd sentence another man to death by kissing him tho #that caught him off guard if we're being honest #but his little mouse is perfect #and unexpected

43 notes · View notes

creatureesque · 8 months

Text

LOOK AT MY DURGE SEROH AGAIN LOOK AT HER LOOK AT HER AND LOOK AT HER MAGE WIFE NOWWWWW!!!!! explanations for two of the drawings are in the tags :)

#fourth drawing is post canon I MADE THEM SO TRAGIC BY ACCIDENT WAAHGGH #and gale left to look for the crown!!!! and he promised he will come back and they will ascendtogether #so post canon seroh locked themselves up in the sewers to keep people safe from them because they are now overcome with the dark urge #because they disobeyed bhaal #so i imagined gale finding seroh shackled up and all. i imagined how he would be overcome with rage and honestly.#honestly i think he would kill (or at least try) bhaal for this once he ascended. to free his lover #oh and the fifth drawing is an au wheree they grow old together because my friends were begging me to give them a happy ending.#so here you go. at least in another universe they had one #IM SO OBSESSED WITH THEM ITS INSANE #dark urge #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #woop.jpg #seroh denholm #my ocs

47 notes · View notes

shdwtouch · 2 months

Text

❝ can I pet ya' raven ? ❞ her voice is hushed, earnest with respect. hands worrying shyly in front of her, shade fixes the other ranger with a hopeful gaze. she'd never had a companion of her own; the shadow-cursed lands were no place for animals, as much as she had wanted for a friend to traverse them with. the idea of a bird, especially a raven, as a hunting partner was novel to her.

she was almost envious... but with a gentleness; if she could not have an animal at her side then she would shower the companions of other rangers with all that she felt they were due, scritches and treats included, should their masters oblige.

@thcdoomed liked for a starter

#thcdoomed #《 ° interaction 》 find me in the darkness of alleys and forests #《 ° universe 》 unknown #im going to write you a serious starter as well but this was my first idea and i had to run with it XD

11 notes · View notes

glockmonkey · 5 days

Text

STOPP THEYRE FLIRTING NOW

#‘erm haha if we both die and get sent to the dark world we should meet up somewhere wouldnt that be fun (id find yiu in any universe)’#‘sure arthur’#malevolent spoilers #‘you should be called uhm. john the perfectest man alive’ <- smoothest 1930s man

7 notes · View notes

blxckdragonfly · 11 months

Text

Love Language (Darkness Finds You Universe-- Prelude #0)

(Song: "Love Language" by Ariana Grande.

Warnings: Drama, Slight smut on the page.

Pairing: Chris Motionless & Lycia Winters "Pronunciation of her name-- Lai-shuh" (played Ana De Armas)

Synopsis: When Chris invites Lycia to Furnace Festival to see his band, Motionless In White play for the first time-- some drama unfolds between her and Ash Costello, which pushes Lycia into finally telling Chris that she loves him and... the attachment begins.

Word Count: 4,856

Spotify:

A/N: And we're back! I wanted to give you guys a prelude of what took place before the first piece I wrote with these two, which is Love On The Brain. I hope you enjoy it! Co-written with @blackrose-92! x Tiger)

I was so excited to be here today– Chris had brought me to Furnace Fest to see him and Motionless in White play live as well as walk around the festival and take photos of the different bands headlining today for Jeremy and Outburn Magazine. It was my first time ever seeing them live. I watched as Chris was putting on the final touches of his look, which was his black vest with a patch that had a black and white spiral, black jeans and his boots. His arms are covered in black paint, hiding his many tattoos.

Furnace Fest: Sloss Furnaces National Historic Landmark– Birmingham, AL. September 25th, 2021.

I wore a sleeveless black wash Metallica “Ride The Lightning” top from Fashion Nova, a pair of black ripped disco skinny jeans from PrettyLittleThing, and a pair of boots. My hair is up in a pair of space buns and I wore light makeup knowing that most festivals are known to be pretty warm as I stood at the side of the stage, watching Chris and the boys as they’re about to walk out on stage. I heard the excitement of the crowd as Ricky, Justin, Ryan and Vinny walked out.

Chris being the last to go out on stage, he stopped when he saw me standing there with a smile on my face. He walks over to me and places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Have a good show,” I whisper into his lips. He nods and walks out on stage, the crowd roaring as he takes his place and starts singing their opener– Disguise. As I’m watching their set, I notice a bunch of black and red hair blocking my view from seeing Chris. It was Ashley Costello.

I was confused as to why Ash was acting this way toward me and then it all made sense, when she looked at Chris– she looked at him like she was absolutely lovestruck. It lit a flame of anger inside of me. I step forward in front of Ashley with my arms crossed and a brow raised at her.

“What the hell do you want?” My voice came out icy and cold as I glance at Ashley. Ashley clears her throat and shifts on her feet, avoiding my piercing yellow-green hazel eyes.

“I just want to talk,” Ashley replies, her voice quivering slightly. I wasn’t sure if she was playing some kind of game to get under my skin or was she being serious? “About your relationship with Chris.”

I was taken aback by her boldness and immediately became defensive of my relationship with Chris.

“What about it?” I ask, suspiciously.

“I think you both should end it,” Ashley took a step closer to me, her nervous facade fading fast. “He deserves someone far better than you.”

I stare at Ashley in disbelief, my heart racing in anger. How dare she try and get in between us like this. She has no right to do this and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let this happen. I clench my fists and step forward, determined to make Ashley understand that I wouldn’t be taking part in any games.

“What makes you think he deserves someone better than me?” I ask, fiercely. “Do you even know him at all? Do you know how much he actually cares for me?”

Ashley took a step back, intimidated by my ferocity and my refusal to be intimidated. I have three brothers, I know exactly how and when to fight if I need to.

“I know him far better than you and longer than you,” Ashley says with a smirk. “And I know he deserves someone who will treat him right, someone who won’t take him for granted.”

I grew more and more angry, I stepped forward with my jaw clenching and I grabbed her around the neck.

“I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing and hell, I don’t care,” I snarl. “But if you ever, ever come near my boyfriend again, I will kick your ass.”

My words are full of fury and I can see that Ashley knew that I meant every single word. Ashley started shaking in my grasp and she put both of her hands up in surrender.

“I-I’m sorry, Lycia,” Ashley stammers. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

I wasn’t satisfied with her apology, I tighten my grip around her throat as my voice takes on a harshness and is full of warning as I speak. “This is your only warning, Ash. Stay away from Chris or else I won’t be as nice next time.”

Ashley nods slowly, not daring to look me in the eye in fear that she would be met with the same cold rage that filled the air moments before. I step back and cross my arms as I watch Ashley walk away, and in the corner of my eye– I look up and I see Chris, who had just gotten off stage.

I can see that his jaw was on the floor from what he had seen happen between me and Ashley as he walked backstage. He didn’t know how to respond.

I face him and take a deep breath before looking into his brown eyes and speaking.

“Look,” I confess. “There’s one thing you need to know about me. I’m extremely protective of the people I love– whether it’s family, friends or even my significant other.”

I see Chris’s face turn from shock to being frozen and I realized why he’s looking at me that way. I just told him that I love him.

“Are-Are you saying that you love me?” Chris says.

I nod my head at him and smile at him, my expression full of warmth and admiration.

“I am,” I murmured in a honeyed tone of voice. “I love you, Christopher Cerulli.”

Chris steps forward toward me and pulls me into his arms, overwhelmed with emotion and happiness that I finally voiced out my feelings that I had for him. He kisses me deeply, passionately conveying all the love he has for me as we embrace tightly.

The kiss felt like an eternity between us before Chris finally pulled away from me, feeling both relieved and exhilarated all at once. He looks into my eyes, taking in every single detail of me as I stand before him– from my caramel brown hair, to my yellow-green hazel eyes, to my tattoos like my red inked snake tattoo with flowers on my left outer forearm. His hands move to caress my face.

“I love you too, Lycia,” His voice breaking slightly due to the overwhelming emotions flooding through him. "I love you so much."

I smile back at him, feeling an immense sense of relief wash over my entire body as I close the gap between us and I kiss him again, tenderly as I wrap my arms around his neck and my fingers sink into his newly dyed blonde hair.

I lightly nip on his bottom lip and I hear a soft growl erupt from within his chest, making me giggle. Chris slowly pulls away from the kiss, a look of contentment on his face, still keeping me close to him.

“I can’t believe you actually said it,” Chris whispers in awe, referring to how I finally voiced my feelings for him. “Not just saying that you love me but also standing up for our relationship.”

I smile up at Chris before resting my head on his chest, hearing the strong and steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.

“You don’t have to worry about anyone getting in the way anymore,” I murmured softly into his vest as he met my lips in another passionate kiss.

“Aw, look at the lovebirds,” I hear Justin’s voice as I quickly break away from the kiss and I turn around to face both Justin and Ricky.

“Hey, shut up, you two!” I snap as I flip them both off. Chris steps forward and rests a hand on my shoulder before turning his attention to Ricky and Justin. I see him take on a serious expression.

“You guys should watch your back,” Chris says as he sees a mischievous look in my eyes, causing both Ricky and Justin’s eyes to widen in fear as they realize what he’s implying.

Ricky and Justin both realize their mistake as they see the look in my eyes. Chris wanted to say something more but he was holding back laughter at the look on their faces. After composing himself, he shot them a warning look before turning back to me.

“Hey,” Chris whispers softly as he pulls me close and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “It’s alright, I’m here.”

I smile as I nuzzle my face into his tattooed neck, I feel so safe in his embrace and it makes me feel powerful knowing that I can stand up for myself and not have to face the fear of repercussions.

I see Ricky and Justin sheepishly back away and look down at their feet as I hear muttered apologies to us from them as they scurried away. Chris chuckles as he watches them go, wrapping his arm back around my waist protectively as the other moves to comb loose strands that have escaped from the space buns in my hair in a soothing gesture.

“I want to hear you say it again,” Chris mumbles softly into my ear as he places light kisses onto my jawline, taking delight in hearing my soft sighs with each brush of his lips on me.

“I love you.” I whisper. “I love you.”

Chris grins into my neck as he kisses it softly. “I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.”

After the festival, when Chris and I flew back to his place in Scranton and I made sure it was okay with Jeremy that I could stay longer with Chris and take time off work, which it was, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Chris wanted me and he wanted to be as close to me as possible.

The moment the door to his house closed behind him, Chris pins me up to the door– kissing me with such a deep passion that it takes my breath away. Our lips move in perfect sync as I wrap my arms around him, my fingers moving through his blonde hair. He savors the feeling and the taste of me as his hands explore my body, our lips breaking away for a moment as his own drag slowly down my neck, making me close my eyes.

I can feel his heart racing wildly but even I know he wants to take his time with me, which he scoops me up in his arms, making me giggle as he carries me upstairs to his bedroom, laying me on the black pillows below. I open my eyes and I meet his loving chocolate brown orbs staring back at me. My breathing is sharp with excitement.

I promise it's the little things that you do

That make me wanna give it all to you

You know I do, babe

I bring my lips back to his, kissing him passionately as my fingers reach for the “Violent Gentlemen” shirt that he’d been wearing on the flight back and pull it up over his head. I see more tattoos that cover his body, including what looks like a haunted house that wasn’t finished yet on his chest and stomach. I run my fingers across his tattooed arms and down his chest.

He pulls me closer, his own fingers reaching for my own oversized Misfits tee and taking it off me, leaving me completely bare chested before him because I’d been too lazy to put a bra on underneath.

He notices that I have more tattoos that he’d hadn’t seen before. I have a pair of deer antlers with some flowers on my right side near my right breast and a fox on my left side close to my left breast. I hear a soft gasp in awe from him of how beautiful I must have looked with my tattoos.

I blush as his gaze runs over them, feeling a bit self-conscious to be seen this way, despite how much I’m enjoying this at the same time.

You soothe me

You hold it down with every word you speak, oh, babe

Baby

Been a minute since I had somethin' so sweet

He reaches out and brushes his fingertips over the antlers, the sensation making me shiver as he moves his other hand to the fox on my left side.

“You’re so perfect,” Chris murmurs as he rests his forehead on mine, bringing tears to my eyes over how sweet he's being. “You really are.”

He continues his trail down my neck, to my collarbones, the center of my chest where he leans down and takes one of my breasts into his mouth– making me let out a moan as his hand caresses my other breast.

I feel completely overwhelmed by the sensations as they coursed through my body, my back arching in pleasure as Chris kisses and licks my sensitive skin. He reaches for my jeans that I’d worn on the flight, unbuttons them and pulls them down to reveal my phoenix tattoo on my right hip. He kisses it tenderly before standing up and undressing himself, his eyes burning with desire for me.

If you're gon' keep speakin' my love language

You can talk your shit all night

You the medication when I'm feelin' anxious

That's the kind of shit I like

I take in the beauty that is Christopher Cerulli, the Chris Motionless, every tattoo that covers his entire upper body. My heart beat in my chest, he wasn’t just beautiful. He’s gorgeous. I understand why so many girls want him, because of how stunning he is. The best part of all, is that he’s all mine.

I bite my lip as he slowly crawls onto the bed, his eyes meet mine as I can’t help but feel a bit nervous, his brown eyes are so intense I feel like I can’t breathe. He moves closer to me, resting a hand on my face, caressing it as he notices my hands are shaking.

“Lycia,” Chris murmurs softly. “Honey, you’re shaking. Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

I shake my head, taking a breath to calm my nerves. I know what I want, it’s right in front of me, looking into my eyes. I want him.

“Chris,” I say softly, my voice barely a whisper as I push away all of my doubt that comes up to the surface. “I want this. I want you.”

Teach me how to love you

I'm unlearnin' what ain't right

I want you to keep speakin' my love language

Baby, talk your shit all night

Chris smiles widely and leans forward, pressing his lips against mine as he kisses me softly. I respond eagerly, heart fluttering at the tender gesture, wrapping my arms around his neck as he deepens the kiss, his hands moving from mine to my neck and then down again before finally settling on either side of my waist. I feel something awaken in me and makes me long for more of him.

He moves lower on the bed, his mouth kissing along the curve of my neck before moving down to the phoenix tattoo that he admired earlier on my hip. I let out a gasp as Chris kisses the tattoo, his tongue tracing the intricate design and sending shivers of pleasure up my spine.

I feel myself melt into him as he moves lower, his hands lightly caressing my inner thighs and pushing them apart, his fingers find their way to my most sensitive spot and I feel a wave of pleasure through me at the contact.

Why would I double back or do the same thing twice?

A question, somethin' that I can't deny

Lеft my baggage at the door, I'll claim you mine

All minе

“Fuck,” I breathe softly as his fingers sink inside me, Chris feeling how turned on I am. He leans into my neck, nibbling softly on my skin as his fingers make circles inside me, the pressure and sensation growing within my entire body and it shakes as he continues to tease and tantalize me.

I gasp as his fingers move within me as my hips move into his hand as he looks up at me, brown eyes gleaming with desire as he watches me moan in pleasure.

I can’t help but let out a moan at the sensation and I feel myself on the brink of an orgasm. Chris smiles wickedly into my neck, knowing that he’s driving me wild with every stroke of his fingers. His other hand moves up to caress my breasts.

“Mm,” Chris whispers as he watches me while brushing each of my nipples with his free hand, making me moan louder this time. “I love the way you fall apart when I touch you.”

You soothe me

You hold it down with every word you speak, oh, honey

Baby

It's been a minute since I had somethin' so sweet, mm, oh

Chris moves his fingers out of me and replaces them with his tongue, exploring every inch of me.

My moans increase in volume and fill the room as I feel myself getting close. His tongue moves in circles around me, alternating between soft and firmer licks, making me squirm in pleasure beneath him and pulling the best sounds out of me.

My hands reach for his blonde locks, pulling on them slightly as I feel his teeth graze my most sensitive area. I cry out again as he teases me with his tongue, pleasure coursing through my veins and making my body quiver.

“I-I can’t take this teasing much longer, babe,” I breathe out between moans of pleasure. “I need you so badly.”

If you're gon' keep speakin' my love language

You can talk your shit all night

You the medication when I'm feelin' anxious

That's the kind of shit I like

Chris pushes himself up onto his knees and looks at me with a smoldering look in his brown gaze, he moves up onto the bed, crawling over my body until he’s positioned above me.

His hands rest on either side of my head, pushing back any strands of my caramel brown hair that have come loose from our embrace, he gives me a soft peck on my lips as he starts to slide inside of me carefully.

I gasp as he fills me completely, my entire body feels alive with pleasure as he moves inside of me. I wrap my legs around Chris's waist, my black nailed hands gripping onto his back as he looks into my eyes, his gaze is filled with desire and passion.

“God, you feel amazing,” He whispers as he starts to move slowly within me, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through my body, making me arch my back.

I moan loudly in response to the sensations coursing through my veins, each movement harder than the last and pushing us closer to the edge of pleasure.

Teach me how to love you

I'm unlearnin' what ain't right

I want you to keep speakin' my love language

Baby, talk your shit all night

Chris’s hands move to cup my face, keeping his gaze locked with mine as he continues to thrust, the strokes taking up a bit of speed but also remaining loving and intense, which takes my breath away as my black nails leave scratches up and down his back.

I feel like I’m about to scream out in pleasure at any moment as Chris took me higher and higher. I could feel my skin becoming hot and flushed as every nerve ending in my body tingled with pleasure, the sensations overwhelming.

My nails dug into his back as I silently begged him to not stop but rather take me further along this blissful road.

Chris responded with each thrust, pushing himself deeper within me until it was too much for me to handle.

I shiver underneath him as an orgasm rocked through my entire body, the waves of pleasure nearly bringing tears in my eyes. He increases his pace even more, his breath becoming ragged as he came closer and closer to his own climax.

Finally, when I thought I couldn't be able to take any more, Chris follows closely behind, releasing himself into me after a soft but guttural growl escapes him as he collapses onto me.

We both lay there, panting for a few moments before Chris rolls off of me and pulls me into his embrace as he wraps his arms around me protectively from behind, holding me close as I relax into him.

I smile contentedly and snuggle closer to Chris with my back against his chest, feeling completely satisfied from our lovemaking session.

“That was amazing,” He whispers softly while planting small kisses over my shoulders and neck, his warm breath tickling my skin. “You’re so incredible.”

My smile widens as I turn to face Chris, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips before pulling back and propping myself on my elbow to look at him, tracing the lines of his face with my fingertips.

Baby, pardon my French, but could you speak in tongues?

Never lost in translation 'cause you know what I want, boy

Treat it just like Givenchy (Givenchy), it's expensive to taste…

My eyes were drawn to the beauty of his face, his strong jawline, sharp cheekbones and soft lips that has moments ago kissed me in ways that no person has before, the same face that I’d watched before in multiple music videos, in interviews, seen in magazines and posters of him and his band, Motionless In White over the years.

I trace the path of each muscle until I reach his chocolate brown eyes that are now looking into mine intently.

In that moment, I feel like there's no one else in the world but just us, and it made my heart flutter in a way I have never experienced before.

Chris smiles warmly at me as he gently takes my hand in his and brings it up to his lips, planting a soft kiss against the back of my hand.

“What are you thinking about?” Chris spoke softly as his fingers gently trail down my arm with my red ink snake tattoo, his gaze still locked with mine.

I smile and move closer to him, my hands tracing the haunted house tattooed on his chest as I ponder his question for a couple of moments.

“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am that I’m here with you right now,” I murmured against his skin softly as I trace one of my own fingers across his tattooed jawline.

Chris smiles down at me as his lips brush against mine tenderly before he tucks away a strand of my caramel brown hair behind my ear lovingly. He presses his forehead to mine, letting out a content sigh as we both lay in comfortable silence for a few more moments before I decide to break it.

“It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way,” I begin, thoughtfully. “I’d never thought I’d find someone like you who could make me feel so safe and loved.”

Chris looks into my yellow-green hazel eyes, understanding passing through us both like an invisible wave before he wraps his arms around me tightly, holding me close to him in comfort and appreciation.

If you're gon' keep speakin' my love language

You can talk your shit all night

You the medication when I'm feelin' anxious

I smile against Chris’s chest as I run my fingertips along his arm lightly, tracing his many tattoos and feeling how strong he is beneath my touch.

“I’m glad I found you too,” He murmurs into my hair as he nuzzles his face into it, taking in the scent of cinnamon and blood oranges. “I haven’t felt this kind of connection to someone in such a long time.”

I look up at him with a soft smile on my lips before turning and pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace. I rest my head back down on his chest and close my eyes for a moment as we lay there together peacefully, enjoying each other’s presence.

Chris notices the peacefulness that this moment has brought and I can see that he wants to take it a bit further.

“I want you to know something, Lycia,” He begins softly, taking my hands in his own and looking into my eyes intently. “You’re always on my mind, no matter what I’m doing, whether I’m touring with my band or even being in the studio or regardless of where I am. You make me feel alive again and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I smile wider as tears gather in the corner of my eyes from hearing such sweet words from Chris, words I never expected to hear from anyone, let alone him. I wrap my arms around him tightly in response before gently pulling away so I can look into his brown eyes one more time.

“I love you,” I whisper softly before pressing another gentle kiss against his lips, conveying all the emotions that I was feeling once just through that single gesture.

Chris meets my kiss with one of his own, full of both adoration and passion as he looks into my eyes and notices the sincerity behind them, a warmth swelling in his chest.

He presses his forehead against mine once more, sighing happily as he holds me close to him, not wanting this moment to ever end.

"I love you too," He murmurs against my skin, letting out a content sigh as we stay there together for what seemed like hours but was actually only minutes.

As we break away, I curl into his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his arms around me. I hear the strong beat of his heart under my ear and feel his fingers move through my hair.

Chris holds me close to him, feeling the warmth of my body as our skin brushes one another’s. His heart’s beating steadily and strongly in his chest and I know he could feel the gentle rise and fall of my breaths as I press closer to him.

That's the kind of shit I like

Teach me how to love you

I'm unlearnin' what ain't right

I looked up at Chris and our eyes met with a deep understanding. His gaze is so full of love that it feels like his very soul is pouring out through them. The sensation overwhelms me that a single tear runs down my cheek. I finally have found someone who understands me and accepts every part of me.

Chris leans down and gently kisses the tear on my face before pressing his forehead against mine, a soft smile playing on his lips. He wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me closer while his other hand runs through my caramel brown hair, pushing some of the strands from my face.

“You are my everything,” He whispers softly before leaning in for a passionate kiss. The kiss is full of warmth and promise as we both surrender to the feelings we are experiencing at the moment.

I feel like this is where I truly belong; safe, warm and loved in Chris’s embrace. We break away after what seems like an eternity but in reality lasts a few moments before Chris gazes deeply into my hazel eyes again.

“I won’t let go of you, I promise,” He murmurs quietly before tucking my head into his chest once again, kissing the top of my head tenderly as we lay there peacefully together until sleep finally claims us both for a little while before we woke once more and continued what we started before.

We continued onward, making love from the darkest of night to the earliest of morning light. I was exhausted, sore but I loved every physical moment that I shared with Chris, even the lightest touch of his warm tattooed skin under my fingertips lit a fire in me and I’m happy.

As I lay beside him in his bed, curled up in his arms with my skin against his, feeling his chest rising and falling as he’s breathing and his heartbeat. I love how innocent he looks as he sleeps with me in his arms, I run a finger down his jawline, making him stir slightly in his sleep with a small smile on his lips. His chocolate brown eyes open after a moment and he looks at me.

“Mm, honey. Can't sleep?” He murmurs and his voice makes my heart melt.

I smile softly at him, I shake my head no at him and bite my lip to keep the tears from spilling out from my eyes, overwhelmed with emotion by how much I love him.

Chris leans in ever so slightly and caresses my forehead with his lips before pulling back to look into my eyes. He brushes a few strands of hair away from my face tenderly, his thumb caressing my skin lightly.

“How can I sleep when I have the sweetest man to ever exist laying by me?” I whisper as I run my fingers through his short blonde hair, letting out a content sigh as he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him, the warmth radiating off of him making it impossible for me to not feel safe and secure in his embrace.

Chris smiles fondly at me, his brown eyes twinkling with love and admiration as he caresses my face gently with one hand before leaning in for a passionate kiss that seems never ending; our tongues intertwining passionately while our hands explore each other’s bodies eagerly.

When we break away from each other, Chris presses his forehead against mine while he lets out a small laugh.

“I’m so glad you’re mine,” He says before capturing my lips and I happily obliged him, we kissed until we both have to take a breath.

I let out a light hum as I trace the tattoos that cover his arm, resting my forehead back on his.

“I’m glad I’m yours too,” I whisper. “You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Chris smiles at me and pulls me close into his arms.

"Me too," He says softly, nestling his head into the curve of my neck. We lay there for a long while in comfortable silence, only the sound of our breathing filling the room.

"I want to spend every second of my life with you," Chris says as he looks deep into my eyes.

I smile brightly and kiss him tenderly on the lips, feeling a warmth spread through me and a deep sense of contentment as I realize how lucky I am to have found someone like Chris.

I run my fingers through his blonde hair, playing with it absentmindly as I look into his warm brown eyes that holds so much love for me that I feel I could get myself lost in them forever.

I close my eyes and let out a contented sigh before pressing myself closer to Chris, savoring the moment we're sharing.

"I feel so safe when I'm with you," I whisper as I snuggle further into his embrace.

Chris smiles and kisses the top of my head before stroking my hair lovingly.

"Honey, I want you to always feel safe when you're with me," He said softly as he holds me close, letting out a satisfied sigh when I drape one arm around his body and nuzzle against him for comfort.

The two of us stay like that for a while, just enjoying each other.

"I never want this moment to end," I murmured, lifting my head so our eyes met.

Chris grins down at me and brushes away a strand of my caramel brown hair from my face tenderly.

"Me either, baby," He said softly before capturing my lips in a passionate kiss that seemed to go on forever, speaking volumes even without words about the love we have for each other.

When we finally break apart, I let out a content sigh before I snuggle against him again, letting the warmth of his body get me back into sweet dreams full of love and happiness.

I want you to keep speakin' my love language

Baby, talk your shit all night….

Credit to cafekitsune for the divider. 🖤🤌

#darkness finds you universe #chris motionless x lycia winters #chris motionless #motionless in white #chris motionless fanfic #i ship these two so much #Spotify

7 notes · View notes

unopenablebox · 6 days

Text

🌸 is in raptures of romantic ardor because i suggested we read the thrawn trilogy together as a "besties activity"

#i am being hailed as a great visionary.#we were bonding over our dissatisfaction with all recent star wars content relative to our respective preferred extended universe installmt #🌸: ''but andor WASN'T good! especially if you compare it to the dark empire comics run!''#and it turns out that neither of us had read all three thrawn trilogy books. so.#it's SO hot that theyre a really serious fan of the dark horse comics. i didn't even find out until we'd been together for years.

9 notes · View notes

wintertimestoryteller · 10 months

Text

Linked Universe x Reader Fairy Tale Collection

@luimagines It is finally here! XD Apologies for the huge delay, suddenly became a dog mom again and life has been difficult, apologies to all who waited. Hopefully it's at least half decent, this did not want to write itself at all X_X

Warning for dark themes of the fairy tale kind and violence. I recommend researching Penta by Basille if some of you are curious about the interrupted story, though I did leave a lot out for obvious reasons, the first story is actually a reference and I thought it would be fun to see how many catch it and who would notice the reversal of roles here. No Shadow Links were (seriously) harmed in the making of this chapter, just Reader and their poor mind who can't catch a break.

Technically this is the final act before the Masterlist for each Link, though there is technically a bonus act and an intermission I doubt anyone would be interested in that, y'all came here for the Links and the fairy tales not the lore and behind the scenes stuff done to get here because I decided to pull a Hans Christian Andersen even while trying to keep this as short as an opening act should technically be, might write them down if there's enough interest but for now I'm leaving it up to interpretation xP

Opening Act, Scene IIII

It's almost strange, how peaceful your first few days and nights in the theater were.

It was hardly unwelcome, of course it was a pleasant surprise. Even with it's darkened, solemn corners and the way the shadows played eerily across the walls, dancing and laughing mockingly as they put on a show only they knew, it hardly felt truly unsettling for long, maybe it was just your long time on the road which made you jaded to the concept of old buildings that felt like echoes of their former selves, ever lonely, ever grieving like a widow, knowing their lover would not return from the war but waiting for as long possible before considering taking poison. The building was much the same, threading the fragile, dreamlike barrier of a long, wistful forgotten dream and a feather soft, fondness warmed memory.

It felt just about on the edge of death, but not quite ready to cross the border, it felt alive, like watching a barren wasteland attempt to host life again, even if it wouldn't last long or ever recover.

You believe it's in large part due to it's residents.

It was impressive, really, though you're all clearly wary towards one another, the troupe was seemingly more delighted by the fact they had new people to tell new tales to than bothered by the fact the Chain was clearly high strung from a long journey with the carmine and jade weariness of hunters unable to continue searching for their quarry. Director Raven had given you all full permission to explore and was only ever truly strict with corralling the crew to perform, the obsidian speckled mist of their excitement reflected in the way their coat sleeves flapped while directing each member to their roles and how their steps practically glided across the floor and the stage, their feline companion ever present on their shoulders as they truly gave their name sake justice as they crowed and crooned new characters into Byron's ears, sparkling ruby glee as the bloody feather on their hair and gem collar at the gentleman's smile with the flame bright elation of a mad man as he worked on costumes, scenery and props like a man possessed occasionally hissing like an offended cat at Edgar, who was quick to bark and judge even the slightest imperfection as he marked cues for Anabella's scripts, the woman, once having heard of the Links musical prowess, having lit up like the chandelier serving as spotlight at the stage, gently having coaxed the boys towards Amelia, the petal soft smiling dark haired young woman you've met earlier whom Raven just couldn't help but squawk amusedly at Anabella having a very clear soft spot for, who wasted no time in convincing a few of the heroes to follow sheet music the young woman had written but never quite had enough people to help perform.

It was honestly amusing, seeing the young woman and Warriors practically team up to bully Legend into playing the violin again, the veteran protesting for a good while, until a small, well placed tease from Sky made him cave, you and Wind both pretending to hide bright laughs at seeing him pretend not to smile, the jewel bright sight of her delight making you feel warm as she suggested to the exccentric playwright to share your own stories with the troupe and the boys once again as the sweet notes of musical and Raven's narration rolled up and across the aisles, the ruby cheer of the chattering of their cheek with the sweet aquamarine of your gentleness making even the likes of ever serious steel serious Cal or solemn First smile.

The only incident any of you all had really was when you've met Priscilla properly, or to be more accurate, when Priscilla found you all, the youngest of the troupe popping from the ceiling like a bat in front of you from the theater's costume attic like a reverse phantom of the opera, giving you a small fright with her cat smug smile as she finished fixing the lights and eagerly jumped into Twilight's back the second she heard Epona being mentioned, asking all sorts of questions about horses and their proper care until Edgar came knocking to pry her off.

A few minor incidents were had, what with your boys' usual brand of chaos and only so much you, Time and First could do while Raven rounded up the brand of madness found in their own little troupe (like how Anabella, much like Hyrule, should not be allowed near any form of food supply lest they both commit crimes agaisnt nature and the last leg of Wild's morals and sanity, how Byron, Warriors and Legend could almost snarl at each other like feral dogs when it came to fashion sensibilities, or Priscilla attempting to coax Wind and Spirit onto the attic and catwalks with her to play pranks onto the unsuspecting audience and performers below just to see Four and Edgar twitch), but overall, the first three days of constant strong storms and two of the stories told passed quickly, like the heartbeat of a humming bird.

... Which made your own feelings for a certain hero grown ever more transparent like the polished crystal which made up the spotlight.

How could you not contemplate these feelings? How could you even begin denying something that has been sinking it's teeth into your soul for months now? Ever since the Chain found you, injured and with nowhere to go, it was always moving, ever forward, ever running, ever hunting, for if you all didn't hunt the shadow, it would stop at nothing to tear everything and everyone so much as grazed by the bright, ever burning diamond flame of the Hero's Spirit, with the burning fury of a maddened beast with nothing left to lose, with enough hunger it could render divinity to pieces. So, so so wrong to the very fabric that made up the curtain of Hyrule's stage it made one's flesh crawl before it even set it's bloody, hungry, vile gaze upon you.

(You didn't have a choice, when they'd left you behind, the portal simply opened to place you in harm's way again and again and again and again, you only survived through pure luck most of the time, the other half being due to run ins with different members of the Chain. Eventually, finally, after you'd met again and dragged First's abandoned, bleeding, almost dead but oh so stubborn he wouldn't die quite yet, carcass to camp, they'd decided to teach you how to wield a blade and take you along.

After all, it's not like you could go home.

... No, no, you couldn't go home, ever again.)

Being in the theater was a welcome breath of fresh air, even with the oddities of it's residents. But it also gave you nothing but time to think. About home, about the people who are likely to be looking for you, and kind gem bright eyes, leaves on the wind gentle touches, and smiles that could put the sun and the moon and stars to shame with their radiance and the unshakable, beautiful, lonsdaleite and steel of the will to protect and courage to follow through so, so warm it left you scorched, stealing the breath from your lungs and replacing it with lava and frost, pinning you into place better than any arrow or trick the shadow could pull. Left you aching more than any moment in the battle field, shaking you to the very marrow of your bones as the laughing dove that was affection stole into your heart like a thief, and gave half of it to the beast called love.

And

Was

Torture.

How could you not fall for that?

How could you not think about it?

So instead of getting even more flustered by possibly slipping up and making a fool out of yourself, giving yourself away and wanting to just wander into the Lost Woods without a guide and let yourself go mad from mortification and become a Poe (because at least then it would be a more manageable form of insanity), you'd instead taken to haunting the back wings and auditorium of the theater like a ghost. The theater was hardly all that big, but it wasn't small by any means, the size of a noble's summer home at best, so there was plenty of empty supply rooms and forgotten lounges to think, contemplate, and to keep a tenous hold on your sanity as you avoided dwelving deeply into your feelings.

After all, why would he want little old you? Unimpressive, ordinary little you, who lived a most relatively peaceful life before falling into Hyrule, who couldn't protect them properly, who most importantly of all would hurt the one you adored because you couldn't stay?

... It would be agony, you couldn't do that to him. It wouldn't be any difference than the Shadow taking your face and torturing your hero, so you'd stay silent, and hope these feelings died a quiet, peaceful death. At least in this abandoned lounge room you could refrain from making your hopeless longing obvious until you'd need to return.

"Oh me oh my, what are you doing here all alone?" Came a cawed, lilting honey coated rasp, padparascha curiosity in the the flap of nightlock coat sleeves, "I thought you'd want to join your companions! This place is still too dusty for back tours I'm afraid."

... Well, not quite so abandoned now. Is it?

Then again, you're not even too surprised, you'd be lying if you'd say you were. If there was anyone who could navigate these darkned, old halls with ease to find someone allegedly missing, it would likely be it's master.

Director Raven swoops into the room with quick, almost silent steps, a specter with the grace of a Gerudo dancer, sending you a smile, their feline companion is gone, but their ever present bloodstone feather chimes like a bell as they brush dust off an old couch, you laugh sheepishly, hoping that the tempest winds outside took your thoughts away so you could focus, "I'm sorry, you said we could go just about everywhere and I needed some time alone. Hopefully it's not any trouble?"

They cluck at you, taking a new accessory from their coat and placing it behind your ears with a cheeky poke to the nose, you blink as you touch it, a red, red rose, "Oh please, not at all! I'm a professional of my word you know? I was just worried is all, you're basically part of the troupe at this point and your lover boy has been staring at you with such concern, you know? So I thought I'd check on you."

Their concern makes you blink, with a small bite of confusion to their wording, "I've only helped you folks perform for three days now?"

They chuckle with amusement, the tone raspy and crowing as they perch themselves upon the couch, "Doesn't matter! We've had folks who stayed and helped for less time, we still consider them troupe members. Once taken in by the Astoria, you're part of it for all time, can't I have some empathy for someone so clearly pining?", You jolt, the director gives you a knowing smile, mercury amusement and gallium understanding, how did...? "Broken hearts are as dangerous as broken minds and wills to a person, take it from me. I've told and been part of one too many stories to know that all too well, now, why don't you tell good old uncle Raven what ails you?"

That makes you snort, rose quartz embarrassment mixed with xanthic amusement, "Uncle, really? Weren't you the one who said you'd actually take someone to court for emotional damages if someone tried utilizing gendered terms for you?"

They squawk, ruffling your hair with a click and hiss, as they jump up with ruffled feathers and a raised chin, mock offended, "Oh kiss my grits! This ain't about me here. This is about your longing making me sad and me being willing to hear you out from the goodness of my heart, and there you go! Spitting on my good will! As I was about to offer to make you tea, no less."

You laugh and you catch a grin on the director's lips from the reflection of a mirror, you wave them on, "Alright, alright. I'll humor you, will you want some help deciding the next story to tell while at it?"

They wink, prancing around the room for the kettle in the corner, "You know me too well! You're a wealth of new stories, I can listen to you pour your little heart out and grill you for inspiration at the same time. That way your heart will be lighter than a leaf on the wind when you next see your lover boy"

Settling in, you wait until Raven has made you both tea, getting comfortable and taking a sip.

Mhm, coming to the theater was a welcome change of pace. And talking to someone who wasn't Link about this would likely do you good.

(So preoccupied you are with your thoughts and the vaguely floral tea the director had broken out of storage and brewed, you don't notice the way another figure shows up on the reflection of the mirror just as the thunder booms, and how Raven's gloved fingers tighten a fraction as the shadows flicker oddly once you drink the tea. The cinnabar of their smile turning iron speckled with guilt and tense as they spot bloodstone tiger eyes on the doorway. Before turning fireplace warm once the Hero of Skies popped his head onto the doorway after a few hours of listening to you want, they offer him a spot of tea.)

----------------------------------------------------------

The storm still raged on relentlessly outside, it's screams and howls those of lost souls and old forgotten or yet to be remembered deities rending the air with water and thunder, it's been almost a week since you all had started staying in the theater, everyone had settled into a small sort of routine, as it didn't seem like the storm would cease to rage anytime soon. You'd all wake up (checking your weapons as you go, just in case, your dagger on your sleeve a common secret among the Chain members ever since a bad run in with the Yiga, Artemis had taught you and Warriors well and if any of the troupe members notice, they didn't press), go through the usual daily routine you all had while under an actual roof, Wild, you and Twilight would cook with occasional aid from either Raven themselves who twitched and squawked about the injustice of allowing guests to cook before Edgar would cuff them over the head and take over or a very chipper Amelia whose early morning energy could only be likened to a ray of sunshine Anabella would trip over her feet and possibly kill a grown man for, and in turn you'd all take your turns occupying themselves for the day, the troupe making sure to give everyone their due space until the early evening, which is when you'd all take to storytelling.

You couldn't help your small grin as you let yourself be led by the hand by Twilight, blindfold coming off as he twirled you around as you deliberately sang an incredibly off key note, laughter and chuckles being draw from your boys as you were set down onto the stage and raised your tune, his pelt slipping off your head like the heavy, but comforting cape it was, his smile campfire warm and oak steady, Raven's crowing laughter being hidden by a coughing fit before they seemed to compose themselves enough to continue on with a straight face, "And so the wolf, once a princess, remembered the prince. And thought she'd never sing again, and it wasn't very good-" they choked as you deliberately hit a note that sounded like a dying cucco, you can vaguely see Cal coughing into his fist, First shaking his head in amusement in contrast to Sky's summer breeze laughter while Time's lips barely twitched with honey sweet amusement and Wind wheezing agaisnt a laughing Spirit's side, mission accomplished! The director sent you a look, mockingly ruffling his feathers, "Commit less to the bit darn it! I won't be able to finish if I'm rolling around on the floor!"

Your smile widens with cheek, topaz bright with delight, "No such thing as overcommiting to the bit!"

"For what it's worth they don't sound too bad when not trying to sound like a goat going into labor." Cut in Twilight, using your head as an arm rest, you playfully shove him off, you briefly catch a smirk on Warriors face, Four chuckling while Legend leant agaisnt his side for support, good. Him and Hyrule looked off kilter recently, if you could make them smile by playing the fool this once, you'd be glad.

"Oh by the Goddesses- I'm almost regretting allowing you to volunteer on stage. I'm never listening to Priscilla ever again, anyway!" They clap their hands, clearing their throat, "The prince couldn't care less, for he had a dear friend back to him. And so they stayed on that cliff's edge, enjoying each other's company and lived happily ever after!"

"That was a shockingly sweet story," Smiled Hyrule, "Short and simple but just sweet enough."

"Can't believe the rancher actually made half decent royalty though." Jabbed Warriors, though you can feel the amusement in his tone like drinking songs after a long time of conflict. "And that the final conflict was basically triggered if someone ever messed with the vet's raccon pile of stuff."

"Excuse me?!"

"You're excused."

Twilight gave him a side glare then nodded at Hyrule, seemingly deciding that Legend could deal with Warriors well enough and after you playfully darted around him like a prancing doe, snagged his pelt back, you sighed at the loss of warmth and the feeling of security, but ushered him off the stage, "Never been on stage before and have no wish to do so on an official capacity, thank you. But Dusk would have my hide if I didn't pick a thing or two to add to entertaining the village children if nothing else. Have to say that last twist was a shock though." He sent you a glance and smile, "You're awfully good at playing the amnesiac, I'll say. Almost had me panicking."

You chuckle sheepishly, sitting at the edge of the stage, accepting a bit of warm tea cup Raven had brewed for everyone, "To be fair, there's a reason for that Wars, there's technically a companion story for the witch, but the actors need to go through a specific series of actions to be allowed to perform it side by side for consistency and that would be cruel on Twi. Could say the same to you, you make quite the dashing, kind prince. Thanks for coming up here."

Was that a tinge of crimson on his cheeks? You tilted your head and blinked, must have been a trick of the light, "No problem at all."

Edgar nodded, not even looking up from the script as Anabella and Amelia cuddled together to the side after a job well done, "You both together definitely made our job easier. Barely had to cue you both."

Raven nodded with a grin and wink, their voice carrying over the stage and to the audience, "You sure none of you boys want to quit this questing nonsense and join us here on the Astoria? I pay well and give benefits! Byron has lowered prices on potions on the village, plus free food and lodging."

Wild shook his head with a hum, "Tempting, but still no."

Raven clucked, their disappointment exaggerated but understanding as they leafed through the scripts you've both brainstormed together, "Ah well, worth a try. Come here then, I want your opinion on our next pick for today, I think we can squeeze a short one separated from the original deal as a bonus."

You nodded, getting up and handing Priscilla the empty tea cup back before walking over, pausing, did... Was there a hollow space beneath the stage? Experimentally, you let your steps weight a bit more onto the stage. That sounded like a trapdoor, huh. Why only use the attic? Maybe it was stuck? You catch Time's eye, he inclines his head questioningly, you mouth at him 'I'm fine, later', then bound over to Raven's side, looking at the scripts, "Any you had in mind? We're probably exhausting my mental stock at this rate if none of the noted ones do."

"Well I'm not about to go on the Hyrulean ones just yet, you have any idea how performing the same old legends over and over again can grow dull? No matter how many twists and turns one adds?" They deadpan back, you cover a wince as Four and Sky twitch, before picking one of the sheets at random.

Your voice sounds distant to your ears as you pinch the parchment between two fingers, analyzing it critically, then presenting it to the director, "How about this one? Should be short enough right?"

The Director peeks over your shoulder, head tilted from side to side, the feather on their hair seems more bloody than usual, as if the crystal would flow crimson and stain the hardwood floor. That cat is back on their shoulder again, looking at you with sharp, intelligent eyes.

(Too intelligent, hisses your mind, as mercury heats into burning iron at a forge, then cools, something is wrong wrongwrong

Come now, relax, it'll all be alright. Play along

Nothing is wrong, it's all in your head.)

"Penta the Beautiful huh? Are you sure?"

You nod firmly, "Yes. This one will do quite nicely."

(Raven's ever present smile dims, the embers of a warm fireplace and stories around the fire dying a quick death, Anabella holds onto Amelia a bit tighter as Priscilla pales, quickly leaving the room guided by Byron after ushering you back stage for a change of ensemble and to hand you the appropriate props while Edgar resolutely keeps an eye on the cues the director handed him.

The Chain notices, because of course they do, and trade a look, Spirit trades a look with Wind and slips away to the entrance with Warriors to try the heavy door.

It's locked, the shock of magic making the captain hiss. Though the air remains unnervingly sterile.)

The stage is set with no fanfare by Byron, and you walk back out with a fine white dress suit and boots to match, a mix of a suit and a dress, your head feels clouded, as if you're trying to traverse the deep fog of the Lost Woods with naught a single lantern or guide in sight to light your way, you vaguely hear Director Raven start to talk, echoing and crowing raspily with the first words that every good tale start with, "Once upon a time, there was an once prosperous kingdom. Home to a handsome king, a beautiful queen, and the king's sister, one day the queen fell ill and eventually passed for no cure could be found and no magic could heal her. I suppose some things are simply fated to happen, but the king, maddened in his grief, started lusting for none other..." The director paused, sneering with a disgusted shiver, you think that if they truly were a bird, their feathers would be ruffled, "His own sister."

You could see the exact second that each Link cringed back, those with siblings of their own (or who actively looked over others as siblings themselves) turning to ash white and to thistle green with revulsion and horror, the director nodding along with a hand over their head in a mock swoon, "I know! How could such vile thoughts manifest in a ruler's mind? It's preposterous! Outrageous! Horrifying! Though the words of a proposal did indeed leave his mouth, his sister princess was equally bewildered and disgusted, spitting venom from her spleen with rage."

That was your cue.

You growled, snarling with fury hot enough to rival a dragon's flame, allowing poison to sharpen your tongue, "You may have lost your mind, but I shall not lose my modesty or my shame! Why would you offer me rotten eggs when you need fresh ones?! How dare you!", somewhere in the audience you hear a choke, but you continue on. Committing to the role with a dedication you didn't know you possibly possessed, feeling vaguely disconnected from your body and actions, "I regret that you have a tongue to speak of such lecherous actions towards myself and that I unfortunately have the ears to hear such a suggestion. Am I your sister or cheese cooked in oil? Either way those and siblings not mix! Either way, go find a holy spring to bathe in so you may set your mind back on straight." You gesture towards yourself, baffled, "I am not a morsel that would make anyone lose their minds over, so what on Farore's good land about me could have made you grown so sick in the head?"

The director continued on, tone dry as they set their hand on a hip, "I'll spare you the monologue, my dear audience, because I'm sure it would make both you, me and our poor performer here retch and that would be a waste of Sir Wild's lovely cooking. It essentially boiled down to her hands. So, after acquiring her answer, she left in a flurry of rage and conviction, after all, if it was her hands that caused this..." The director trailed off, pausing, mouth clicking shut.

As if not willing to continue on.

(The pain in your head was getting worse.

"If it was his love for her hands which caused this, all she'd need to do is chop them off.")

Conflict passes through their slate gray gaze, before determined resolve settles into it, their tone quiet and tight, "... No. I can't go through with this anymore.", They swivel, running to you with quick strides, you feel the agony of your head splitting open, in between the haze you see more than react to the blade. Your blade held in your hands, twisted in such a way to sink into your flesh, blood beads onto your sleeve before Raven catches your arm in their hands, twisting towards the now alarmed heroes with panic on their face like a someone realizing they'd just went somewhere to die, "Listen! It's not safe here, specially NOT for them. I'm so sorry. Take them and get out through-"

That cat is there in a flash of darkness, it sinks it's claws into Raven's shoulder, the director crying out and letting go of your arm to try and get it off, leaving the dagger to slice deeply. You can see Time slam into a magically erected barrier around the stage as it's crimson eyes gleam with malice and satisfaction. The cat bites at the director's shoulder, tearing away the black ribbon holding the red gem they always wore. You hear Legend screaming and Hyrule casting a spell at the barrier, the shockwave palpable as it does not budge

You'll never know what they wanted to tell you all, though the flash of desperation, guilt and apologies will likely haunt your nightmares as their head fell off.

All of the lights go off.

And in a flash of thunder, you hear a sigh behind you. The barest tips of a clawed hand making your skin crawl with revulsion.

"Well... I'd like to say I'm surprised. But I'm really, really not that they didn't have the nerve to fully go through with it. Pity." That awful, awful voice is colored with disappointment while they pass you by, you think you feel the brush of a scaly tail around your legs and a blade at your throat. You try desperately to wrestle control back to your own body when you can't hear the Chain anymore. They stalk dance gently at your side, the rustle of cloth as someone bends down, the crystalline, padparascha crimson feather Raven always wore in their hair gleams in the dark with a melancholic light of their own, "Ah well, at least they did half the job I wanted them to and held onto what I needed. Still, just proves that if you want somebody gone that you just have to do it yourself."

You feel a feather light touch on your chin, tilting your head up, your heart freezes alongside your body as you lock gazes with the bloodstone empty gaze of a feathery mask, the figure in front of you wears a dark hood, caliginous and fleeting like the memories of a nightmare hanging onto your mind by it's very claw tips. It blends in perfectly with the darkness, liminal and just on the edge of the negative spaces of reality.

They smile with all of the sweetness of rotten things and arsenic and it makes you sick.

"Dear me... You are so, so pathetically helpless like this. I can take my time with you, can't I? To tear everything that makes you yourself piece.by.piece..." the touch tightens, nightlock claws sink into your skin and drawing blood, you feel like screaming but your mouth won't open, your body betrays you as you drown and drown and fall. It makes the thing behind you hiss out a laugh and you are certain you won't hear a more wretched sound in your life as they study you like a pinned butterfly, "How very precious, it fills me with joy, but really it's more disappointing and disgusting. It's almost enough to make me want to die!" The being in front of you snarls, all venom and the burning flames of a madman, before they calm, smiling a dagger sharp, hateful grin with a hum, "... Ah, whatever. Let's get this show on the road properly this time, shall we? You wait for your cue darling." They mockingly pat the snout of the Shadow in front of you, narrowingly dodging a snap of teeth with a cackle, before they disappear in a flurry of obsidian and ember feathers.

They clap, and the light returns to the theater. Their mismatched hands are spread, clawed and gloved and you see a cloak of black feathers laid over their entire body, the tip of dagger sharp, silver heels making them tower easily over the pool of blood from the director's severed neck.

"Good evening, blood red dogs of Hylia!-"

They barely finish their sentence before the boys move, arrows and magic set loose at the figure in a blur, the figure dances back, tsking as they appear on the chandelier now, lounging nonchantly and revealing your form at blade point from the Shadow, struggling to remove your dagger from your arm. You can almost feel their disapproving look as they cross their arms at the face of furious glares from the heroes of Hyrule, "Rude."

First does not look amused as he stays Sky's hand from unleashing a Skyward Strike, the other's eyes as frigid as the storm outside, "We are going to need you to let our companion go before any apologies are given I'm afraid."

"And I'll be needing you lot to stop snapping and growling like mutts before making any negotiations like that." The figure snaps back primly, a pot and tea cup appearing nearby, with a flick of their wrist two things appear on their hands as freshly brewed tea poured itself which makes a shiver fun down your side, alarm and panic gnawing at your skin and exposing your fragile heart with almost clinical curiosity as they toss it down.

A dark iris purple Minish Feather earring, and penumbra dark, torn fairy feathers, you think you still see the bits of wisps clinging to it like blood and the exact moment Four tenses, colors prismatic as they flash over his eyes and Hyrule freezes, Twilight sending them a concerned look, though his hand doesn't move from his sword.

The display is enough to keep your companions on guard, but not react, that thing atop the chandelier perfectly positioned to crush you without a second thought leisurely sipping tea. Before addressing the Chain below, "Now that I've successfully gotten your attention by indicating the extermination of vermin I've had to recently do, why don't we talk? I'm perfectly reasonable, I promise not to bite or anything, blood is quite the nuisance to clean off rhe stage after all."

"Very well," Time's voice cuts through the silence, composed even as his mind is running a mile per minute, "May we make some inquiries?"

Their lips curl in amusement, a slightly mocking edge to their relaxed lilt, "There we go, was being polite so hard? You may, one at a time though!" They look down at the Shadow, which hisses up at them, eyes focused on the heroes, the edges of it's existence flickering oddly, casting itself over walls and the now scorched wooden floor, "Don't want to agitate our friend here you know? Or else we'll have a sparrow singing very very soon." They sing song, you can feel Warriors cringe where he stands, but he's also the first one to jump to questioning at Time's slight nod.

"Why are you working with the Shadow?"

The figure shrugs, pouring themselves a second mug, "Why does anyone do anything? Complete and utter, sheer boredom is why. It had a good sales pitch won't lie, I haven't been bored since you lot decided to stay here."

You see the way Legend's eyes narrow, a scowl on his face and tone biting, itching to move, "What did you do to them?"

"You'll have to be more specific, if you mean your little friend here. Nothing really, they came up on the stage and used the knife themselves after all." The masked figured clucked, shrugging, "As for the rest, you can blame Raven. They lost their nerve when they shouldn't have and dragged the troupe down with them, when I gave them one job besides watching my theater, plus..." they sighed, placing Raven's feather by the thorns holding the mask grafted onro their face, clicking their clawed, bloody hand agaisnt the tea cup, uncaring when your blood mixes with the sugar cubes, "They also failed to do proper research, I mean doesn't help certain nasty little disgraces-" they growl pointedly at the Shadow at that, who snarls back, making a twisted duet of mutual, black loathing come to life, "Also made their job harder, but seriously. Even a braindead donkey could have done a bit more research."

"What do you mean? No need to insult Raven like that! They were nice." Blurted out Spirit, you can practically feel the poor dear itching to snap the whip to snatch you, Wind holding onto his an Cal's wrists like a vice so they wouldn't make any sudden moves, First tapping Calamity's back and looking at the hooded being's perch, making Calamity's eyes narrow and Sky slowly let go of the possible Skyward Strike, thankfully enough. Being crushed to death would not help your boys get out of here.

The hooded and masked figure twitched, head listing lazily to the side, unhurried, as if bored or maybe dissapointed as they sighed apathetically, it gave you gooseflesh, but you dared not move an inch, struggling against your own limbs and with the Shadow at your back, "I mean I was just taken by surprise. You know, I wouldn't have taken the heroes of Hyrule for liars and oath breakers, and also against the laws of hospitality. Shooting arrows and magic at your host within their own home? For shame! Didn't your parents teach you better?"

You could see how each of the heroes bristled, but seeing crimson beading against your unwilling, trapped skin stayed their blade, though that did not stop Legend from snarling up at the hidden figure, sipping tea as if it was watching an incredibly entertaining play, "Oath breakers? That's rich coming from you! Raven said we could stay here safely and then leave once the storm was over!"

"And you attacked one of our own first." Added Warriors, his tone as glacial as the winter winds, enough to freeze anyone down to the marrow.

They incline their head, voice distorted, the screaming echo of scavengers like nails on chalkboard and as refined as a well curated blade, "True, though neither they nor I never said you'd all leave unharmed, did we? And you didn't keep your end of the deal either." Their tone goes dryer, as they throw the tea cup away without a care in favor of throwing their hands up, as if it was the Chain being unreasonable and not the person who presumably did something to Shadow and Hyrule's own Shade, you can see Sky barely keeping his grip on an enraged Four, "Besides! I didn't attack them, they kindly volunteered to go up stage on their own. You're all so up in arms for something that's part of the performance, a little injury is a small price to pay for the bit."

"A 'little injury'?! I doubt they'd try cutting off their own hands for a BIT." Stressed Hyrule, snapping out of his shock, in response to that, the cloaked person shrugged.

"I mean a little disarment never killed anyone."

Wild looked seconds from firing another arrow, teeth gritted and bared as Twilight sent a furious glare to the one perched atop the stage, just above the lights, ready to knock them down and crush you if needed be, "I'm pretty sure it has, actually."

"Anyway! You're all so caught up on semantics, by the Three, so uptight. Does having the splinters so far up there not sting?" they glanced at the Shadow, the obsidian and granite lizalfos glancing back at them before hissing at Time, ready to lunge, teeth stained with Director Raven's blood, "This the kind of tough crowd you have to deal with? Yeesh, no wonder you yap more than a kicked dog at times." They turn back to the Chain, clapping their hands, "In any case, let's make another deal, shall we? I'm a playwright of my word after all. You could leave your little friend here to become one of my actors and go on your merry way." You swore you felt your heart stop, blood rushing in your ears, you barely caught the sharp glint of a hollow smile beneath the crow shaped mask and their next words, "Or! If you're really that attached-", they send you a bemused look, "Can't see why but hey," shrugging, they continue on, unrelenting like a hunting wolf, "You can act instead. I'll send you all into different tales and should you finish them in accordance to the script, I may let you just leave without too much of a fuss. No catches." They point to the Shadow, "Can't make any promises for that one though, it's a solo act you see, if anything I'm just lending the venue and he was lucky to rent first, the wretch."

"And if we refuse?" Probed Time, you could see the gears turning in his head like clockwork, trying to find a way to swing this in everyone's favor so you all can get out alive.

The vulture in crow skin only smiled wider, "Then none of us gets them and you die here, I'll let the Shadow tear you apart to it's void soul's delight, and kill them on the spot." The blades press against your arms against your will, and you twitch, trying to wrestle control back and only getting pain for you troubles, muffling a yell, "Maybe put them in a soup and make jewelry out of the bones that I don't reuse in a broth, I'd look pretty dashing in a crown." They giggle, unhinged cruelty into every word as they clap their hands, voice rising to a screeching crescendo, "Oh oh! Or just roll them down a barrel filled with spikes on a hill, or make them dance and dance and dance on hot iron shoes until they drop dead! Haven't decided yet, so many choices, so little time. It's almost enough to leave me hot and bothered." The true owner of the theater sighed, longingly hugging themselves before turning a cold, hard tone to the heroes, "You sure you want to risk that?"

Silence descends upon the theater like a widow's shroud, seems you're all at an impasse, you're unable to move and while you're certain your boys could overpower whatever that monstrosity is and deal with the Shadow, none of you could be sure they could do it before the Shadow slit your throat or that being (person? No, it felt too unnatural to be human.) Knocked the chandelier down or made good on their threat.

The masked unknown simply summoned themseles a second mug, pouring more tea, "Take your time to answer. I can wait. Though if you ask me the choice is extremely obvious, come on now, what's one more or one less for your little group? It's not like they're important to the narrative anyway-"

"No tricks?" Cut in First, you see the being twotch at the interruption.

"Rude. Seriously, does Hylia just likes to pick the feral ones and set them loose upon the world? Seems like bad business." They pause, then hum, "Then again, maybe not, I hear her incarnations can be quite unhinged. Quite the match made in hell, you lot then and those Demise decides to live rent free in huh? I almost feel bad now. Yikes, my condolences." They pluck a bouquet of camellias, roses and acacias from the inside of their cloak and throw it down to the Chain. You're not even surprised when Wild snags the fire rod from Legend and sets it aflame.

"Holding our friend hostage and talking about actively killing them doesn't inspire us to play nice." Gritted out Four. Grip tight onto his sword.

"If you feel bad then just let them go!" Gestured Wind from his side.

"Your criticism has been noted. I only don't concede because I can't see any reason why you'd want them around." The figure drawls back before answering First, "No tricks or catches or too much of a fuss, all you have to do is play along the script and play nice. Do that and in theory we shouldn't have much trouble. Maybe I'll even be nice and throw in one of those rewards like the places you all crawl through do on occasion, why not?" The Shadow roars at that, they snap down at it, "My theater, my rules! I'm bored okay? Let me spice things up!"

Time breathes, you can see the lonsdaleite persistence come back to the forefront, "Then we accept."

The figure stills, before shaking their head, they leap down from the chandelier, gliding across the stage with quick steps as the feeling of drowning recedes, the Shadow begrudgingly letting you go as you gasp, the figure snags your arm in one clawed hand, drags you to the edge of the stage, then kicks you off with a sigh, thankfully, Twilight and Warriors are there ro support you as they turn towards Time, tone blank as they extend that same clawed hand, "Way to pick the boring choice, but fine. I shouldn't expect much of a surprise I suppose." They shake hands, you feel the hum of magic settle into the air, twisted and wrong it almosy brings that drowning feeling back, water trying to pull you down as they grin and step back, opening a blank, black book, snagging the crystalline quill and using your blood as ink, they write, everything goes dark quickly as the Shadow snuffs out every light again as it dissolves, spreading ober every single nook and cranny of the open space.

You think they bare their teeth at you specifically before snapping the book shut, "Let me weave you a tale!"

----------------------------------------------------------

Scene IIII End. Thus closes the Opening Act.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe au #lu x reader #linked universe fairy tale au #fairy tale typical violence #fairy tale typical dark themes #reference to Penta of the Chopped Off Hands #told y'all not to get attached to the theater crew #Reader is going through it and frankly it's probably gonna go downhill from there #wonder how many will catch the reference with Twilight #I thought it would be cute to be fair. Reader has a lot of knowledge from our world and they'd likely convert as many stories as they could #for variety if nothing else #Dink's hired help here just wants to watch the world burn and preferably roast Reader over a fire while at it #why? that's for me to know and y'all to find out lol #they're not really relevant to the plot. they're just here to kick it into gear. cause chaos. be dramatic and bully Dink #specially if he messes up the venue #No Shadow Links were Permanently Harmed in the Making of this Chapter #WintertimeStoryteller Stop Clowning Yourself and Stick to the OG Outline Challenge (Failed Miserably)#That moment when you write and rewrite the chapter and has a nice little plan for the story #but sleep deprivation and life happens so you have to throw it out the window #Reade is all over the place because they're meant to don't worry. The theater just Does That #no beta we die like my sanity #no beta we die like First and the Hero's Shade #WintertimeStoryteller Writing #Hopefully it's at least half decent

28 notes · View notes