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rip-quizilla · 7 months

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Impossible to Hate You ~ Part 5

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: Everything is falling- leaves from the trees, rain from the sky, you for Eddie, and Eddie for you.

Word Count: 10.1 K

A/N: Big thanks to @the-unforgivenn (happy birthday❤️) for all of the help you gave me on this chapter, and honestly this whole fic in general. You've been an invaluable part of the writing process of this story, and the fact that you care so much about Eddie & Ace just makes me feel so loved... you don't even know. Ily wifey✨

Thank you @vintagehellfire for your priceless tattoo knowledge- I hope I did you proud!!

Also thanks to @blueywrites for helping me decide on what Eddie would tattoo on reader back in our Tumblr DMs in June😂 y'all that's how long I've had this scene in my brain. This part of the story has been a long time coming.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Part 5

Fall, 1983

“Rick, are you serious, man?”

“Dead serious, I’ll sell it to you for twenty.”

You caught the tail end of their conversation as you approached the red plastic picnic table in Forest Hills trailer park. Today was the first day of fall, and while it may not have felt like biting cold and crunchy leaves yet, it did feel like flannels tied around waists and long-dead grass that broke beneath the soles of your shoes. You hopped up onto the surface of the table, swinging your feet around to rest beside Eddie where he sat on the bench.

“Sell what?” you asked, producing three cans of Coke from your bag that you’d brought from home and handing one to each of the boys. Rick had grown accustomed to your presence since the spring, so he actually cracked a smile when he answered your question and nodded in thanks as he accepted the can.

“Munson wants to buy my old tattoo gun.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, seriously?” you asked Eddie.

He didn’t take his eyes off Rick. “And I’m wondering what the catch is if you’re selling it to me for so cheap.”

You cracked open your can of soda with a hiss, joining Eddie in his Rick stare-down. “Hmm,” you mused, “I bet he forgot to clean it and it’s staph-infested.”

“Nope,” Rick popped the ‘p’ after taking a swig from his shiny red can. “Never been used, so I can guarantee it’s staph-free. Always meant to use it, but after that brush with the cops I had last month, I don’t want to risk having it.”

You narrowed your eyes at Eddie, trying to discern whether or not he’d thought about the fact that if he bought it, then he would be in possession of paraphernalia for illegal Indiana activities.

Then again, you knew he smoked weed and that was most definitely against the law as well, and he hadn’t been caught yet. You trusted him not to be stupid enough to get arrested.

You turned your line of questioning on Eddie. “Why on earth do you need a tattoo gun anyway?”

“Well you see, Ace-” Eddie lifted one of your feet up from the bench, straightening your leg and presenting your right shoe- your white converse, half covered in mythical creatures and random doodles that Eddie had slowly been adding to with his fine-tipped Sharpie ever since you’d bought them in early August. “-it seems that I need a canvas for my art, and it won’t be long before I run out of shoe.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So now people are the canvas?”

Eddie held up his arms, bare skin nearly translucent in the afternoon sun. His nearly-too-small Iron Maiden tee showcased just how much bare skin he had to spare along the contours of his limbs. “If by people you mean me, then yeah.”

“You’re going to tattoo yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Without practicing on someone else first?”

Eddie smirked, “You volunteering?”

You rolled your eyes, but for some odd reason the idea stuck. You decided to play along.

“Let’s say I am, what would the tattoo be?”

Eddie hadn’t anticipated this answer. He was so surprised, in fact, that he choked on the soda that he’d just sipped into his mouth before your question. In a cacophony of coughs and wheezes, Eddie managed to regain his composure as you smiled wryly, feeling as though you’d bested him somehow in some small way. To fluster him with something as small as this, something he hadn’t expected.

“You’re serious? You want a tattoo?” Eddie responded skeptically, before turning away from you to fiddle with his soda can still held in his hands.

You shrugged, as if he were asking if you wanted a pizza, not a permanent brand inked on your skin. “Why not? I think I’d look pretty badass with a tattoo.”

You weren’t sure what was making you feel so bold today, but you had a feeling it might be related to the thought of Eddie covered in ink that wound up and down his skin that was making you ache to touch it when it was still naked and peach-pale. You scooched a couple inches down the tabletop to the left, placing your seat directly behind Eddie’s neck.

Then, in a stroke of something between bravery, stupidity, and need, you carefully slung your legs over Eddie’s shoulders so that they sat in the bends of your knees.

It was a simple gesture- familiar, even. You made a point to lean back a little, bracing your hands behind you on the tabletop so that the apex of your thighs stayed a good distance from the back of Eddie’s neck. You felt Eddie’s shoulders stiffen, each muscle under your jeans tensing for a moment before relaxing into the closeness.

Then Eddie brought his hands to your ankles, his fingertips brushing the spare skin between your high tops and the cuffs of your jeans. The pads of his thumbs barely caressed the skin but they felt like a kiss- a thing coveted and then forbidden, then coveted even more.

His touch drifted over your legs, warm hands coming to rest over your shins and squeeze, heating the denim that separated his skin from yours. You were holding your breath. You’d been so confident a second ago yet here he was, knocking the very air from your lungs.

You waited anxiously for him to say something; if he didn’t you were sure you were going to do something stupid. Something that would involve more of his skin on your skin.

“Would you want this tattoo of yours to show?” Eddie asked at last, breaking the silence between the two of you- well, the three of you. Rick was still there, taking in the sight before him with a smirk on his face.

“Not easily, my parents would kill me.” you said, ensuring that your tone of voice was nonchalant, casual. “But I don’t see the harm in something small that I could hide.”

Eddie tilted his head back and up, earthen eyes flicking up to yours. “What happened to ‘looking badass’?”

You pursed your lips as you leaned forward, bringing your faces to hover parallel over each other. “You’re saying that taking my pants off to reveal a surprise tatty isn’t badass?”

You watched as Eddie’s eyes flashed darker for a split second- nearly imperceptibly so- before his lips stretched sinfully into a mischievous grin. “Oh, under the pants then, huh?”

His hands traced higher, ghosting on your knees and burning his fingerprints through your jeans.

“Easy to hide,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “It’s a practical placement.”

Eddie’s thumbs stroked absentminded circles into the flesh of your lower thighs, tight denim puckering with the motion. “Practical placement…” he murmured, low enough that it sounded like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud.

“You could put it on your hip.”

Both of your heads whipped around to focus on Rick, who was grinning at both of you like he’d just discovered a fun new game to play. He shrugged, hopping up to sit beside you on the tabletop. “You want it to be hidden all of the time, right?” he leaned to shove you congenially with his shoulder. “When’s a good girl like you gonna be showing off some hip? I bet the only one who’ll see that will already be married to you when he lays eyes on-”

“Hey!” you interjected. “You act like I’m some prude, I’m not a nun.” Rolling your eyes, you looked back down at Eddie hoping to meet his gaze and laugh together over how ridiculous Rick was being. However, you looked down only to find Eddie’s chocolate browns trained on Rick with wide-eyed warning. A silent message was clearly being exchanged, but it wasn’t for you.

Rick was smiling smugly down at Eddie, unbeknownst to you, and Eddie was getting the message loud and clear:

It’s time to raise the stakes, kid.

“Perfect!” Rick chirped, smug eyes still trained on Eddie’s. “So you wouldn’t mind letting Eddie use your hip as his, uh… canvas, then?”

If Eddie’s looks could kill, Rick would be a dead man.

“Yeah.” you choked out, refusing to give yourself time to chicken out of what you’d gotten yourself into. “Yeah, why not?”

***

Rainy days in autumn just felt right.

Sure, you were in Latin class. Sure, you were supposed to be working on a packet the substitute teacher had just passed out. However, it was raining outside. The sub was easygoing enough that she hadn’t made a move to stop Eddie from doodling on your shoe that was perched comfortably on the crook of his hip.

You sat behind him in every class you had together- there were four of them this year- and Eddie had gotten into the habit of reaching back to tap you on the leg whenever he knew he was losing focus. Every time he tapped, you would carefully stretch your leg forward until his hand caught on your ankle, lifting it up until it rested on his lap. His sharpie would go to work on whatever blank spots he could still find on your white converse, and the mindless activity of his drawing would keep his mind awake enough to listen as teachers droned on and on.

The change in Eddie wasn’t lost on his teachers- they had all noticed the impact that your company seemed to have on him, and it was the only reason why they hadn’t had any issues with your constant companionship. When you were around, Eddie actually paid attention in his classes and turned in work- that was good enough for them.

The silence of the classroom and the soundtrack of rainfall beating against the roof and windows had created the perfect work zone for you, and your focus on your classwork was only interrupted when you noticed a folded piece of torn notebook paper on the edge of your desk.

Smirking as you felt Eddie continue doodling on your shoe, you unfolded the paper and read the slanted scrawl that you’d come to recognize instantly as Eddie’s handwriting.

Were you serious about the tattoo thing? It’s OK if you’re not.

Your cheeks heated, contemplating whether you were still serious about it or not. The only fears you had about it were completely logical- Eddie had literally no clue what he was doing. Yours would only be his second tattoo after his own. Worst case scenario, the tattoo would get infected and you go to the hospital. Eddie gets arrested for tattooing without a medical license. Best case scenario… you get to sit there while he grips your naked thigh for as long as it takes to leave a permanent reminder of him on your hip.

You blinked a couple of times, letting that mental image wash over you, before confidently penning your answer beneath his message.

I’m serious.

Folding the scrap of paper and handing it back to him, you felt his Sharpie leave your shoe as he took the note and read it. You watched him register the two words, glance back at you through the loose strands of hair that hung over his shoulder, then smile softly into a shake of his head. A second later, he was handing the note back to you.

If you say so, Ace. What am I tattooing, and where?

You had to think about it for a moment before passing back your answer

Hip is fine. What are you gonna do? We could match.

Eddie’s reply came faster than you’d ever seen him write any of his notes in class, that’s for damn sure.

You want matching tattoos?? Are you sure?

Your heart began to race. Was that bad? Was he judging you for wanting to match him? Maybe you were being too clingy, trying too hard… you glanced down at his jacket, which was wrapped around you almost every day at this point- it was practically a second skin. His handwriting was all over your shoes. You stared at your fingers, scarlet polish chipping from the tips of your nails, and you remembered that you’d chosen red solely because he’d mentioned it was his favorite color.

Were you coming across as desperate? Were you weirding him out? Maybe you needed to dial it back-

A new piece of paper slid across your desk, Eddie’s eyes glancing your way with nothing but warmth in his gaze before he returned his attention to your shoe on his lap.

I’m fine with it if you are.

Putting bats on my forearm.

You released a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, giving ways for butterflies to take flight inside your chest. You grinned, jotting down your reply beneath his writing.

I’m more than fine with it.

Could you do just one little bat on my hip?

Eddie took a little longer this time with his response, and you understood why once you saw the adorably small silhouette of a bat penned in black on the paper he’d passed back to you.

You leaned forward, letting your chin nearly brush the fabric of his denim jacket as you whispered low enough that the substitute teacher wouldn’t hear.

“It’s perfect.”

A snicker from the other side of the classroom caught your ear. Eddie and you both turned to see a cluster of letter-jacketed assholes staring at the two of you, whispering and laughing with each other.

You knew deep down that you didn’t care what they thought. You knew that you should just keep your head down. Ignore them.

But then you caught the tail end of one of their sentences.

“...fucking freaks.”

Two things happened simultaneously: your eyebrows jumped, and Eddie’s stomach dropped.

The ringing of the bell was all you needed to angrily shove your belongings into your backpack and march over to the other side of the classroom, stopping the jocks in their tracks. Eddie was right behind you, tugging you back by the crook of your elbow as you steadily ignored his pleas to sit down and ignore them, they aren’t worth it.

“You want to repeat what you were saying over there, Alan?” You stared up at the freckled boy, his harsh features sneering down at you from where he stood nearly half a foot taller than you. His height did nothing to deter you, however. Neither did Eddie’s death grip on your arm.

Alan snorted, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the two of you before him. His eyes flicked over you, appraising for about two seconds before directing his attention to Eddie behind you. “You letting your girl pick your fights for you now, Munson?”

Eddie didn’t have a chance to respond; you didn’t give him one. “Don’t look at him.” you stepped forward, bringing you mere inches from the freckled football star. “I asked you a question.”

Alan and his cronies laughed, apparently amused by the show of dominance you were trying to make. You opened your mouth to berate him further, but the sharp tug on your arm from Eddie was strong enough this time to jerk you away from them and toward the door of the classroom.

“Wh- Eddie, quit it!” you tried to shake off his grip but it wasn’t going to budge; Eddie marched you out the door and down the hallway like a man on a mission.

“Yeah, Eddie, quit it!” You both could hear Alan’s patronizing whine from the classroom, his voice thrown into a reedy falsetto that made your blood boil. His voice trailed off, melting into the nasal snickers of his friends.

Eddie didn’t let go of your arm until the two of you reached his locker, at which point he finally looked you in the eye- and his stare embodied an intensity that you hadn’t seen from him ever before. You’d seen him intense, of course… just not like this.

This looked like fear.

“What the fuck was that for?” Eddie bit out, his teeth clenched and eyes wide.

You crossed your arms, suddenly defensive. Had you messed up, somehow? “I… I mean, they were calling us names, I wasn’t going to just sit there.”

“Alan’s an illiterate asshole, you don’t need to explain yourself to him.”

“I know I don’t need to, but…” You chuckled humorlessly, that familiar vengeful feeling from moments ago beginning to bubble back up. “You know what, no. I do need to. I’m not the kind of person who can just sit there while jerks like him run around slandering good people, it’s wrong!”

Eddie huffed, his hands on his hips as he glanced around and shook his head. “Slandering, huh? That’s a big word, Ace. What’s that, the college word of the day?” You raised an eyebrow, watching him closely and curiously.

He was fidgeting nonstop, repeatedly picking up his feet and replacing them on the floor only an inch or so away from where they’d been before. His eyes darted in every direction, as if scanning for potential threats so that he could run from them before they decided to pounce.

“Eddie, why are you so afraid of those guys?”

Big brown eyes widened to saucers, refocusing on you. “This isn’t fear, Ace, it’s just common sense.” Eddie checked over his shoulder to ensure the jocks were gone, then took a step closer. He leaned his shoulder against the locker, lifting his opposite arm to gently place his hand on your upper arm. You shivered, feeling his thumb trace small circles through his own black leather. Maybe that’s why he’s so scared all of a sudden, you pondered, leaning closer to Eddie. He’s given me his armor.

You lowered your voice, sympathetic to Eddie’s plight. “You know I wouldn’t let them hurt you, Eds.” Looking up into his eyes, you expected to see them soften, gratitude coating his gaze. Instead, they widened and crinkled slightly at the edges. Eddie huffed out a gaudy laugh, incredulous at your admission.

“Hurt me?” he shook his head, stunned, and began to rifle through his locker for the books he needed for next class. “Ace, I just don’t want them to hurt you!”

You balked. “Me?” an eyebrow raised, you crossed your arms over your chest, defensive once again. “You really think they’d hit a girl? They’re jerks but I don’t think they’d go that far-”

“Nah, they’ll only sick their girlfriends on you.” Eddie punctuated his sentence with a slam of his locker door. “Purebred harpies with matching scrunchies who’ll make your life a living hell and then pretend that you’re the crazy one.”

It was a struggle to keep up with him at the rate he was walking, strides each a yard wide as he tugged you along by your hand.

Your hand. Eddie Munson was holding your hand.

“You, uh… you speaking from experience?” You stuttered over your words, cheeks heating at the sudden skin-to-skin contact. He had just admitted that he didn’t want to see you get hurt- his blatant protectiveness of you coupled with the way he was decisively dragging you by the hand to your locker right now was nearly too much for you to handle.

“Trust me,” Eddie sighed, swinging you around as he reached your locker and (to your dismay) letting go of your hand. “You get asked out on a dare enough times, you figure out how their coven operates.”

Eddie wasn’t meeting your eyes. You had to actually place your hand on his shoulder to capture his gaze. “Eddie,” you said, making a conscious effort to keep your voice steady and be something stable for him to feel at least a little grounded on. “Deep breath.”

Surprisingly, he did as you said. Eddie closed his eyes, inhaling deep and allowing his lungs to fill long enough that his chest expanded before his exhale blew softly on your cheeks. It smelled like the apple you’d brought for him at lunch.

When you were once again treated to that warm hazelnut gaze, your hand acted without thinking and flew up to gently rest against his jawline. You were crossing some invisible line- you knew that- but the light in the hallway was causing shadows to take up residence in the dusting of whiskers that decorated the sharp incline that led to his chin. Your fingertips brushed his skin reverently, and he seemed frozen. Eddie didn’t dare move; you were like a butterfly that had deigned to land on him of all people, and damn it all if he was going to fuck it up and scare you off.

“I’ve got you, you’ve got me… right?” Your voice was barely loud enough to be heard through the noise of bustling students. “We look out for each other, Eddie, we’re stronger together.”

Eddie remained still under your caress, wishing he could focus on your touch. Wishing he could rip his eyes away from where they were trained behind you- held in terrified contact with a sadistic-looking Alan who stood with his cherry-lipsticked girlfriend across the hallway. Alan’s lips were curled into a sneer, watching as the thing that Eddie wanted most became his worst nightmare.

You were openly touching him, while wearing his clothes, standing in shoes covered with his drawings- and Eddie watched in horror as the harpy pushed up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Alan’s ear before both of them refocused not on Eddie, but on you.

They laughed like fucking heyenas, eyeing their next meal.

It took every ounce of self control Eddie had, but he gently took your hand in his and lowered it from his cheek. He ignored the way your eyes gazed up at him the same way a scorned puppy begged for some kind of affection, any confirmation that they are, indeed, loved.

“It’s the together part I’m worried about, Ace.” Eddie whispered, keeping his voice low.

You were quiet, which Eddie hated because it was his fault.

“Oh, and um-” Eddie raised his shoulders and shivered, rubbing his hands along his upper arms to warm himself with the friction. “-it’s a little chilly today… you mind if I wear the jacket?” His hand drifted down to the flannel that hung loosely tied around your waist, taking a corner of the material and feeling it between the pads of his thumb and forefinger.

“This’ll keep you warm, yeah?”

You stared blankly for a moment, stunned. You had nearly forgotten that the jacket was his to take. You’d assumed he liked that you always wore his jacket, but… perhaps you’d made that up. You were eager for him to want things like that, after all… ‘more than friends’ kinds of things. However, asking for a borrowed item to be returned was completely normal for friends. You chided yourself for reading too much into it and smiled warmly up at him.

“Yeah! Of course!” you sprung into action, setting your backpack down on the floor as you began to shrug off the jacket. “You’re right it’s frigid in here today.”

You handed the jacket to Eddie, who donned it with a thin-lipped smile. Parting ways for your next class, you departed in opposite directions down the hallway.

Upon arriving in your calculus class, you glanced out the window eager to zone out as you watched the rain, only to be greeted by a gray sky drained of its water. The rain’s reprieve left nothing in its wake but a tired sun, soft mist that obscured all surety, and packed Indiana dirt softened to mud too loose for one to find their footing.

The sort of mud that, should you try to walk through it, you’d be destined to slip and fall.

***

When Eddie thought of Halloween, he thought of blood and sugar.

It was a strange contradiction, the way that Halloween’s association with horror and gore had balanced itself out with candy corn and fun-sized Snickers bars, and yet the juxtaposition of the two brought a smile to his face. The combination of sweet and terrifying embodied the holiday perfectly. On Halloween, there was no need for any kind of steely exterior that might protect him from judgment. No need to hide the way he really feels behind the scary metalhead armor he’d so carefully curated as a defense mechanism.

On Halloween, he wasn’t just allowed to be a freak. He was celebrated for it.

On Halloween, he could just be.

It was the reason why Halloween just so happened to be the day he’d had enough courage to look through your bedroom window exactly four years ago. It’s the day when Hell meets Heaven to make something sweet, and anything can happen.

Anything- including matching tattoos on the floor of his trailer.

Everything was ready- Eddie had laid out sheets of newspaper to cover what he’d deemed the tattoo zone, and broken down a cardboard box to act as a stable surface on the soft carpet of his bedroom floor. Eddie had scrutinized every instruction he’d been able to wrench from Rick for how to work the tattoo machine. Grips, needles, fucking rubber bands that were apparently very necessary… he’d made sure he had it all. He’d even practiced on an orange that he’d swiped from the kitchen counter.

A thick black cable now snaked across his carpeted floor, connecting the machine to a pedal, the pedal to a power supply, and the power supply to the yellowed plastic outlet on his wall. Beside the machine sat a stack of paper towels and all sorts of other shit Rick had advised him to make sure he used. He was lucky that Rick had bought a bottle of black ink- Eddie wouldn’t have known where to seek out medical-grade ink in a state where it was illegal to ink your skin without a license.

Your knock at his door made Eddie jump; he wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. It would be easy to write his nerves off as adrenaline before his first tattoo, but who was he kidding- it was you. You’d gone from someone who made him nervous to someone who made him nervous for different reasons, and all of this was very inconvenient for Eddie.

“Trick or Treat,” You’d chirped when he opened the door, and it was at that moment Eddie realized that this night may very well be the death of him.

You wore your favorite baggy sweater over a tight black tank top, which you’d tucked into some high waisted acid washed jeans. Unsurprisingly, the chucks on which he’d scribbled his claim were fastened securely on your feet. In your hands was a variety pack of halloween candies and a shopping bag from the local drugstore. Everything about you radiated warmth, and Eddie had to fight the urge to change tonight’s itinerary to movies and a blanket fort and spend the whole evening on the couch with you, surrounded by candy wrappers and the light of his television set.

“I brought antibacterial soap,” you said, bringing Eddie back to reality. You rifled through your shopping bag to show him your spoils as you stepped through the threshold and into his trailer. “-large bandages, and a little travel first aid kit just in case. Oh, and I did a little bit of reading at the library and I couldn’t find much on tattoos, but the one commonality between every book and article I could find said to make sure you wash the wound often and disinfect everything-”

“Ace,” Eddie interrupted, taking the bag from you and closing the front door. The corner of his mouth quirked up, keeping an amused chuckle at bay. “You went to the library to read about how to safely care for an illegal tattoo?” Your expression soured, shifting to a half-scowl, half-pout.

“Well one of us has got to do it,” you huffed, grabbing the bag and marching towards Eddie’s room. “And I know you wouldn’t set foot in the library unless you were forced.” You continued to yell at him from his room, “You’ll thank me when your kitchen-scratched tattoo doesn’t get infected, and you get to grow old with all of your limbs intact!”

Eddie stayed glued to his spot as his smirk grew into a goofy grin. You were fucking adorable.

You hadn’t argued when Eddie insisted that he start with his own tattoo- before he got started on permanently marking your skin, he wanted to be sure that he at least had gotten the hang of it first. He immediately started getting to work with his trusty fine-tipped Sharpie, sketching out a scattering of bats on his forearm and glancing every once in a while at his notebook for reference. You’d flipped through that notebook on several occasions when the two of you had sat idle during classes or study sessions. The drawings were always sprawling, sharp and gruesome in a way that wasn’t so much scary as it was fascinating to you.

You laid stomach-down on his mattress, positioned behind where he sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the bed frame and close enough that you could probably reach down and play with his hair if you were bold enough. You didn’t- no matter how tempting it was, you didn’t want to risk anything that might mess up his focus. You settled for watching Eddie’s reflection in the mirror that sat leaned up against the wall in front of him.

When the Sharpie stencil had dried and Eddie picked up the tattoo machine, you couldn’t deny the nervous uptake in your heart rate. You watched him gingerly begin the process of permanently inking his drawing into his skin, and before the needle touched skin, Eddie looked over his shoulder at you and winked, whispering a surprisingly shaky “Point of no return.” Before you could ask if he was having second thoughts, he was already outlining the first bat, his socked foot pressing decisively on the pedal that whirred his machine to life.

Minutes ticked by before you uttered a soft “Does it hurt?” to break the awkward silence. Normally, Eddie had some sort of music playing, Metallica or WASP or something along those lines spinning on his cheap old turntable- but tonight there was nothing but the electric buzz that filled the small bedroom, and it was starting to make you antsy.

Eddie huffed, and it was as much of a laugh as he could afford while holding still. “Well, Ace, it’s a needle sticking in and out of my arm repeatedly, so if I’m being honest it ain’t exactly sunshine and rainbows.” You watched him wince as he moved on from outlining the first bat and started on the second.

“Does it at least make you feel a little badass?” You watched his reflection in the mirror glance up through the curtain of his hair and raise an eyebrow at you.

“That depends,” He said, “do I look badass?”

“A little.” You teased. “You’ll look more badass when the tattoo is finished.”

That earned you a snort from him. “What, fifty percent of a tattoo doesn’t cut it?” His reflection flashed you a genuine smile, that lopsided grin affecting you the way it always does, spiking your body temp and rushing the thump of your heart.

“Nope. Though, if your intention is to tell the world that you have commitment issues-”

“I do not have commitment issues-”

“Then what kind of issues do you have?”

Eddie parted the needle from his skin, taking a moment to glance wryly over his shoulder in your direction.

“You.” It was punctuated by a tongue that peeked out from between his lips. You followed suit, shoulders shaking as you chuckled.

Silence threatened to fall for a moment then, but Eddie put a stop to that. “Keep talking.”

“Huh?”

His voice was quiet, muttered like he was biting the inside of his cheek as he spoke. “Hurts less when we’re talking.”

You smiled, watching as he avoided your eye contact in the mirror, focusing on his arm as a subtle blush began to creep onto his cheeks. Tempting as it was to tease, you opted for a more neutral topic.

“Which is better, sour candy or chocolate?”

You could barely see his eyebrows furrow behind his curtain of curls as he considered your question. “Chocolate.”

“You’re crazy.”

He barked out a laugh. “After all the ridiculous shit I’ve said, that’s what crosses the line for you?”

You shook your head, amping up your reaction for his benefit; he was laughing, and it was music to your ears. You were greedy for more of it.

“Sour candy is a whole experience, chocolate is just sweet! That’s all it has going for it!”

Eddie gawked but kept his eyes trained on his skin. “What do you have against sweets?”

You rolled your eyes, flopping from your stomach to your back and staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling. “I haven’t got anything against sweets… I just like a little tart to go with it. Oh hang on, that reminds me-”

You stuck your hand into the plastic bag you’d brought with you, producing a variety pack of cheap Halloween candies. “Do you normally get trick-or-treaters? I thought we could pour these into a bowl and set it out on the porch- you know, so we don’t have to keep answering the door.”

Eddie Shook his head. “Nah, not a lot of kids who live here. Those who do always high-tail it to the neighborhoods where the good shit is, like-”

“Loch Nora?” you finished, smirking.

Nodding his approval, Eddie echoed, “Loch Nora.”

“Well in that case,” you yanked open the bag of candy so hard that a few individually wrapped pieces were flung onto the bedspread as well as the floor below. “I guess we’ll have to eat all of this ourselves.”

Eddie paused his tattooing to glance at a fun-sized packet of sour gummy worms that had landed on the carpet beside him. “Gummy worms?” he asked.

You flicked the back of his head while the needle was off his skin. “Uh, yeah, they’re delicious.”

“Did you at least get candy corn?”

You gagged. “Candy corn?!”

The two of you passed the next hour like that, debating about various arbitrary topics and inevitably disagreeing on almost all of them. There were only three things that you both agreed on without any debate whatsoever: Santa Claus was the superior holiday mascot, Joan Jett could easily beat Cyndi Lauper in a fight, and The Empire Strikes Back was way better than A New Hope.

When Eddie was finally finished with his tattoo, you were off the bed in an instant and already reaching for the antibacterial soap.

“You should wash it under some warm water first before anything gross has a chance to get in there-”

“Hey hey hey, whoa hold on!” Eddie was laughing, eyes wide as he smiled at you. Your hand was already encircled around his wrist, tugging his arm (and the person attached to it) toward the bathroom. “Ace, you haven’t even looked at it yet, c’mon you’re bruising the artist’s ego here.”

You sighed but couldn’t hide the rueful grin that danced on your pursed lips. Softening your vice like grip on his wrist, you shifted your hands to cradle his forearm and survey the last hour’s work.

“It looks good, Eddie… really good, actually.” You absently swiped a thumb over the soft skin of his wrist. “If you’d told me it was professionally done, I’d totally believe you.”

“Yeah?” He looked up from where your thumb stroked the base of his forearm, eyes shining.

“Yeah,” you smirked. “Of course, I’d tell you to try and get your money back, but-”

“Oh shove it up your ass, Sweet Tart.” The playful shoulder-check had you letting go of his arm, but both of your faces were painted with ear-to-ear smiles.

Eddie washed his new tattoo in the bathroom sink, admiring the way the bats stretched and shifted with every flex of his forearm. Your mouth hurt, as did the muscles in your cheeks; you couldn’t stop smiling. He was so happy with his work, and you had to admit that he had actually done a really good job with that tattoo machine.

“We’ve got to get you out of Indiana, Munson,” you murmured to the mirror where he continued to scrutinize his work from every angle. “I think you may have just found your calling.”

His eyes were wide and shining with pride as they glanced your way. “You think?”

You nodded, that saccharine smile stubbornly staying put on your lips. To be fair, you didn’t fight it.

“You’re coming with me, then.” Eddie replied, his own smile glowing in the dying light above the bathroom mirror.

There it was- that familiar fire beneath the skin of your cheeks.

“Oh I am, huh?”

“Hell yeah.” Eddie braced his arm on the doorway, leaning over you until your faces were mere inches apart. “We’re stronger together, remember?”

Breathe. Breathe… Why can’t you breathe?

You’d barely managed a nod before Eddie was ducking around you through the doorway, grabbing your hand, and leading you back to his room.

“Your turn, Ace.”

Oh yeah, you were also getting a tattoo today. You’d almost forgotten. Were you nervous? You weren’t sure. Actually, yes, you were very nervous- not so much about the tattoo as you were for where the tattoo would be.

In minutes, you were both sitting on Eddie’s bedroom floor- Eddie readying everything he needed for your new ink, and you sitting eerily still as your soul started to feel like it might leave your body.

“Ace,”

Eyes refocusing, you blinked a few times. “Yeah?”

Eddie’s expression was calm, sympathetic to the inward freak-out he had a feeling you were on the verge of. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little more strained than you had intended. “Hah…you saying I have commitment issues?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but Eddie’s eyebrows stayed knitted together above his big brown eyes. “No,” he murmured. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking to a stray animal and trying not to spook it. “I guess I’m just… trying to give you an out, so you don’t feel pressured or anything.”

You shook your head, “I don’t want an out.”

Eddie blinked, “No?”

“No.”

There was a second of silence between the two of you before you both took in a collective breath, exhaling simultaneously and giggling when you both realized that you were breathing in sync. Perfect harmony; sour and sweet, nervous but willing.

“You, uh…” Eddie stammered, his eyes flicking down to your lap and back up to your face. “...you still want it on your hip?”

Your heart rate doubled.

“Um, yeah.” you awkwardly shifted your weight onto your knees, grabbing hold of your waistband and unbuttoning your shorts. You shimmied them over your hips, revealing the rest of your leotard- leotard, Eddie realized. Not a tank top. You were wearing a black leotard. It was almost like the kind that he’d seen ballerinas wear, except it cut so high on your hips that he was sure it wouldn’t be allowed in any of the dance studios he could think of, and….yep. YEP, it was practically a thong. Your ass was out. You were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with your ass out.

Chill out, Munson! He screamed inwardly at himself, Chill the fuck out!

Of course, you couldn’t tell that there was a war going on between Eddie’s ability to function and the short-circuiting that threatened to render him unable to do anything but stare at you. All you could see was the way his jaw had gone slack and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

You smiled shyly, a twinge of something between satisfaction and guilt nudging at your heartstrings. “I figured this thing would be less awkward than if I was sitting here in my underwear,” you laughed nervously as you gestured to your leotard.

Eddie gulped. He couldn’t see much of a difference. “Yeah, totally.”

A beat passed. You grabbed a bag of gummy worms from the floor, tearing it open with a crinkle of the plastic that would not have been so loud if the two of you weren’t dead silent. You bit into the candy where the color changed from pink to blue, then finally muttered through your chewing, “Ready when you are.”

Eddie blinked rapidly, taking his Sharpie in his hands. “Uh, yeah… yeah, okay.”

With your free hand, you pointed to the part of your hip where your flesh naturally creased as your thigh met your pelvis.

“Is here good?”

Eddie gulped.

“Yeah, that’s good.” But Eddie was very much not good. He was the opposite of good, he felt like he was malfunctioning. When he placed his free hand on your upper thigh, he almost apologized. Why the hell did he feel like he had to apologize? He had no clue. His palms were sweating- did you feel how sweaty his palms were? Oh god. He forgot what a bat looked like- you were trusting his artistic skills enough for him to permanently ink his drawing into your skin and he couldn’t even remember what a goddamn bat looked li- oh, wait, he had them on his own forearm now. Eddie glanced at his arm, reminding himself what a goddamn bat looked like.

He’s never felt like more of a nervous idiot than right now.

Meanwhile, you felt like you were about to explode.

His hand was warm. So warm as he grasped your thigh. Whenever he’d touched you before, there was always a barrier, some form of separation between his skin and yours- jeans, a sweater, a flannel.

A leather jacket.

That’s right- he had taken his jacket back. Maybe you were reading too deep into things, but you had this unshakable feeling that taking back that jacket had been a message.

We’re just friends. Nothing more.

But if that was true, then why was he looking at your thighs the way he was? Why had he looked at you the way he did when he said you should go with him when he leaves Hawkins?

He wasn’t your boyfriend… you knew that.

So why couldn’t you shake this undeniably girlfriendish ache in your chest?

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice jolted you out of your downward spiral into your very inconvenient feelings. “Check that out in the mirror, make sure you like it.”

You straightened up, walking on your knees until you faced the mirror leaning against the wall and inspected the tiny, perfect little bat that he’d drawn on the fullest part of your hip.

It matched the bats that now decorated his arm, now surrounded by an angry red halo that bloomed across his skin. Once that bat was inked, it would be something connecting you and Eddie forever- a shared experience, a secret that the two of you would always be in on.

Suddenly, you realized that in this moment there wasn’t a single thing you wanted more than a matching tattoo with Eddie Munson.

Well, there was one thing. But you had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight. The tattoo, however…

“I love it.” You looked over your shoulder at Eddie, but his eyes were a little too busy staring at your practically naked behind to meet your gaze.

“Ahem.”

Breaking free of his trance, Eddie shook his head a tad, which drew a small chuckle from your smirking lips. Eddie couldn’t help but smile too, albeit more shyly than you.

“Distracted?” You teased, unable to hold back your glee at this kind of attention- any kind of attention- from Eddie.

He sighed, blinking rapidly while he finally met your eyes. There was something new in the way he was looking at you- if you didn’t know better you might call it frustration, but it was an amused sort of frustration. Almost like his eyes were saying “what am I going to do with you?” but through sunglasses tinted with desire.

You wanted to bottle that, stow it away for emergencies. Wanted to preserve the way that gaze made you feel so that you could experience it over and over again.

“No.” Eddie murmured through a rueful grin. “Lie down, it’ll be easier to ink the skin while it’s flat.” You did as he instructed, feeling the crinkle of newspaper underneath the skin of your rear. Once again, you found yourself staring up at the water stain on Eddie’s ceiling until his face came into view, looking down at you as he readied the tattoo machine.

“Are you?” You heard him ask.

You raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The pads of Eddie’s fingers poked and prodded at the skin around where your tattoo would soon have an indefinite spot on your hip, and you wondered if he could tell that your temperature shot up ten degrees each time you felt his hands on you.

“Are you distracted?” he clarified. “Because it hurts less when you’ve got something else to focus on.”

“Oh.” Suddenly, your mind went blank. Of course, the moment you wanted something to distract you, all ideas turned tail and ran. “Um…”

Snap!

Your jaw dropped as the elastic of your leotard snapped back to your skin from where Eddie had pulled it away with his pointer finger. “Where’d you even get this thing?”

Now it was your turn to short-circuit.

“Uh-” You stammered, interrupted by the machine beginning to buzz.

Eddie didn’t wait for you to finish your thought before reminding you what he’d asked. “C’mon, Sweet Tart, where’d you get the leotard?”

You knew he was trying to distract you so you didn’t feel the pain, but you couldn’t help the tensing of your muscles as the needle pierced your skin. You winced, staring at the water stain with a newfound intensity. “Dance store.” you gritted through lips that formed a tight line.

“Dance store, huh?” You could hear the smile through Eddie’s words. “And why were you in a dance store?”

You huffed out a short, breathy laugh, careful to keep your hip still as Eddie’s needle continued to do its work. “I was making a Flashdance costume. Heard about this Halloween party a few weeks ago, but then we made the tattoo plans… and I had already bought the leotard, so…”

It was disconcerting to speak with Eddie without looking at him; he was a very expressive person, always talking with his hands, always making sure that he looked you in the eyes when you spoke to him. But now he was focused on his work on your hip, leaving your eyes to shift between staring at his ceiling and fluttering closed.

“You were going to wear this thing to a party?” he asked, incredulous.

Your eyebrows wrinkled over your closed eyes. “I would’ve worn tights under it…”

He snorted. “That wouldn’t have made a difference.”

You winced, groaning as the needle hit a nerve that particularly stung. “What- ah, shit- what are you trying to say?”

The buzzing stopped for a moment. “Fuck, you okay?” Eddie’s face leaned into your field of vision, his frizzy brown hair backlit into a halo by the light from the lamp behind him. “You want to take a break?”

You shook your head, taking a mental snapshot of how ethereal he looked like this. “No, you can keep going, I’m fine.”

Cautiously, Eddie got back to work. A few wordless seconds ticked by before you spoke.

“What did you mean, ‘that wouldn’t have made a difference’?”

Eddie’s reply was matter-of-fact, but you could have sworn that you heard a hint of protectiveness in his voice when he said, “Tights or no tights, the whole party would have been staring at your ass, Sweet Tart.”

The “T” sound in “Tart” was soft this time. So soft, it was barely there at all, and it almost sounded like he’d just called you sweetheart. If only. You’d give anything to be Eddie’s sweetheart.

Whether he’d meant to blend that consonant or not, it made you brave. “Is that a bad thing?”

A pause. Then, “Is this a trap?”

“Answer the question, would a bunch of people staring at my ass be a bad thing?”

Eddie sighed. “This is definitely a trap,” he muttered, before replying “No, Ace, objectively it would not be a bad thing. But sometimes people view girls differently when they walk around with their asses out.”

“Do you look at me differently when my ass is out?” You were being cheeky, you knew it.

“No, I don’t look at you differently.” came his instant response, muttered through nearly-closed lips. “I just look at you.”

Nothing could stand against your smile, not even you. “Yeah, that much I could see in the mirror.”

“You don’t sound too upset about that.”

This was different from the flirting you were used to with Eddie. Your regular flavor of flirtation had always been surface-level banter; nothing past a jab here and there, a joke at his expense or a nickname thrown your way.

Now? You were talking about the way he looked at your body, and the fact that he could tell that you liked when he looked. The two of you were in uncharted territory, and you buzzed under his touch in time with the inky needle at the beautiful unknown of it all.

“Okay, the outline is done but I’m about to start filling it in.” Eddie warned. “This part hurts a little more. You wanna take a break?”

You nodded. While Eddie jumped up to get you both a glass of water, you sat up on your elbows and peered over at your hip to get a look at your new ink. When you saw it, you gasped so fervently that you startled yourself.

It was perfect. The perfect little bat.

It wasn’t completely symmetrical. The outline was a tad thicker in certain places than others. But those imperfections made it his. And the fact that it was on your skin made it yours.

You couldn’t wait to wake up and stare at it like this every single day.

Eddie returned a moment later with two mismatched cups of tap water. Once you’d both rehydrated, he got to work replacing the needle at the end of the machine with a new one, as well as changing out various attachments and fiddling with a knobby-looking piece until he seemed satisfied with what he’d changed.

You were impressed with how intensely focused Eddie was on this sort of work; it didn’t seem to be taking him long to get the hang of this. It also didn’t take him long to come up with another topic of conversation that teetered on the line between friendly and flirty.

“Ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill?”

You had not, but the title of the game brought an unexpected chuckle out of you. “Edward Munson, I am a lady! At least take me out to dinner first-”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” Eddie chuckled, and you could hear his deadpan in the tone of his voice. “I say three people’s names and you have to tell me which you’d fuck, which you’d marry, and which you’d kill. Comprende?”

“Uhh-” whatever you’d been about to say was cut short by a harsher buzz than before, accompanied by the aggressive sting of needles on your skin. “Mmh, shit, okay yeah sure let’s play.”

Eddie smiled to himself. He wasn’t sure why he loved the little noises and whispered curses that spilled from your mouth while he tattooed you, but he honestly thought they might be the cutest sounds he’d ever heard. You were taking the pain like a champ- he was actually pretty proud of you in this moment as you remained still through the sting.

“Lars Ulrich, James Hetfield, and Kirk Hammett”

You rolled your eyes. Eddie had ensured over your many rides in his van this summer that every Metallica song he’d played had been an educational experience. Eddie had picked up a cassette of their debut album in July, and ever since he’d become obsessed. Already, he was trying to persuade the other members of his band to figure out how to play The Four Horsemen by ear.

Needless to say, you knew enough about the band to at least answer the question.

“Well I’m killing Lars for sure.”

“Poor Lars never stood a chance.”

You grinned, willing the distraction into something great enough to numb the pain. “And I think I’m gonna have to fuck Hetfield.”

“‘Have to fuck Hetfield,’ such a sacrifice.”

You carefully stretched your arms up to rest above your shoulders, cradling your head on your hands like a pillow. “Hey, if someone’s got to do it, I’ll take one for the team.”

You heard him snort, then after a moment’s quiet he added, “So you’re marrying Kirk Hammett, then?”

“I guess so.”

“What makes Kirk marriage material? Over the other two, I mean.”

You thought about Kirk Hammett’s wild, dark curls. His build. His brown button eyes. The way he looked holding a guitar.

“I don’t know, there’s just something about him.”

Eddie thought about the way he’d been trying to make himself look more like a rockstar ever since he’d first seen the tiny, grainy picture of the Metallica members in the corner of a page of Rolling Stone; he’d been bumming copies off Jeff’s subscription since the seventh grade. How he’d started growing out his hair after seeing Kirk’s long, black mane. He smiled.

He must be doing something right.

“Alright, Mrs. Hammett,” He quipped, “My turn, hit me with bachelorettes one through three, please.”

You thought over your options, trying to think of women you’d heard him mention before. Wondering if he thought any of them had something in common with you, and praying to God he didn’t kill them.

“Olivia Newton-John,”

Already, Eddie was descending into a fit of giggles.

“Why are you laughing? She’s pretty!”

Eddie launched into a falsetto rendition of the chorus from Grease’s Hopelessly Devoted to You, and you were instantly fighting the giggles too.

“Shut up! I’m not done yet. Olivia Newton-John… have you seen Fast Times?”

His response came in a tone of voice that was the vocal equivalent of a side-eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t know if you know who Phoebe Cates is.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighed dreamily, “I know who Phoebe Cates is.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled nonetheless. “Okay then- Olivia Newton-John, Phoebe Cates, and Carrie Fisher.”

Eddie barked out a joyous “Ah!” before answering, “Well this is easy, Ace, say goodbye to Newton-John!”

You mock-gasped. “You’re killing Sandy?”

“I’m killing Sandy.”

“That is brutal. She was so innocent, too.”

Eddie squinted at the half-filled tattoo, smirking into his explanation. “Okay, I see the appeal, Ace, I truly do. That outfit at the end is killer.” He paused. Should he say it? Would he be too obvious if he did?

Ah, fuck it.

“I’m a sucker for a woman in red shoes, let me tell ya. However-” Eddie quickly glazed over that last sentence, as well as any opening you might have gotten to think about how that might relate to you. “-I’ve gotta fuck Phoebe Cates. Because… y’know-”

“Boobies?” you beat him to the punch.

Eddie confirmed with a matter-of-fact “Boobies.” He glanced up at your face for a moment, curious to see if he could read what you thought of his answers, but you were staring pensively at his ceiling, expression unreadable. “And you have to have known I was marrying Leia the moment she was an option.”

“You have a thing for Princess Leia?”

“Are you joking?” Eddie asked, incredulously. “How could I not? The woman’s the definition of a spitfire, she kicks ass and takes names. Not to mention, she’s got a thing for scoundrels.”

You hummed. “Do you think you’re a scoundrel, Eddie?”

“Well I’m certainly not a scruffy-looking nerf herder, I’ll tell you that much.”

You winced playfully, “A nerf herder you are not… but you are a bit scruffy.”

“You’ve got me there, princess.”

Eddie went silent. The nickname had just slipped out- all this talk of scoundrels and princesses and strong women who weren’t afraid of a fight and before he knew it, he was seeing more similarities between you and Leia than he’d realized were there before.

Princess had just seemed right. It just slipped out.

The line between friendship and dangerous territory had been so clearly drawn in Eddie’s mind before tonight. Where had he gone wrong? That once clear line was getting blurry.

Eddie was absolutely convinced that he would probably find a way to single handedly ruin your friendship before he was finished filling in your tattoo- which you would inevitably hate, because it would remind you of the asshole who you used to be friends with before he made things weird between you.

“My turn,” your voice cut through Eddie’s downward spiral, drawing a relieved sigh from him that tickled the skin of your thigh. “Let’s make this round more interesting. Only names of people from Hawkins.”

“Hm, that is interesting.” he mused, the needle inching its way toward the last remaining centimeter of bare skin left within the outline. “Let me think… Chief Hopper-”

You barked out a laugh, “Oh great start, Eds.”

“Chief’s a good looking guy! I don’t know why you’re laughing!” but Eddie was smiling ear to ear, delighted that his awkward apprehension had already begun to dissipate. “Principal Higgins-”

“Are you only going to give me old men as options?”

Eddie was going to do exactly that, because he didn’t want to picture you marrying or- God forbid- fucking any men in Hawkins that you might actually enjoy doing either of those things with. He wasn’t jealous, per se… but none of the shitheads in Hawkins were good enough for you. Eddie wasn’t even good enough for you; not yet, at least. He could picture a future version of himself one day taking his chances with you, once you’d both skipped town and found your way in some thriving city somewhere.

You were both too good for this place- you were the first person to make him think that about himself.

“What was that security guard’s name at the mall? Average joe looking guy? Quentin? Quincey?”

“Oh, you mean Quinn?”

“Knew his name started with a Q.” Eddie softly bit his bottom lip as he finished the last bit of your bat’s wing. “Hopper, Higgins, and Quinn. Those are your options.”

You groaned. “These choices suck, can I just kill them all?”

“I kinda like it when you go all bloodthirsty, Ace.”

You rolled your eyes before letting them flutter closed. “Ugh, well I’m obviously killing Higgins… he’s never been nice to you and all he cares about are school sports. I guess… I mean if I have to, I’ll fuck Hopper.”

Eddie was beside himself with giggles, “I mean, that’s one way to get out of a speeding ticket.”

“You’re lucky I can’t smack you right now.” You ignored Eddie’s snickering and continued. “And I don’t think I’d mind being married to Quinn, he always smiles at me and asks how my day was. Plus he’s kind of cute, he’s got nice hair.”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “I don’t see it.”

You laughed, and the jingling tone of your voice suddenly sounded too loud as the buzzing of Eddie’s machine stopped.

“Alright, Ace,” Eddie announced, leaning back to survey his work. “Check out your new ink.”

You didn’t need to look at it again to know it would be perfect, but you looked anyway. You stood on your sleeping legs and gazed at the little black bat on your hip- it sat beautifully balanced on the skin framed by your high cut leotard, and you knew at once that you’d think of Eddie each time you saw it. This was exactly what you wanted- a daily reminder of exactly how he made you feel, of who he was to you.

At this moment, it dawned on you exactly what it was that Eddie made you feel. The way you always wanted to be around him, and the way he had become a balloon that inflated your chest every time he made you laugh, and how you knew- just knew- that you’d follow him anywhere if he asked.

You loved Eddie Munson. You were in love with him.

And you couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot at that little asymmetrical bat.

Taglist: @emma77645 , @rustboxstarr, @josephquinnsfreckles, @rozxartaki, @sheneedsrocknroll92

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #impossible to hate you #ithy #friends to enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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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.)

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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!"

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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

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beardedjoel · 3 months

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wip wednesday!

thank you for the tags bbs! @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @beskarandblasters @cavillscurls @dancingtotuyo

Step one: post snippets of the fics you're working on (can be a summary if there's no snippet)

Step two: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on, then prioritize the one with the most votes.

Step three: ask me about my wips! i have more than just these three but they are the main ones i'm focused on right now!

snippets under the cut!

dbf sugar daddy!joel x f!reader

Joel gives you an understanding look. “I do, I get it, sweetheart. If you want me to want somethin’ out of it, if that’d make you feel better about takin’ the money, then why don’t y’come spend some time with me. Let me take you out, or jus’ come by for a nice dinner, me ‘n you. Get to know each other a little, keep an old man company, hm?” You roll your eyes with a breathy chuckle pushing out of you. “Really trying to play the sympathy card calling yourself old, I see,” you say, quirking a brow. “But uh, I… could do that… if that’s all you want.” Joel’s gears are turning, and you see a flash of recognition across his face as it falls a little. He leans forward, propping his forearms on the desk, his brows knit tight and eyes flashing while they watch you. “D’you think I expect you to fuck me?”

smother part viii (dark!joel x f!reader)

He turns around, holding a new piece of leather, looking similar to what you already have around your neck, but it’s much longer and the reality sinks in, remembering the chain that you’d discovered in the front closet. You wince quietly, praying Joel couldn’t hear the depraved little noise, and feel your thighs tense and tighten a little, completely unable to understand why. Joel’s lips turn to a small smirk, satisfied when he sees you squirm a little while he approaches. “My little sugar likes the look of this, don’t she?” he rumbles out, leaning forward along the edge of the bed closest to you, just enough to brush his nose along yours, lips tempting you before pulling away. He slides the leather through his hands, a contemplative look on his face. “Say ‘yes daddy’,” Joel says, folding the leather and snapping it absentmindedly. He leans towards you, a finger hooking in the o-ring of your collar, barely tugging, but enough that the back of the collar pulls tighter against your neck, making your breath hitch at the sudden change.

pretty little wife chapter 3.5 (husband!joel x f!reader)

summary: a few months after your original rendezvous with your husband and his brother tommy, tommy is still single and more down about it than ever with his birthday coming up. joel decides to give him an early birthday present: you tied up in the closet, and another night promised to do anything he wants to you. well, almost anything.

tagging anyone who wants to do this today that hasn't cause i'm kinda late in the day!!! and feeling lazy hehe

#IGNORE IF U SAW THIS ALREADY ON MY UPDATES ACCT NO U DIDNT #reposting it #wip wednesday

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i-only-want-endless-happiness · 1 year

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Dear pjo fandom

I just read the sun and the stars and i was so happy to come here and see all the little cute fan arts and what i find is a bunch of adults complaining about a child books series istg this fandom is one of the most toxic ones out there.

Now i could tell you that if you want to consume a product whatever it is movies,books,tv shows ecc that's explicitly for kids/preteens you have to approch it with the right mentality which is letting your inner child enjoy the product if you're 20+ something, cause of course the adult you won't feel the same wonder, and sure kids products don't have to be bad or bland and there are other things out there aimed at kids that are better than tsats BUT it's not a bad book, mark oshiro did such a good job at portraying healing and trauma, they also did an amazing job at presenting to middle schoolers the idea of romantic relationships being not all roses and flowers and unicorns, human relationships are hard no matter the kind, it's something difficult to accept and to deal with especially when every single fairy tale you read as a kid teaches you that there is a happily ever after, that after adversities everything gets solved and goes fine, when you grow up you learn that nothing is further from the truth than that, i could also tell you that of course the concept is extremely simplified but again it's a book for kids/preteens, i could tell you to not go for something you know it's not targeted to you if you want approch it in a cynical way, i could give you as example that reading tsats and wanting maturity out of it is like going to watch a disney animation movie and then complaining they sing too much. Cause now you have to tell me when rick riordan has been mature or not cringe in the whole entirity of the pjo saga? He literally wrote a dam joke after killing off a 12 years old, added a judo flip to a romantic reunion of two characters that haven't seen each others for almost a year, wrote a romantic declaration from a 20 years old something to a 16 years old girl, wrote about gods falling for the stupidiest shit said by teenagers demigods, made percy at 12 years old won a fight against the fucking god of war and i could go on so if that has been ok with you till now what is even the point? The truth is y'all are not complaining cause the book feels immature/cringe/ooc ecc y'all are complaining cause you hate will and you hate him cause you ship nico with percy,jason,leo or who knows who and that's ok you don't have to like will or solangelo you can ship whatever you want (i'm an "anomaly" in this fandom i never shipped percabeth, i started prefering percy and rachel and i ended up loving the idea of annabeth and piper, still i can be objective enough to read a whole saga where percy and annabeth are the main couple and not shit on it just cause i don't ship them together) of course you can complain about this book but at least make an effort and think of valid reasons. The real problem is why did you decide to buy and read a book that focuses as one of the main plots on a relationship you hate so much, if you can't stand them as a couple why did you read it in the first place? This book is not perfect it lacks things and there are topics that needed to be handled better sure, but it's not bad,ooc or cringe, cheesy maybe but not the kind of cringe you are trying to make it pass. The real deal here is you don't really care about any of those things you just hate the ship the book revolves around and again that's fine but just be honest it's way more respectful than taking away the work af a queer author that tried to settle more the idea of a queer couple being normal and equal to a straight one to a group of young people who are living in a society that still is against queer people.

Damnit shut up, do it for the gay kids

A former kid (still queer tho)

(if i made mistakes forgive me english is not my first language)

#tsats #the sun and the star #percy jackson #pjo #nico x will #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo

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kopivie · 9 days

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akutami gege has (once again) made an enemy out of me.

[spoilers for jujutsu kaisen ahead.]

in my attempts to further humanize gojo satoru, i decided to create the gojo clan since gege just casually refused to do so. because idk how many other people noticed, but other than gojo satoru, there are no known gojos in jujutsu kaisen. so naturally, i had to intervene.

so far, my list of jjk ocs has grown from one (fushiguro harumi) to five. the list is actually still growing and it's going to get even bigger because of this fucking conversation.

y'all. Y'ALL.

[last warning: long rant approaching.]

so for those who are unaware, satoru and yuta are supposedly descended from sugawara michizane, one of the big three vengeful spirits in the jujutsu kaisen universe. but what i find so cool is that sugawara no michizane is quite literally one of the three great onryō of japan.

the three great onryō of japan were revered because it is believed that after their deaths, their resentment lingered on and caused misfortune for the country and their opponents during life. officials at the time enshrined them as kami and deified them in shrines to try and calm their rage from beyond the grave.

sugawara no michizane is one, taira no masakado is the second, and emperor sutoku is the third. (not in chronological order, but you get what i mean.)

"but cinna!" i hear you asking. "why would this make gege your enemy?"

i'm so glad you asked!

why, dear reader, in the ever-loving fuck, did akutami gege toss in this bit about gojo and yuta being descended from one of the three vengeful spirits and then proceed to do nothing with it? hm? riddle me that, batman. why is it that this absolute gem of a lore nugget is being left to rot? hm????

"but yuta and gojo are special-grade sorcerers!" okay, and? what else? there's so much left unanswered. i present to you my list.

cinna's unanswered questions & complaints:

1. where are the other descendants of sugawara michizane?

it can't just be yuta and gojo, right? even if none of the other gojos or okkotsus have any plot relevance, just knowing that they exist should be enough, right?

2. what about taira no masakado and emperor sutoku?

see, this second question is where my brain starts to sizzle. because sugawara was capable of producing descendants who can freely manipulate space and possess eyes that allow them to have a nearly unlimited supply of cursed energy to tap into, shouldn't the other two vengeful spirits have produced such powerful offspring as well?

oh, sub-question:

2a. if the six eyes allows for extrasensory perception and all those other benefits, would that mean that sugawara michizane had those eyes during his time as a spirit?

follow me on this one: the six eyes are a gojo clan exclusive. nobody else can have those. (well, yuta can now, but we're just. not gonna talk about it.) so as descendants of sugawara michizane, would those be the literal eyes that he had? is that why he was such an important spirit?

ugh... anyways. moving on:

3. would the kamo and zenin families be descendants of taira no masakado and emperor sutoku?

there's no indication from gege that the other two even existed, but there's three big families. three vengeful spirits. are you following me? i hope so. because it should be an easy question to answer, but NOOOO. (fucking hate gege, man.)

whatever. next:

4. why the fuck would someone say that yuta was related to fujiwara?

now, this is what got my pen moving.

the fujiwara clan in japanese history was an incredibly powerful family of imperial regents. they had the imperial court in their clutches until the meiji restoration in 1868, which should tell you a lot about their influence.

that said, the fujiwara clan was directly involved in the death of sugawara no michizane. they were involved in all three of the great onryō's stories, but sugawara no michizane's encounter is a particularly negative one.

because you see, the fujiwara clan was sugawara's political enemy. in the year 901, fujiwara no tokihira claimed that sugawara was favoring another prince over the true crown prince. to make a long story short, this accusation caused sugawara to be exiled, and he died just 2 years later.

there's a laundry list of misfortune that befell japan after his passing. but the point is that sugawara gained his title as one of the three great onryō for a reason, okay?

so why in god's name would someone say that yuta was related to fujiwara, who was directly responsible for sugawara's exile and subsequent death and reign of terror? WHAT??? literally what????? they would be enemies, not relatives! and in what way would both of their assumptions be right?? in what fucking world???

i'm rubbing my temples right now. you can't see it, but i am. just trust me.

...anyways, i have some solutions, believe it or not. and all of them involve me writing a fic. big surprise there.

cinna's proposed solutions to the great onryō problem:

1. find a way to connect the remaining two sorcerer clans to the remaining two spirits.

a simple solution. just come up with backstories that somewhat adhere to history and tie it into the kamo and zenin clans. should be easy enough, right?

but i hate the easy way. i hate that solution. throw that shit away. i refuse to be boxed in by existing plot boundaries. so we're gonna cross that shit out.

cinna's proposed solutions to the great onryō problem:

cinna's ACTUAL solution to the great onryō problem:

1. create two hidden clans that are descendants of the remaining two spirits.

2. continue to breathe life into the gojo clan

3. put actual PEOPLE in these clans

4. tie them in to the lore of jujutsu kaisen

5. fix jujutsu kaisen completely

6. profit.

(for legal reasons, that 6th note is a joke. i have no intent to make money off of a jujutsu kaisen fanfiction.)

but i'm serious. i'm going to wait until jujutsu kaisen ends (because the end is finally near, thank god) and then i'm going to just rewrite the entire thing. i've been sitting on this idea ever since we lost gojo, but i'm serious this time. seriously serious.

"how serious are you, cinna?" i hear you ask again.

deadly serious. i have the previous clan head, his wife, and three gojo siblings all ready to go. fushiguro harumi is already locked and loaded, waiting for her moment to shine. i have the foundations of the other two secret clans written in a notebook.

i'm serious about this. akutami gege has made an enemy of me, and i'm about to make it everyone's problem.

anyways, thank you for making it this far. i'm fucking insane. it's 12 am and i'm probably going to do a little writing and research until i decide i'm ready to sleep.

#[ 🌱 — blah blah. ]#jujutsu kaisen #i hate gege #gege hater supreme thats me #i have to fix this

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shyguycity · 5 months

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It's been a while since I made a formal game of the year list on this page; in 2020, my now wife and I decided to make an entire fanzine about my favorite games of the year, which ballooned in size and scope from there. If you're interested, you can find the link to the (free!) magazine, Critical Diversions, as well as see what else I've been up to in the gaming space, over at https://twitter.com/crit_diversions. It was written by five people, myself included, layoutted into a magazine format by me, and with some lovingly done illustrations made by my wife. We've also started a discord, games club, and podcast, all under the Critical Diversions banner, if any of that sounds appealing to you.

Since that magazine project, I haven't really had the creative energy to write a full game of the year list the way that I used to. Until now! 2023 has been the most incredible year for game releases that I've been alive to see, and there's so much to be excited for and talk about, I just couldn't resist anymore, despite the fact that we're gearing up to do a community game of the year podcast. But before we get to the top 10 list proper....

Honorable Mentions:

We Love Katamari ReRoll + Royal Reverie

The original We Love Katamari, released on the Playstation 2 in 2005, was already one of my favorite games ever made, so it's borderline unfair of Namco to release an absolutely perfect HD remaster of it in 2023. Namco must've thought so, too, because this was one of my most anticipated games of the year, and I didn't even realize it had released until I happened to see it on the eShop. To the uninitiated, Katamari games task you with rolling up real world objects with your sticky katamari ball, growing bigger and bigger as you go, all with the intent of making your katamari big enough to make stars in the sky. It's a simple yet delightful enough concept on its own to be enjoyed by anyone, but add in an unmeasurable amount of charm and one of the greatest soundtracks ever made, and it's easy to see why this goofy little series has persisted for over two decades now.

For my money, this is the best entry in the series, practically spilling over with creative and fun new ways and reasons to roll over innocent bystanders and animals with a space ball given to you by your negligent, abusive father, who is also basically god. Oh did I forget to mention that there's an actual well told narrative with a genuinely emotional-but-not-saccharine message at its core? Buy this fucking game y'all, I've already seen it for as low as 15 dollars.

Final Fantasy V Pixel Remaster

Final Fantasy as a series misses way more often than it hits, for me. Yeah I love 7, its remake, 10, and 10-2, but by and large, every other entry I've tried to spend time with has left me incredibly cold (looking at you in particular, 6). Between craving a turn-based RPG and having the flu earlier this year, I decided to take a chance on the pixel remaster version of 5, released on consoles for the first time in 2023. Imagine my surprise when it became hands down my favorite entry in the series, as well as one of my favorite RPGs I've ever played.

Not to say that what's presented here hasn't been improved upon in the past 30 years; Octopath Traveler 2, a game we'll be talking about in my actual top 10, seemed to base its entire design around "Hey remember Final Fantasy 5? Let's make a way more open and less restricted version of that". Still, though, what FF5 was doing as an early Super Famicom game is pretty impressive; boasting a fairly open-ended job and multiclass system that's absolutely begging you to make as many fun combinations as you can imagine with your party members, it's a game that's infinitely more replayable than your average Final Fantasy fare, despite its lacking (but not horrible!) story. I ran through the game with a samurai that could also shoot hoardes of squirrels and bees out of my pockets, so you know it's a great game.

Super Mario RPG

Look, you'll never convince me that Mario RPG and Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door aren't both wildly inferior to the original Paper Mario on the Nintendo 64. I've held this belief (and grudge against these other Mario spinoff fandoms) for most of my life, and I will continue to do so. And I say this as someone whose first exposure to RPGs was renting the original version of this game as a seven-year-old!

"It's too simple!" I would always bleat feebly in the general direction of the nearest hardcore Geno fan whenever this game was brought up. "It's a solid blueprint for what was to come later, but largely feels like a rough draft, a 16-bit Final Fantasy with a Mario coat of paint!" And, yeah, I am right about all of those things, and I'll continue to never let any of you forget it. But in 2023, playing this remake of one of Nintendo's most annoyingly favorited fan favorites, I couldn't help but let myself get washed away in its charms. There's no build variety or real "role-playing" to speak of, you can 100% the game in like 12 hours, and you just generally never have to turn your brain on while playing the game at all. Call it softness, call it old age, call it just really being in the mood for a cute and charming little adventure, but I fell in love with this game and its world in a way I never was able to previously. Bring on that Thousand-Year Door remaster next, Nintendo; I'm in a forgiving mood.

Dead Cells: Return to Castlevania

Speaking of being in a forgiving mood, did y'all know that I thought the original 1.0 release of Dead Cells was incredibly boring? Released in 2018, this sidescrolling roguelite was getting a ton of accolades at the time that had me extremely excited. That's not to say that it was bad, of course; I could see the markings of a well made game, and obviously the game was appealing to someone out there, with all the praise it received. But after 10 hours with it I deleted it off my Switch, thinking I'd never.........return.

It only took five years and a paid Castlevania expansion to make me give this game another look, but I'm glad I did, because I would put this pretty high up there on my all-time roguelite list now. To be clear, most of my issues with this game still remain, mostly that it gets repetitive much sooner than you'd expect of a game with as much content as this does. But instead of cooling on it 10 hours in like I did back in 2018, I got over 60 hours and dozens upon dozens of runs in before calling it quits on Dead Cells this time.

And if you're a Castlevania dork, honestly, just pick this up. There's more than enough love and fanservice here to keep even the most ardent of Castlevania freaks crying bloody tears, including the ability to replace the entire soundtrack with Castlevania songs, most of them the original version but with some new compositions included. Roguelite shredding in a video game hasn't been this good since Hades.

Now...the actual list.

10. Marvel's Spider-Man 2

No one is more down on open world checklist collectathons than I am; the idea of spending over 100 hours playing a modern Assassin's Creed game honestly makes my tummy hurt. And by and large, Spider-Man 2 doesn't stray far from this design template. You run, jump, swing, and glide all over New York City, stopping burglaries and car chases on your way to the next story objective or side mission, leveling up and spending points on various skill trees to level your Spider-Men up to gain new/upgrade old abilities, rinse and repeat. Structurally, this game isn't really doing anything different from the previous two Spider-Man games from developer Insomniac, and yet this entry was an absolute joy to play to me in way those weren't.

Largely, I think it's the pacing of the game. And not just on a macro scale, though I do think that's improved here as well. No, for me it was most noticeable in the combat; no longer are you holding down a button to freeze time and pull up a gadget wheel and having Spider-Man select one of his little science tools to shoot out before doing a few melee attacks and web shots. Instead, all of your gadgets and super moves are activated in real time with different button combinations. It might sound breathlessly dorky, but that simple change really sold the illusion of playing a Spider-Man simulator to me, and not just a Ratchet and Clank game with a Spider-Man skin.

The story I also found to be a wholesale improvement over the last two games, albeit with the caveat that the symbiote and Venom storyline almost never come across as anything beyond tryhard 90s edgelord shit in any form of media. Truly, I think Venom is just a straight up awful character, and is even worse here than usual, and I was exceptionally tired of Peter's gruff mean guy voice by the end of his time wearing the symbiote. Miles more than made up for any issues I had with the Peter side of the story, and with the way the game's story leaves off, I hope to see that character again sooner than Spider-Man 3 in another half decade.

9. Pikmin 4

This feels like Pikmin's big breakout moment as a series. And honestly, maybe my biggest surprise of the year isn't how great this game was, but how many other people were (finally) raving about Pikmin. The fact that it's this relatively low on my own list when most people I know that played it have it near the top of theirs shocks, while also making me feel pretty damn great about Pikmin's future.

From a casual perspective it's pretty easy to see why this has been such a hit for the series. It retains all the charm and cuteness and great gameplay loop of previous games in the series, while making a ton of smart changes along the way. New to 4: a fully adjustable camera that makes you feel way more involved in the action (and see all of the impossibly cute death happening around and to you); a whole host of quality of life changes, like being able to move your spaceship around each stage at will to have a more accessible base of operations; bonafide multifloor dungeons where you're able to soak in some of the best aspects of Pikmin's gameplay without worrying about time passing; "dandori battles", both against the CPU or local rivals where you aim to manage your armies as efficiently as possible; and partner space dog Oatchi, who can help you and your little army of dudes in whatever way you see fit, from battling to carrying to scouting, thanks to an honest to god skill tree. In a Pikmin game! Who woulda thought.

Honestly though, as great as this game was, I can't help but pine for the more complex level and puzzle design of Pikmin 3, as well as the local splitscreen cooperative play of Pikmin 3 Deluxe. That second feature in particular was sorely, sorely missed in our household, as Pikmin 3 Deluxe's sublime coop is some of the most fun I've ever had playing a video game with my wife. Here's hoping the now inevitable Pikmin 5 manages to bring these missing elements home, much like my group of 100 Pikmin carrying an entire watermelon the size of a small mountain back to our spaceship for the day.

8. Bomb Rush Cyberfunk

Besides just being a great year in game releases, 2023 was also the year where my expectations were subverted many times over. I'd seen plenty of overhyped indie spiritual successors to fan favorite games from the late 90s and early 2000s come and go, so my interest level for BRCF as someone that's never played a Jet Set Radio game couldn't have been much lower. But that's all on me, because if I'd known that this game and its inspirations were essentially just 3D platformers dressed up as a 2002 cyberpunk anime that'd air at 2am on Toonami, I'd have been all over it much sooner.

This game effortlessly pulls off everything I value in 3D platformers. The level designs are masterful and well thought out while still feeling organic instead of just abstract obstacle courses (the game does dabble into the latter at times, and they're some of the most standout moments as well). Being set in a city, it's naturally got a large emphasis on verticality that I think not enough games in this space bother with; I want to feel my stomach drop when I miss landing on a grind rail half a mile in the sky, even if falling from that far has no consequences beyond needing to pull off the platforming section again. And unlike the earlier Tony Hawk games, I'm free to explore each environment to my heart's content, looking for new songs to add to my playlist or spots just begging to be tagged with graffiti. Wrap all of this up in a style and soundtrack that are both just fucking cool, and what else could I really ask for? Well, besides just more of this, please.

7. Resident Evil 4

In a year full to the brim with remakes, remasters, and revisits, Resident Evil 4 is the one with the most expectations put on it, due to not only the pedigree of the original RE4 (often cited as one of the best games of all time, and surely the catalyst for the modern over the shoulder third-person shooter), but the obscenely high quality of Capcom's other recent remakes from the series; 2019's Resident Evil 2 remake, in particular, being one of the best big budget games of the last half decade, by my estimation. A lot of fans cited RE4 as both "impossible" and "pointless" to remake, though I imagine those same fans were the ones most anxiously waiting for this remake to drop with bated breath.

The end result? RE4 as a remake can't live up to the lofty expectations a lot of people probably hoped it could, not really, but I think it's also one of the most successful video game remakes I've ever had the pleasure of playing, in terms of the fun factor. The gaming landscape has changed a lot since 2005, a lot of that change because of RE4, so what do you even do to make a revisit under a modern lens worthwhile? I think Capcom didn't fully know the answer to that question, as the biggest mechanical additions to this game are the ability to parry the vast majority of attacks with your knife, and erm....craftable ammo? You'll of course find a handful of new enemies and remixed encounters, an even fewer amount of new weapons, and a couple welcome completely redone areas, like a mini open sandbox where you're free to explore the shores of a lake, and a much more clever and interesting version of the brief time spent playing as Ashley.

This might all sound like damning with faint praise, but truly, Capcom's ability to thread the needle here and deliver an honest to god, full on remake of RE4 with modern production values and budget, all without compromising the vision of the original, AND managing to make the remake tonally fit with the current vision of the extended Resident Evil universe? There's some black magic at work here, surely. Or at the very least some ancient parasite bugs at large.

6. Kirby's Return to Dreamland Deluxe

Kirby is the best Nintendo series, and this is an excellent remaster of one of the best Kirby games. What more is there to say? The only reason this isn't top three of the year material is because, well, I played it when it originally released on the Wii. But what's your excuse, coward?

I often hear the refrain of "Kirby games just aren't for me", and I used to humor that line of thinking, largely to avoid prolonged contact with dumb babies. But that dies today, and so will you if you don't stop being a dweeb. High quality sidescrolling brawlers with lite platforming elements and puzzle solving, set to some of the best music ever made for the medium, sporting an adorable aesthetic that's used as set dressing to cover up some of the best backstory and lore this side of Dark Souls? That's not for you? What is for you then, besides being a sad weirdo that still waxes nostalgic about the girl you held hands with once in middle school? Her mom dropped you two off at the theater once to see White Chicks and she never thought about you again. Grow up. Change something about your life. Kirby's got more charm and delight in whatever his puffy mass equivalent to a pinky is than Super Mario Bros. Wonder managed to wearily attempt to slump over its shoulder for an entire game. Y'all should be ashamed.

...

I dunno what this bit is anymore, so let's pivot back to normalcy. Yes, I know, I know, I'm the Kirby guy. It's my favorite gaming series, hell, maybe my favorite franchise in any medium period. But I'm also not blind to its faults and missteps, such as 2018's Star Allies. When I tell you that Return to Dreamland Deluxe, a remaster of a game I played over a decade ago, now with additional content, is one of my favorite games of 2023, I really mean it. The base game was already excellent, and the first entry of the modern era of Kirby, under the helm of Shinya Kumazaki. A new cel shading-adjacent rendering, coupled with completely new abilities Sand and Mech on top of perhaps the overall best set of copy abilities in a Kirby game, really help make the game feel fresh; Sand's combo and damage per second capability in particular is through the roof, while not feeling imbalanced.

The meat of the new content, however, is the new epilogue, in which you play as fan favorite character Magolor. Magolor plays very differently from Kirby, eschewing copy abilities and quicker movement for magic, and the game also introduces an honest to god skill tree into the series. This mini adventure culminates in not only what is probably my favorite boss fight of the year, but an in-universe lore explanation for why Magolor shows up in spinoff Kirby games adorned in green instead of blue and trading in crystal apples.

That may sound goofy and extremely in the weeds, and it is, but for a man in my mid-30s that's been beyond bored of Nintendo's refusal to do any significant kind of world building or storytelling in almost any of their mainline games, Kirby manages to continuously surprise and delight me with both its gameplay and universe in a way no other Nintendo game is even interested in trying. The Super Mario games should take heed.

5. Octopath Traveler 2

I played both demos for the original Octopath Traveler back before that game came out, and to say I didn't like it would be an understatement! The writing was at best flat, and at worst, overtly sexist (and that was just from a demo!), I found the battle system to be clunky, and the thing most people praised it for, its "HD2D" approach to graphics, I found quite ugly; it seemed to be throwing away any attempt at an actual artstyle in favor of cranking a bunch of photoshop filters up to max and letting people ooh and aah over some particle effects and oversaturated lighting. Great soundtrack, at least.

I couldn't tell you what drove me to check out the demo for 2, but I did, and instantly, something clicked for me that didn't in my limited experience with the original. Full disclosure, I haven't finished this game yet, and in fact I don't think I'm even halfway through. And that's a shame, because I think it could honestly rise even higher up this list, based on what I've already played. The battle system is fast and snappy, as long as I'm paying close enough attention to all the information on screen, like enemies weaknesses and my current BP situation. The overworld feels far more inspired by popup books than I remember 1's world feeling like, while still retaining the gorgeous battle sprites that the original excelled in. The soundtrack is an all-timer, to put it lightly. Even the writing for the characters, while still nowhere approaching the rest of the game's strong points, feels less like it works exclusively in lazy caricatures and broad stereotypes. Yeah there's a merchant character named Partitio from an old west-styled silver mining town, and yes I was just as worried about that fact as you probably are reading that sentence. And yet, Partitio has honestly become one of my favorite characters of the year, his desire to use his mercantile skills to ease the burdens of the working class only being outshone by the electric guitars and saxophone in his theme song.

What truly impresses with Octopath Traveler 2, though, is its sheer openness. The world is, while not quite your oyster right from the start, pretty dang free form for the most part, allowing you to go recruit your party members and explore towns and monster-filled wildlands in whatever order you see fit. This extends to the job system, which affords you the most freedom to truly make whatever kind of team you see fit I've ever seen in a game of this kind. I'm currently multiclassing my cleric, Temenos, into a scholar, and I've rarely felt cooler/dorkier at the same time, wielding nearly every magic type offered in the game at once with one world-weary church inquisitor. Just typing up this entry has got me itching to get back to the game, hoping to discover even more jobs to multiclass the rest of my crew into.

Take it from me, someone who as little as a few years ago felt pretty much over turn based RPGs, especially those coming out of Square-Enix: this game is very worth your time, regardless of your feelings towards the series, or even genre as a whole.

4. 30XX

In a year chockful of exceedingly excellent roguelites (Dead Cells: Return to Castlevania, Risk of Rain Returns, Cobalt Core, Vampire Survivors, just to name a few), 30XX stands tall above the rest for me, not just in terms of quality, but also in its ability to completely take over my gaming time for a couple months. This has all the trappings you expect from a game with the structure of a roguelite; permadeath resulting in having to start your entire run over, unlockable items and stat upgrades purchasable with currency carried over from the run you just died in, powerups that you collect during a run to give yourself a fighting chance (and which force you to make on-the-fly decision making about how best to synergize your build), and a white knuckle intensity that makes the runs when you really start to shred feel all the more rewarding, albeit no less anixety inducing.

What ends up separating 30XX from any other game in this admittedly crowded space is that it's essentially a roguelite take on Mega Man X4, the beloved Playstation 1 entry in an even more beloved series. X4 was the first game that really fleshed out lightsaber wielding cool guy Zero as a fully playable character, for the first time letting you play through the entire game as both him and series protagonist X. 30XX makes no bones about its inspiration; Nina, the blue one, is the X equivalent, meaning you'll be primarily shooting enemies with your arm cannon, while Ace, the red one, slices and dices with an energy sword, just like Zero. Likewise, the (absolutely gorgeous) spritework and extremely catchy soundtrack are doing their best to evoke the oft overlooked aesthetic and sounds of 2-D games from the Playstation 1. Rounding out the package are full-featured coop, both local and online, community made levels, daily and weekly seeded runs with leaderboards, and the promise of even more updates, including new characters(!!).

Even Mega Man series staples you might not expect to show up in a roguelite take on the formula end up being major focuses of the game, like gaining new abilities from defeating bosses. The game even takes that mechanic a step further, letting you mix and match two abilities to form completely new ones, like combining your black hole and homing lightning abilities to create a barrage of homing lightning strikes emanating from a swirling void. Or, in true roguelite fashion, you can even forego an ability from a boss altogether, if a different reward suits you. And that's just if you're playing as Nina! Ace gets an entirely different set of abilities and mechanics, all built around melee capabilities and close quarters combat.

If any of this sounds appealing to you, you're probably now asking yourself "why have I never heard of this game?" And I truly can't answer that, as this feels like it should already be a revered indie darling on the level of Shovel Knight or Super Meat Boy. If you're a Mega Man fan, please do yourself a favor and check this out. There's even a separate mode that minimizes the roguelite elements, including a removal of permadeath, if that suits you! This is a better Mega Man X revival than you'll likely ever see out of Capcom, if a day even ever comes for that at all. It also happens to be better than just about any official Mega Man game Capcom has ever put out, as well.

3. Sephonie

My personal gaming identity feels inexorably linked to Analgesic Productions, the two person development team that's putting out the best indie games most people have never even heard of. The only thread on Resetera I've ever made was solely for the purpose of evangelizing Anodyne 2: Return to Dust, a game that resonated so hard with me the effects are still reverberating outwards, as my habit of recommending that game anywhere I go has helped me forge genuine friendships (and probably gotten me on to a few government watch lists). Even the Ocean was the third game my friends and I covered in our games club, and was by far and away the best talk I've ever had about video games, sparking a creative spirit in me for months afterward. Marina Kittaka and Melos han-tani make some real affecting fucking games, is what I'm saying, and the idea of trying to sum up what makes Sephonie so special (and maybe even my favorite of their impressive work) is a bit daunting.

At its most base level, Sephonie is a 3-D platformer not dissimilar from the Tony Hawk Pro Skater series, or even the above Bomb Rush Cyberfunk, albeit without any wheels; instead of tilting the analog stick to move at whatever angle you want, you hold a button to run forward, the stick's sole purpose being to make adjustments to direction. Your mobility on its own isn't very versatile, and getting around requires careful and clever use of the environment to do wall runs and jumps, grabbing giant dandelions to float, landing on mushrooms to bounce, etc.

Even for a self-proclaimed platformer guru (maybe even especially for one!), the movement feels unwieldy or even downright intimidating at first. But in Analgesic we trust, and by the end of my initial 8 hour or so playthrough of the game, I felt like a parkour god, able to pull off complex maneuvers that I would have never been able to dream of in the opening sections of the game. Coming to grips with the controls and eventually mastering them was one of the biggest joys I experienced in video games this year; don't go into this expecting s Super Mario Odyssey-level of 1:1 control that lets you immediately start flowing through the environment like a hot knife through butter, because that's decidedly not the point here. Despite what the past few console generations have taught us, we don't need standardized controls across every game, as all that would serve to do here is sand down the distinct personality and learning opportunities presented in Sephonie.

Rounding out the gameplay are linking puzzles. The three playable characters are researchers who have come to the remote island of Sephonie to study its unique animal and plant life. Linking with each new lifeform you discover presents you with tile-based block puzzles, which end up being a nice change of pace from the platforming. As a testament to just how much love and care was put into Sephonie, the vast majority of these linking puzzles each have unique mechanics, be it teleporting tiles, tiles that are blocked and need busted open by matching blocks on adjacent tiles, tiles that multiply your point total, creatures that travel the puzzle and alter when and where you're even able to place your tiles, etc. With some tweaks, the link puzzles could be a whole game unto itself, and it's really impressive!

That's all well and good, but the main reasons I come to Analgesic games are the unbelievably good writing and even unbelievably-er soundtracks, and both are where Sephonie truly shines for me. Unfortunately, to talk too much about the story here would be bordering on a cardinal sin, and you're better off listening to some of the music on your own. Why not try the entire playlist here?

The previously mentioned Anodyne 2 opens by telling you it's a game about life. That's a bit of an understatement for me with Analgesic's games in general, but Sephonie might be the best example of "a game about life" that I can think of. As someone that grew up in a midwestern town full of basically nothing but nothingness and corn, the Bloomington, Illinois section of the game is without a doubt the most beautiful segment of any game I've ever played, and the main thing I keep coming back to with this game even six months later. I've never been so simultaneously full of nostalgia, regret, disdain, self-loathing, and fond memories as I was while platforming around an abstract dreamscape version of a midwestern town right off the highway. And I don't think I've ever related to a character in any fictional work as much as I did when Amy was talking about feeling lucky she was born in a small town, because it made learning how to drive much less intimidating.

If there's one game on this list I would beg someone to give a shot, it would be Sephonie. Hell, if there was one game I could force anyone to play, Sephonie might be taking that spot as well. As a thorough contemplation of what it means to be alive, and what connecting with one another can truly mean and feel like, there's no better work of art out there today, and certainly not one anywhere near as fun, either.

2. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

What can I say about TotK that hasn't already been expressed in a million think pieces, essays, and podcasts across the entire internet by now? As a direct followup to 2017's stellar Breath of the Wild, I had concerns going in - would the magic still be there? Is exploring the same incarnation of Hyrule going to be fun when I know all of the broad strokes already? Are the bosses not going to suck this time? The answer to all of these is a resounding "absolutely", but there's so much more on offer here.

Everything in this game makes BotW feel like a rough draft, a sentence I never in a million years thought I'd be typing prior to getting my hands on the game. Any mechanic you can think of that you loved in the prior Zelda entry is either improved upon here or excised for something infinitely more interesting. The Sheikah slate abilities from BotW feel not only basic, but downright boring compared to the powers on offer in this sequel. Who cares about being able to spawn bombs at will when I can fuse batwings to arrows to make them fly further? Or just swim through through the damn ceiling!? To say nothing of the fact that you can build basically anything your imagination can spring into existence, from cars to rocket ships to pilotable mechs to lawn mowers. And it all....just....works, somehow, not only tonally with the game's world, but also from a game perspective. The game even lets you have five CPU controlled companion characters out at the same time, every one acting independently to take down enemies near you! It feels like your Switch is going to collapse under the weight of this game's ambition at any moment, and yet I put over 300 hours into the game with not a single crash in sight.

If there's one thing I can complain about, it's that the story feels like an actual afterthought, to the degree that it actually bummed me out, even as someone with rock bottom expectations when it comes to story in a Zelda game. The marketing REALLY hyped up the return of longtime series antagonist Ganondorf, and he just....kind of has no motivation for anything he's doing here. I'm not asking for much, and there are genuinely great character moments lightly sprinkled throughout the game's runtime, mostly with princess Zelda herself. But I couldn't help but imagine how much harder some story beats could have hit if Nintendo, again, actually even attempted to give people the tiniest but of anything to chew on when it comes to the stories they're telling.

But whatever, I've got a catapult to build to launch me and a korok buddy up a damn mountain.

Baldur's Gate 3

Like most people who cut their gaming teeth on more straightforward action fare on consoles, the term "CRPG" (computer RPG) seemed beyond out of reach for me. Dice rolls? Skill checks? Playing as a charisma based character to persuade bosses to kill themselves instead of having to fight them? READING!? Uh, I'm an American, thank you very much; I like my video games game-y and my gravy portion extra, ma'am, and I don't have the patience to think about probability and stats.

So imagine my surprise when, after my wife started playing the game on her own, I found myself itching to get into the character creator myself. Not the moment to moment gameplay, mind you, but the character creator, a step I'm notorious for getting through as fast as possible so I can start "actually playing", even if I'm stuck with a boring default character named Goober. Something about watching my wife agonize over which horn style and subrace to go with on her tiefling bard, which hairstyle and color looked cutest and would match her vision of how she was going to roleplay in the world, stirred something in me I didn't know existed. While she was perusing all the customization options, I spied the class "monk" and a race called "dragonborn", some anthropomorphic dragon people with a lot of pretty color options for their scales that also affect your elemental resistances. "Yes," I thought to myself. "I'd like to make a humanoid lizard dude that punches shit to death. I'd like that very much". And before my wife was barely out of the tutorial section on her first character, we were already backing out to make a second save file where we would play the entire thing cooperatively, fretting over the decisions and romance options each step of the way together. I got to make my silverscale (that means he's got ice powers, baby) dragonborn monk, Shikai, and the following 300+ hours (and counting!) with Baldur's Gate 3 have been the most fun I've ever had playing a video game.

Would I be as gobsmacked with the game if I was intimately familiar with the genre? Maybe not, but I guess that's my point. Living with my wife and playing games together has completely changed how I engage with a lot of them; Animal Crossing was basically a cute chores and debt repayment simulator with a dash of fishing on the side until watching my wife play the game for thousands of hours taught me the joy of decorating.

Elden Ring was her first foray into the Souls-like genre; she had a similar reaction watching me play the opening hour of Elden Ring as I had watching her in the BG3 character creator, growing increasingly frustrated as she watched me putz around making a boring dexterity based samurai character when what she wanted to see was some faith-based holy magic in action. Despite my love of Souls-likes, I had always just made standard melee based characters in them, usually katana wielding doofuses; I'm an American, I don't know a lick about incantations, I HATE thinking, and please keep your Wes Anderson movies to yourself, ma'am.

But as I saw how much fun my wife was having shooting fireballs and throwing lightning bolts at enemies, I eventually started speccing my dexterity character into intelligence as well, making a samurai sorcerer, undeniably the only thing cooler than a normal samurai. That's not to say that playing Elden Ring with a melee exclusive character is wrong, but just that with a touch of curiosity and willingness to take the tiniest step outside of my comfort zone, a comfort zone I didn't even realize was as tiny as it was, I opened up a whole new way of enjoying a game I already loved playing. Learning to enjoy Baldur's Gate 3 feels like I've opened the door to an entire new avenue in my mind, waiting for me to fill it with opinions about games I've been avoiding my whole life. I'm gonna actually make a concerted effort to finally play stuff like Mass Effect and Disco Elysium sometime soon, two games I had preemptively decided years ago were just "not for me", and I'm genuinely excited about it.

This entry is so long already, and I didn't even mention anything about how the game actually plays (it's the best turn-based battle system I've ever experienced, to say nothing of the freedom you're afforded to solve every single scenario presented to you in the game.

Or anything about the characters (this is the best cast of characters I've seen in any medium, and they feel like genuine friends of mine in a way that no other game has ever come close to feeling).

Hell, to save time and my poor fingers: Baldur's Gate 3 is without a doubt the best video game I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing. And as little as a few months ago, my only thought towards it was "that game probably isn't for me".

Don't make my all too human mistake; check out shit that looks interesting, take the chance to expand your mind and your taste. They're not all gonna be Baldur's Gate 3-level bangers (what is though, really), but you truly never know what you're going to discover. And you might even find yourself open to a whole new avenue of life to enjoy that you had previously assumed was just for mega dorks.

#gaming #nintendo #pc games #ps5 #goty 2023 #game of the year

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after-nine-at-the-oasis · 14 days

Text

AAAAHHHHHHHHH TOMMYYY :DD

AWW AYY BABEYS GETTING CREDIT :D

Oope?

Hmm will something suspicious happen

Ope no suspicious of him :o

Nooo Bobby :'(((

AAUOAGH Y'ALL I'M NOT READY FOR THIS 😭😭😭💔🥺😬

I've heard him say this too many times in these past few episodes 😭😭 :(( o.o

AUAAGHHH BOBBY NO

Uh oh o.o

UAHHH OH

FROM HIMSELF O.O 😭??

UAGH YEP PROBABLY

OPE NOPE MAYBE NOT O.O

Idk could be probably both 😭😭😭🥺💔💔😬💔

Anyway UMMM O.O???

AUOGH FIRE EXCUSE ME?? O.O

Y'all I do not deserve this 😭

Guys I'm stressing o.o xD

That was wild y'all o.o episode and promo xd

Well, that's the last of my last thoughts, now it's time for the. . .

REVIEW

I LOVED this episode y'all!! Seeing Bobby's backstory was absolutely HEARTBREAKING my gosh 😭😭💔, and I'm so glad everybody's okay in present day <33. I think the relationship explored between Bobby and Amir was really interesting, and I'm glad it wasn't all just tied in a now at the end. Also the flashbacks and the backstory in general were not at all what I expected and they hurt :'). xd But yeah it was such a good episode.

This'll be pretty short bc. it was just Bobby lol.

Well-

Hen, Eddie, Buck, Chimney, Maddie, and Ravi! Missed you guys :D. I'm sure they were doing great xD. Well everyone's kinda been going through it except Buck but eh you know lol. Anyway, love them all <3.

Athena! Seeing her support Bobby is so sweet :')). They're literally the most supportive couple ever <33. Also her coming in at the end when he was injured :'D. I love them so much <333. Also, I'm glad she helped him find Amir and stuff (pretty sure she did). And that she let him do what he needed to do but still told him what she thought, that he didn't need to and such <3. I love her :')).

Bobby! DUUUUUDE he was so good this episode 😭❤️🥰. His backstory just absolutely killed me 🥺💔😭 xd. Like I said, I did not expect his drinking to go back to childhood, that's just- awful :((. That last shot of him pouring a glass and drinking it broke me 😭😭. Also him trying to save his dad :(((. I didn't register until it switched to the flashback of them taking away his dad (though to be fair Amir had only just said it, but I didn't think of it before he said it either) that he's the one he's always trying to save :'O DD':. Or more literally, the reason he's always trying to save people. That's just heartbreaking 😭😭😭🥺💔. Anyway, I'm so glad they all ended up okay in present day <33. And that Bobby never gave up, on Amir or in general :')). He got them out of there <33. And he definitely has all of those people's trust and respect now lol xdd. Hopefully he doesn't decide to do work down there now as well xD. Not that it's not good stuff to be doing, he just has awful luck and enough of a history there lol. Especially literally a history with the cartels xD. Also, I admire that he's always so compassionate in the fact that he always takes that chance to make amends. He didn't just stop because it was hard, he tracked Amir down (and then tracked him down again to save his life xd). Icon :')). Anyway, he ABSOLUTELY SLAYYYED!!! Ate it up this episode <333, as always 🥰. My boy, my babey <333. I love him so much :D ❤️❤️ <3.

Overall, I really enjoyed this episode! I thought it was great :D. It was stresssfulll though man xD. Again, I'm glad everybody mad either out okay <33. Another layer on that being that I don't think Bobby could have handled losing more people right now, especially Amir :(( (though any time in his case). But everybody's okay :')) 🥰🥰🥰. I'm terrified for the next episode though lol o.o xd. HE BETTER BE OKAY 😭😭😭🥺❤️!!! Anyway, this episode was really well done, with the flashbacks and everything, and their placement. It was so good :)). Just enough heartwrenching with some victories in there xD.

So yeah! I loved this episode, it was amazing. It was cool to see the focus on Bobby, too. I'm excited and terrified for the next episode! This has been my review of. . .

9-1-1, Season 7, Episode 8: Step Nine

It was so good! I'm excited for the next episode, and to see everyone else again, but I'm also terrified for Bobby. I'll be back next week with my review of. . .

9-1-1, Season 7, Episode 9: Ashes, Ashes

See you then!

#9-1-1 #911 #oasis's 9-1-1 chatter #seeing step nine and then episode nine is still kind of funny to me lol #it's just kind of silly (not in a bad way just funny to me) that episode 8 is called step nine xD #anyway lol #911 abc #such a good episode :DD #and I loved the focus (and it was definitely needed for this episode - not to mention properly setting up the stakes for this one; it's not #just a side plot or one of the plots you know lol?) but I'm so excited to see everyone else again :'DD :D 🥰🥰🥰!!!#but yeah :)!#see you tonight :D #I love you all :DDD ❤️❤️❤️❤️!!!!#byeeee :))) 🥰🥰🥰🥰 <333!!!!

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beneaththegildedmoon · 11 months

Text

*BIIIG fuckin rant hours btw (esp. in the tags) so I guess scroll on if you're not down for that. Might delete later but I need to vent*

So I identify as nonbinary and gender queer (though not really trans, doesn't ring true for me personally) and tbh I'm very sick of the Online Queers talking shit about enbies whose partners identify as straight or gay/lesbian rather than bi for "settling for someone who doesn't respect" us.

My partner loves me more than I ever thought humanly possible and respects me possibly even more than he loves me. He also happens to identify as a straight man. When we met, 6 years ago, I still identified fully as a cis woman, and he viewed me as such. About a year ago, I came out to myself and to him, and tbh he doesn't fully "get" all of it because he's literally never had to question anything about his identity in his life up till now, but he tries his best and has never once made me feel like he doesn't see me for the person I've come to realise I am. He is also, obviously, still attracted to me and still loves me just as much, despite our outwardly incompatible clusters of labels.

Maybe the relationship wouldn't have held up if I decided to present significantly more masc or had any inclination to physically transition, etc. but I really don't. Maybe if I'd come out much earlier in the relationship, we would have amicably gone our separate ways. Maybe not. We'll never know because after 5+ years into a serious relationship, you dont really see your partner through the lens of social constructs like gender. You just see them as your person. So there was never really a question for us of how my nonbinariness would or wouldn't affect things. It just didn't factor into it.

If we weren't already together, my partner would likely only approach women. He has only dated women in the past, and apparently never really thought about other options. I am the solitary exception to an extremely strong trend. I'm not insecure enough in my identity to demand he change his whole concept of his sexuality and identity to fit the specific edge case I represent into it. In much the same way that I wouldn't demand a lesbian suddenly identify as bi just because they were attracted to me. Other people's perceptions of my gender, and the interaction their stated sexuality has with that is their business. As long as my partner can reconcile the two in his own head, that's good enough for me.

Identity, and especially queer identities, are so much more nuanced and complicated than a single word can fully capture. It's unreasonable and frankly patronising to assume you know the intricacies of someone else's relationship dynamics based solely on those words. It's also condescending as fuck to tell me my partner doesn't respect my queerness just because he's straight when you don't actually know either of us and I'd thank y'all to butt the fuck out.

#rant #enby #nonbinary identity is complicated #and im really fucking sick of this shit #we're all just out here living our lives #why do some of y'all feel the need to insert yourself into other people's business like that #he's seen all this shit online and got really worried i felt disrespected by him identifying as straight #this man straight up broke down crying when he brought it up bc he was so scared it would hurt me #he told me he understood if i felt like i had to leave and he never wanted to hold me back from who i am but that he still loves me #all bc you idiots couldnt keep your uninformed stupid ass opinions to yourselves #i am so fuckin mad ab this tbh #like #pissed as HELL #would gladly hunt y'all down and drag you in front of him to make you apologise kind of mad #this man is my whole entire universe and y'all made him think i would hate him for being straight wtf is even happening #and yeah yeah yeah i know the straights are hardly the victim on a broader scale #but the point is that i am a grown ass person and dont need internet teens with the capacity for nuance of a toddler speaking for me #might delete this later #just needed to get this out of my system bc the rage was consuming me from the inside

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flowers-and-fichte · 1 year

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TEN - MAGDA

A/N: FINALLY! THE MOMENT WE'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR HAS COME! MAGDA MEETS KÜNZLE! I'M SO EXCITED FOR Y'ALL TO READ THIS! IT WAS AN ABSOLUTE BLAST TO WRITE THIS!

Warnings: a pinch of sensitive themes

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Ever since Sergei and I arrived at Sophie's, the woman had been sending me out to run errands. "It's the blonde hair," she had explained the first time. "You will pass."

It is now two weeks after our arrival, and Sophie is pushing me out the door. "Buy some groceries," she says. "From anywhere you can find them. And please, don't get caught."

With that, she shuts the door in my face and I am left outside in the snow.

I look around, deciding where to go before settling on a random direction. I keep my head lowered for no particular reason at all. Sophie is right, though. My blonde hair helps me pass as German, or at least how the Germans think that everyone here should look. I don't know if they would tolerate my dark eyes, though. But I know of one guard back at Dachau who had eyes that were such a dark shade of brown that they were nearly black. I also remember how he had a sort of vendetta against Soviets, and he would harass Sergei and the other Russians at the camp just for "fun".

Pushing the negative thoughts back, I look down at the sheet of paper that Sophie has given me. It's a grocery list, not very long, and I stick it into my coat pocket as I bustle past groups of men, women, and children wrapped in scarves, hats, and thick wool coats. I look around for a store, my eyes landing on a building with shattered windows and the word "Jude" painted on the glass. I shudder slightly at the sight, but notice that the light is on, meaning that there must be people inside, perhaps even other shoppers.

I push the door open, hearing it creak as it closes. I look around, but no one is present. A single lightbulb suspended from the ceiling by a wire flickers above my head as I get to gathering items. Thankfully, Sophie provided me with a bag that was large enough to hold everything, which includes some sugar, fruit, and a large slab of meat. I figure that it's perfectly all right to steal, since no one is around to give money to or to arrest me.

Thankfully, none of the food is stale or moldy, as the store was probably abandoned at least a week ago. As I leave, I hear a voice whisper, "Psssst!"

I gasp and turn around, but no one is there. Setting my bag down, I whisper, "Is anyone there? Please tell me."

A hand sticks out from the top of the old cashier desk and beckons for me to come over. Before I even have time to look around, the hand yanks me over the desk and onto the cold, hard floor. I let out a sharp cry before I hit the floor, rubbing my head to soothe the pain.

"Hi."

I hear a soft whisper from behind me and whip my head around to see a tall, broad-shouldered, red-faced, young, blonde man staring back at me. I take one look at him and scream.

He's in the Gestapo.

He'd arrest me.

His expression turns from a smile to one of concern and he softly whispers for me to calm down. I stop screaming and he whispers, "Don't worry. I am not a Nazi. I won't hurt you." He reaches out and gently grabs my arm. I look into his eyes. They are a cold blue, but at the same time, there is some warmth to them. My breathing is now shuddery, and he lifts his other hand and gently places his fingers over my lips in an effort to quiet me down. His eyes flick to the windows.

"Keep it down or they will see you!" he hisses through clenched teeth. I raise a brow at his sudden change in demeanor. We stay like this until he lets go of me and lifts his head up before looking back at me.

Then, without a warning, he shoves me against the ground and I feel the floor against my face. I hear the sound of boots and the door opening and the sound of men speaking German. A minute later, the door closes and the men are gone. The officer comes back and helps me up. What happened? Is he going to kill me? Was he lying that he wasn't with the Gestapo? The uniform sure doesn't make it look like that.

"You are safe now," he says, his German accent thick. "I apologize for what happened. I didn't want to hurt you. You are okay, yes?"

I nod, still speechless after the whole incident. "I don't know what to say," I breathe, which turns into a nervous laugh.

"Do you live here?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No." His voice lowers to a whisper. "I do business here."

"You work here?"

"I hide Jews here."

My eyes widen. "You...hide Jews?"

"Of course."

"Do you act alone, or do you do it with others?"

"I have friends, one of whom is an actual Gestapo agent. We take people from the streets who are headed for the camps, claiming to have 'other plans' for them, but we hide them in the rooms here in the store." He smiles proudly.

"Well, I guess I should probably tell you this, but..." I begin, but he beats me to finishing it.

"You're Jewish, aren't you?" he asks. I nod excitedly.

"Yes! Yes!" I exclaim. "From Poland."

"Poland? How did you end up here?"

I don't answer. I don't want to tell him about Dachau. "I...was saved by a woman here. Her name is Sophie. She found me."

"That's very nice of her. She must be a brave woman."

"She truly is."

He gives me an understanding look.

"What's your name?"

"Werner Künzle."

"It's very nice to meet you, Herr Künzle," I say, and he smiles.

"Likewise."

I pick up my bag. As I begin to leave, Künzle calls out, "Wait!"

I stop.

"Yes?"

"Well, I suppose if this Sophie protects Jews, I should meet her," he says softly.

I bite my lip. "I'll see...I can take you with me, but I'm not sure if she'll believe you, because of the whole..." I gesture to his uniform. He nods.

"I understand."

I don't know why I'm bringing a complete stranger, let alone one in a Nazi officer's uniform, to meet Sophie. But I get the feeling that he is genuinely a friendly person, so I decide to act on my thoughts.

Taking my bag in one hand and Künzle's hand in the other, I lead him outside and onto the snowy streets of Berlin back to Sophie's house, hoping that she will indeed understand him and perhaps even like him.

Then again, I find him quite attractive. I had never met a man like him before, and I somehow know that he is telling the truth. I don't know if it's bad that I began to fully trust him right after we met, but he seems like the right person besides Sophie whom I can depend on to protect my life.

It's as we're walking home that I realize something.

I don't know if I've ever met the "right" person for me until Künzle...

#historical fiction #part 11 #novalis writes

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kiame-sama · 2 years

Text

Open The Door- (Yandere! X Reader)

On TicTok and I kept hearing this commonly used sound and it sounded so much like a yandere I had to do a small fic. There is no set yandere, but I would like to know who y'all think can fit the personality.

Warnings; murder, blood, feral behavior, yandere, yandere regret, manipulative behavior, obsessive behavior, temper,

~~~~~~~~

"(Y/n) will never love you."

That sentence alone had been the sole cause of the carnage left behind. Just five words that sealed the fate of countless others.

Blood pooled on the floor around the various bodies, the faces that were still intact enough to show expressions remained frozen in complete terror. It was clear that the group present to witness the event unfold would not be making it out alive to share their horror story. Even the monster who committed such carnage would not breathe a word of it to anyone if he could help it.

But... That was before a frightened whimper drew his attention, eyes slowly sliding over to see you standing there with a horrified expression. Your legs slightly shook and it was clear you would bolt at the slightest provocation. His favorite thing about you were those sweet doe eyes of yours and the way they made you look so innocent to the world around you. And now, you stared at him like a frightened deer that just noticed a hunter sitting in the trees, those same doe eyes brimming with tears as you took in the carnage.

"(Y/n), we can talk about this."

He started, his hands slightly raised in an attempt to soothe you, but the moment he took a step towards you, it was clear you were not going to listen. Fear is surprisingly good at making people run faster even if they aren't very fast to begin with. By the time he reached the door, you were scrambling around the corner in an attempt to find somewhere to hide from the man you thought you knew. The sound of a slamming and locking door down that hall told him exactly where you had decided to take refuge.

He took the moment to calm himself, knowing that you would only be more frightened if he tried to approach you while in an aggressive state. The fact of the matter was that he knew he lost his temper with those fools in the other room, but he hated the fearful expression you wore when you looked at him. He didn't care if others were afraid of him or if they had a negative opinion of him, he can handle being society's outcast. What he can't handle is when you look at him with that horrified and untrusting expression. You are the one person he never wanted to scare.

As he approached the door he could hear you panicking on the other side, panting and gasping for air as the scene took its full mental toll on you. He wanted nothing more than to hold you and soothe you until you managed to calm down, feeling that near desperate need to protect you from even himself. Where he could easily destroy the door and get to you, he knew that would likely only make things worse so he chose to knock ever so gently.

"(Y/n)? Open the-"

"Go away!"

"Open the door please."

Despite how you snapped and cut him off, he was still going to try to get you to open the door yourself. It would be far less upsetting for you if you chose to open it versus him breaking it down to get to you. When you didn't respond, he decided to try again.

"(Y/n), open the door."

More refusal to communicate followed, the soft sound of you sniffling and whimpering scratching into his heart. Every noise of distress you made only added another slash to his heart, feeling frustrated that he couldn't hold you like he needed to. His need to comfort you began to agitate him, but he still tried to maintain a steady voice that pleaded with you.

"(Y/n) can we not fight anymore please?"

That's all it was to him. A small lover's quarrel. It could be fixed so easily and all you had to do was open the door for him. All you had to do was not fight him.

"(Y/n), I'm sure you're scared, I've been there. I can set you free..." Your refusal to respond made his frustration all the more annoying in his mind, the sugary tone he had been using dropping as he became serious, "(Y/n), don't make me come in there, I'm going to count to three."

He was pacing in front of the door now, eyes never once leaving the handle as he anticipated your reaction. If you responded and opened the door, everything would be alright and he could comfort you. If you didn't respond he would start counting.

So, will you respond?

#yandere #x reader #kiame-sama #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #tw murder #tw blood

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koishua · 3 years

Text

𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗪𝗡 — 𝗖𝗬𝗝

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: CHOI YEONJUN X ITZY MEMBER!FEM!READER.

𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘: fluff, established relationship.

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: mild language, implied overworking, lowercase intended.

𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧: 2,0k

𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦: practice for your upcoming solo performance had drawn out longer than needed, so your boyfriend decides that enough is enough and picks you up from the studio to bring you back to your dorms.

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 𝗙𝗥𝗢𝗠 𝗩𝗜𝗘: y'all. this got too long ;-; was supposed to be like half a thousand words lmao anyways i hope you enjoy :( comments and reblogs are vv appreciated <3

𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗕𝗬 𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡

being an idol under JYP entertainment, one who had debuted only a few years ago, obviously sets a heavy expectation on your shoulders, all eyes on you at all times to monitor your each and every move to compare you to your seniors who had gained immense domestic and worldwide success, wondering if you would be able to continue their legacy.

a solo stage like this could either make or break you.

muscles trembling under the weight of your limbs, you push yourself up in a brief handspring. the clock reads 02:18, the moon well above the clouds at that point of time after midnight, not that it ever stopped people like you from remaining in the brightly lit rooms till the morning comes anyway.

on top of the preparations for your comeback, going over your last song, arranging a remixed version to said song, and this new responsibility toppled on top of you, sleep or heavens forbid rest is the last thing on your mind.

sweat spills in little droplets on your clothes, quite a few dripping on the laminated floors that screech under the soles of your shoes after a quick step forward.

you do not hear the silent buzzing of your phone resting on your backpack, your jacket thrown hastily over it as well. the music is loud enough, the beat of your heart too prominently heard in your ears to the point where even the speakers almost can’t break through the rapid rhythm.

having missed the second call, yeonjun furrows his brows, shrugging his shoulders and merrily continuing along his way towards the building he was told that you might currently be at. granted, he was also an idol who had his weeks filled with mandatory schedules and he too needed his sleep, but yeonjun has his thoughts filled to the brim with you almost every moment of the day.

is she eating enough? you probably weren’t.

is she drinking enough water? he hopes you don’t forget to.

is she resting enough? unlikely, but it would be ideal.

with those in mind, how can he not just throw a jacket over his shoulders and rush to drag you out of the room you had been cooped up in for who knows how long? too late at night to be recognised but still taking the preemptive measures, he only has a dark mask to shield his face and a bucket hat to hide his very noticeably dyed hair.

he leaves a short message in hopes that you would see it before he arrives, a loving smile etched on his lips behind the fabric covering his mouth, i’m picking you up so you better be ready to leave practice in twenty minutes.

though he realizes that he shouldn’t have counted on that with a strained smile.

you are still jumping all over the hard floor when he arrives on the upper floors where dance practice studios are located, a single light coming through the small window of the heavy doors. you are flushed and breathless, opting to lay on the ground for a short break to let the dizziness pass by so that you can pick yourself back up to continue. yeonjun despises the sight he is greeted with.

your chest heaves up and down while massaging one of your calves, a pained grimace present on your face while going through the motions of loosening tensed muscles. he pushes the handle to make his way into the room, putting on a warm smile to greet you with.

“i’m here!”

you feel yourself jump out of your very own skin, having not expected anyone in the room at this hour. “i’m going to an early grave because of you someday, jjun.”

your whiny tone makes him throw his head back to laugh wholeheartedly. picking up your bottle of water that he sees on the floor next to your stuff, he crouches down in front of you, “don’t push yourself too much, you could end up hurting yourself badly.”

“i know, i was almost done anyways. i just have to get the landing down and then i was going to leave.” you gulp down the water greedily, feeling your heart steadily calm down. yeonjun shakes his head, “you landed the flip so many times already. you showed me, remember? don’t worry, you are more than ready.”

you don’t know what happens then, but the resolve you had in your mind to not leave practice until sunrise breaks at that moment. maybe it’s his concerned gaze that settles on the droplets running down your temple, the gentle way he dabs a towel over your face, making his way down your neck, or maybe it’s his voice that lulls you to follow him wherever he goes, you say yes.

you give in.

you can’t stand the thought of sending him away when he had taken his precious time off of his night to pick you up, that would be terribly unfair and disappointing to him. so you agree, “okay, i’ll stop. we can leave.”

the surprise is evident in his expression. relief and excitement flashing in his eyes for a brief moment, “great! change into your spare clothes and i’ll walk you to the dorms.”

your pitiful waddle towards your bag to rummage through the various objects fills him with so many unexplainable emotions which make him want to scream into his pillow and squish your cheeks all at once, leading him to sneak up behind you and envelope you in a backhug, his tall frame draped over your body in his usual clingy fashion. it had taken you a decent amount of time to get used to his endless affections but now, whenever you were away for a little too long, you’d crave for him and his touches.

you can’t help but snigger because of his antics, the weight that had been dragging you down all but forgotten at that moment, “i can’t put on my jacket and we can’t go if you don’t get off me, choi yeonjun. i’m dripping with sweat, be disgusted for once and move it.”

there is no real venom in your voice, he knows. no matter how much you liked to express your annoyance at him, you never mean anything by them and that, in his humble opinion, is absolutely adorable.

choi yeonjun’s heart can never handle you, he just finds anything and everything you do either of the two of the following: pretty fucking hot or downright mindblowingly wholesome. currently, he is sobbing over the way you are looking so charmingly at him.

“okay, i’ll let you go.” he nods, and yet none of his arms unwrap themselves from your middle.

“fine, i’m just going to stay here and—” your threat does the trick.

by the time you sneak stealthily out of the building together and into the night, it is past three am, sleep awaiting for you on your bed back in your shared room with ryujin— who is, unbeknownst to you, punching the air, knowing where you are and who you’re with after having contacted your wee ol’ boyfriend to drag you out, since she herself hadn’t been able to herself.

“do you want me to give you a piggyback ride?” he offers a teasing smirk painted on his lips as always, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. you feel him squeeze your palm in a light manner, urging you to answer when you have fallen silent, feet almost trailing behind you from the exhaustion settling in your bones.

“no worries, we’re taking the bus, right?”

sure enough, you eventually come to a halt under the bus stop nearest to your company building, waiting for your line to arrive. a cool breeze sweeps by, sending shivers down your spine, something yeonjun doesn’t fail to notice.

“your body temperature must be very low since you’re still cooling down from practice, keep this on until we get you back home.”

his tone is quite final and it breaks you out of your drowsy daze when he discards the thick jacket off of his back to slide your arms through the sleeves, your bag already being carried by him. you nuzzle into the oversized design, feeling cozy with his scent and body warmth that had lingered, “you didn’t have to, thank you.”

it’s too late at night to be irritated by his hands ruffling your hair into a further mess and him taking off your beanie just to do that one motion doesn’t really bother you all that much through your half asleep state.

“i can’t be looking like a bad boyfriend. i’m a gentleman, i’ll have you know.”

the ride takes a short while, letting you rest your head on his shoulders to comfortably doze off on your own without anyone else on the empty bus. taking the opportunity to snap a quick picture of you, he mutters to himself, “cute, pretty, very cute and pretty. why is my girlfriend so beautiful even while pathetically sleeping in a bus?”

his lips stretch into a grin when you whisper a small and passing threat at him, eyes still closed shut, “i can hear you and i will smother you in your sleep.”

“we, honey, don’t even live together.” he pouts further when he hears you mouth a small “unfortunately.”

“would you like to live in a house with me some time in the future?” his words are significantly lower in volume then, watching the streetlights blend into each other as the vehicle you sit in passes by. your answer makes the most tender part in his heart tremble.

“do you really see a future with me?”

you sound so painfully vulnerable, honest and hopeful with your delivery. he plays with your hands, bringing one up to plant a kiss on the back of it through his mask, “i don’t see any future for myself without you.”

you chuckle under your breath, “if so, then yes. let’s get one just for the two of us. kitchen windows facing the sunrise, a small balcony, lots of green plants…”

you slowly fall right back asleep midway through counting all of your wishes. if only you could see through his mask and your bleary eyes the way his eyes crinkle around the corners, genuine giddiness leaking out of his mere expression. choi yeonjun cannot wait for that future with you, he realizes with a foolish smile.

the short walk from the stop closest to your dorm to your destination is a haze you get by, not remembering your companion's rambles about his playful quarrels with beomgyu nor the conversation on the bus.

it's when you feel him completely stop that you feel the sleep ebb away from your system. he had pulled you to the darkest spot in front of the building to bid you a goodbye.

wordlessly, he pulls down his mask to press a chaste kiss on your exposed forehead, "we're here, so i'll get going, okay? i hate seeing you so tired, so rest up a lot."

you can only nod when his hand lingers on your waist, almost unwilling to let go and walk away, "be careful or i will worry about you and won't be able to go to sleep."

that earns an amused laugh from him, "oh, really?"

"yes, really. now go before the sun starts rising or something." you squeeze his hand one last time before letting him reluctantly go. because choi yeonjun always loves to have the last word, he turns back around, whispering a meaningful "i'm proud of you, you're doing amazing."

hopefully, no one had seen the aggressively loving flying kiss he had sent your way afterwards, god knows how you'd never hear the end of it from the girls if they did.

#txt imagines #txt fanfic #txt x reader #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt yeonjun #txt yeonjun imagines #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #choi yeonjun #ryujin

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intercoursefluids · 2 years

Text

BMFBMLBME Chapter 1

This is a new daminette fic I am working on, hope y'all enjoy! (Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for either all of my fics or a specific one)

“Okay, drinks, food, blankets, comfy clothes, movies, what else is missing?”

Marinette turned toward the two girls she had come to calling her best friends.

“You! Now lay down so we can start already!”

Chloe’s irritated voice drags Marinette out of her planning haze and back to the present.

“Hey! It is our precious Gummy Bear’s first ever sleepover! It needs to be perfect!”

Kagami laughs at Marinette’s protest, reaching out to pull her friend down to the bed where she and Chloe already lie.

“It is already perfect, Princess. Our beloved Honey Pot if right, the only thing missing is you now stop worrying.”

Grumbling the entire time she is being pulled onto the bed and under the covers Marinette can’t help but feel a little sad that Adrien hadn’t been allowed to come.

“I wish Adrien could’ve come. I was able to convince your mom, why wouldn’t you guys let me try my hand with convincing Gabriel?”

Kagami pulled Marinette’s blue hair out of its pigtails, and Chloe started to make a braid in it as the first movie started rolling.

“You know why. Gabriel would have never let Buttercup out in the first place. Especially since Lie-la wouldn’t be here to choke him with that damn leash she forced on him.”

Marinette groans, knowing Chloe was right.

A little while after Lila started turning the rest of the class on Marinette, Adrien, Chloe, and Kagami ended up being the people she trusted the most.

Luka had ended up graduating early so he could go with Jagged Stone on tour and Marinette and her friends had all come to the decision that it was for the best to leave him in the dark. Besides, Juleka may not say anything but they were all pretty sure she didn’t believe Liar Rossi anyway.

“I still can’t believe Gabriel believed that lying wench over his own son!”

Kagami tugs a little too hard on Marinette’s hair causing her to wince.

With a mumbled apology, both girls finish her braid before turning to Chloe’s hair.

“You know what I still can’t believe?”

Marinette hummed, trying to decide on how to style Chloe’s hair. The girls had done a fishtail braid for her and she quite liked it.

“I can’t believe that our hair is actually blue, like naturally. I just always thought that you dyed it and treated your roots all the time like Gummy Bear here.”

That was another thing that had happened recently. Surprisingly enough, giving people nicknames was one of Chloe’s love languages so now they all had one that they used religiously.

“Well unlike Gummy, my mother’s side of the family has a genetic mutation that usually only happens to the women and turns our hair blue. Papa calls it the mark of a Cheng woman. Gummy’s just a silent rebel.”

Kagami snorted, acknowledging the truth in her hair colour, it's not like her mother could see it anyway.

With a final twist of her hands, Marientte ties off Chloe's waterfall braid with a hair tie provided by Kagami.

“Okay, don’t move, I need to take a picture cause this is my masterpiece.”

After Marinette gets her picture she turns back to Kagami.

“Okay your turn.”

Kagami waves her off with a smile on her face.

“Sorry Princess. I think my hair is a little too short for you to do anything with.”

Marinette’s eyes narrow at the challenge (It wasn’t a challenge, she is just overly competitive).

“Nonsense, if there’s a will there’s a way. Now give me your head.”

Kagami playfully bats Marinette’s hands away from her hair. Trying to fight off the smaller girl's advances to no avail, and pretty soon Marinette had her pinned down and was twisting a braid onto the side of her head.

“We have a theme of braids going tonight and you will have one too.”

Kagami’s braid takes significantly longer than the other two, because everytime she shifted her hair would slip out of marinette’s fingers and she would have to try to find her grip again.

After it was (finally) done to Marinette’s liking the girls finished their movie and snacks before deciding to turn into bed.

__________

Marinette shifts in the bed, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes as she listens, trying to figure out what woke her up, entirely too comfortable to actually get up and look around

“Which one is it?”

She stiffens.

“She’s supposed to have blue hair but two of them do and we don’t know anything else other than that. Should we just take them all?”

A new voice joins the first, moving slowly Marinette tries to shake her friends awake without alerting the intruders.

As soon as her hand makes contact with Kagami she wakes up, rolling over to face Marinette.

“What, Princess? Need out of the bed-?”

“Grab them!”

Bags are placed over their heads, as they are dragged out of the bed.

“Let go! Let us go!”

Chloe’s panicked squeals sound out over the sounds of them struggling.

“Knock em’ out.”

Something pushes against the bag over her head, soaking the material and covering the lower half of her face.

Falling into full blown panic, Marinette fights as hard as she can, kicking the people holding her down, throwing her arms out and scratching everytime she makes contact.

She fights until more people come over and pin her arms and legs to the ground and even then she tries to hold her breath for as long as possible.

She hears the sound of something dropping to the ground before something is dragged past her.

“I got one of the blue ones, is the other out yet?”

A grunt sounds from above her as she is punched in the stomach and forced to inhale the sweet smelling substance. Her captor pushes harder on her face and some droplets of it fall into her mouth.

She fights, and she fights.

Until she can’t fight anymore.

She barely feels herself being dragged away somewhere.

She doesn’t feel the long car ride to the helicopter waiting for them, doesn’t feel herself getting placed in a seat with built in restraints.

She doesn’t even notice the blood that splatters on her face after her original captors have their throats slashed in front of her.

She never hears Talia Al Ghul as she sneers down at the men she sent to grab only one girl.

“Pathetic.”

#BMFBMLBME #daminette betrothal #maribat #marinette x damian #ml x dc #maridami #daminette

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Text

Cow Endeavor

Don't ask no questions you don't want answered. Either way, i have no answers for you. I cried while writing this

Praise kink, male lactation (🙃 say something i dare you) farm au, y'all know i love my breeding kink.

You were a simple farm hand. Every morning you'd wake up, feed the animals, and water the crops. It was your job to make sure everything was in order and working properly. In the essence of things working properly, that meant you had to take care of the farm's prized cow, Enji.

You weren't sure how or when he got here, he had just always been there. What you do know was that his performance in producing milk was so great that he had become the pinnacle for your farm, a mascot even. A cow that could make milk without even needing to be bred.

So it's understandable the panic everyone went into when their prized cow stopped producing his prized milk. "I just don't understand, he just had a calf but there's not even milk for hj., we had to result to bottle feeding!"

You pat Keigo's back reassuringly, "It's going to be okay, have you ever considered that maybe he's just too old now?" Takami's face paled, "You're right, what if our poor Endeavor has run his course?!" He then grips the front of your overalls and gazes you with a look that pierces your soul.

"You have to fix this, if they find out he's no longer making milk, you know what they'll do to him!" You nodded, retirement for farm animals was never fun, they'd either try to force his glands to make milk with dangerous chemically induced hormones, or it would be off to the chopping block.

So now, standing in front of Enji's stall, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. Though his primary caretaker, you had never seen Enji in person so this would be either overwhelming or underwhelming.

Opening the swinging doors, you stand amazed. It may be called a stall but it was nothing less than a renovated room. There was, of course, a wooden trough where his hay and water was, but there was also a nice bed for him and even a damn vanity with a 6ft tall mirror.

"Are you the butcher?" You jump and swivel your head around. There standing at a whopping 6,11, was the prized Enji.

His blue eyes were cold as they glared down at you, and if you hadn't seen his massive pecs, you would have confused him for a bull.

"Uh, no I'm not. I guess you could say I'm going to be your doctor today." Enji rolled his eyes and walked past you. He sits on his bed and for a moment, you saw a look of sadness etched in his scared face. A reminder of a past problem.

"Look I'd recommend you replace me with Touya, he can't do it as often but the quality in milk is just as good. I only ask that you allow little Shouto to sleep with him here, he gets terrible nightmares when he's alone."

You cursed your bleeding heart as you were two sentences from crying. Shouto was his most recent calf,, not even old enough to graze, yet he was far away from his mother where he should be, sucking and carefree.

"Well I hope it doesn't come to that, can you get comfortable?"

Enji lays on his back, sinking into the soft bed below him. You step out the stall and grab your bag of tools. You walk up to Enji and feel your face warm as he looks back at you. His face remained stoic as he watched your hands maneuver the bag clamps.

You let out a loud shriek as a warm hand envelopes your left breast. "If you were a cow, I'm sure you'd make excellent milk." You laugh awkwardly before breaking into a coughing fit as Enji releases you.

"Thanks, could you remove your top for me?" Enji sits up and does as you ask and you balk at how much bigger his chests were when released. "Mommy milkers." You whisper to yourself, catching Enji's attention. "What did you say?"

"Nothing!" You put your stethoscope in your ears, and hold the circle piece to his chest, uttering small apologies when he hisses at the cool temperature. You do the normal required check up before moving to the current task at hand.

You start to put on your latex gloves but it's stopped by Enji shading his head. "I don't like the way they feel." So with your bare hands, you examine his chest.

First you massage the skin around his nipple to try to coax some milk out. With no luck, you decide to pay attention to the actual nipples balancing from prodding to pinching them. "Normally when things like this happen it means that something could be blocking the exit." Enji huffed, "Why won't you people accept that I'm just old?!"

You ignore him and continue. You feel around the swell of his breasts and push inwards with two fingers. At that, you faintly catch the sight of his pink buds being coated with clear shiny liquid. Enji's face warmed at the feeling of it dripping down the valley of his chest.

"See, what did I tell you!? It just needed a little coaxing!" You press and prod more trying to coax a consistently white spurt of milk but soon run dry. Enji's face was completely red and sweat had accumulated on his brow. He was internally thankful for the pants he requested as an embarrassingly large bulge was present just below the fabric.

"S-See all that was just a shadow of what I once was." You flick his nip and shake your head, promptly missing how his eyes gently rolled back at the feeling. "Calm down edge lord. I think you need a constant force, I'm going to go get Shouta and see if he can suck more out and hopefully shift whatever is blocking."

You stand up and give Enji a reassuring smile. Rising into a panic, Enji grabbed your forearm, "Don't bring him!" You pout your lips, "Well who do you want me to bring?"

Enji grits his teeth, he didn't want any of his calves to see him in such a state, but he knew this was an opportunity for him to stay at the farm a little while longer. Gently, you feel yourself being tugged.

You trip over yourself, slightly leaning over Enji which gave him the perfect opportunity to cradle the back of your head. He says nothing as he holds you closer, and it wasn't until you saw his flushed face, that you realised what he wanted.

"E-Enji, I don't think this is appropriate I-" Enji wastes no time before pressing his hardened nipple into your partially open mouth. Your protest is muffled as he pressed your face closer. His eyes closed tightly as your warm breath fans over his cool skin.

Soon you realise that you were not going to be let go anytime soon. You reposition yourself the best he would allow you before closing your eyes as well, and sucking gently. Enji lets out a sigh that reverberated down his body.

You let out a muffled exclamation as you feel a warm liquid

flow into your mouth. It was thicker than the clear liquid you saw before, bittersweet and addicting without any additives. It was easy to see how Enji had become the prized cow.

Enji's grip slackened when he felt you relax against him, but you barely noticed as you became enraptured in the taste of his milk. In a strange way, suckling from him felt almost intimate in a maternal way.

Despite your innocent feelings, Enji found himself becoming aroused at the sight of you enjoying him. In all his years of work, he had never seen someone, besides his calves, drink his product.

"D-Do you like it?" You hum around him and he had to clench his teeth so he wouldn't release any sounds. You find yourself getting pliant in his arms, becoming more focused on getting more of the psweet liquid.

You soothingly lave your tongue around his nipple and Enji can't help but let out a small moan. His dick was painfully hard in his cotton pants and there was only so much he could take.

You remove yourself from him with a wet pop, before applying a kiss to his swollen bud. Rather high off happy chemicals, you stand shakily to your feet. Enji had drool and small dribbles of milk spurting from the unattended side of his chest. "You were so good for me Enji. I'm sure this will get you up and running in no time!"

With that, you utter a quick "thank you" and walk away, missing the large splotch of cum leaking from the fabric crotch of Enji's pants.

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It was 3 weeks before you saw Enji again. And you don't deny that you were avoiding him. What you did was beyond inappropriate and uncalled for. You should have pulled away and called for one of his calves.

But avoiding your job is just as easy as it sounds.

"Hey y/n, Enji thinks he's running dry again. Even though there seems to be nothing wrong when the machine mills him, I think you should go check and make sure." You stiffen and shovel a mouthful of lettuce into your mouth.

"If there's nothing wrong, I have no reason to go. Besides why can't you do it." Keigo looks at you with a raised eyebrow, "He requested you specifically." You feel your chest flutter with an unknown emotion and you quickly finish your lunch to avoid any conversation.

You enter Enji's stall the next day and watch silently as he immediately removes his shirt. Ever since your first meeting, his chests had doubled in size since the milk had finally been allowed to move freely. The sight of them excited you, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted.

You sit in a small chair next to Enji's bed and examine his swollen breasts. Even the slightest touch caused milk to spill forth and it became hard to ignore. "You're not really starting to dry up are you?"

Enji sighs before sitting up. "Ever since that day I couldn't get you out of my head." You tilted your head confused as Enji cups his breasts before trailing his large hands down his stomach to his crotch before gripping his obvious manhood.

"Enji this is going beyond inappropriate." The large man made a sound that was a cross between a desperate whine and a grunt similar to that of a bull. "Don't deny that you like it too, I saw the look on your face." You lowered your head unable to look at his eyes.

Thoughts mulled over in your head about what type of punishment you could receive from possibly contaminating merchandise. Would the milk be different? People have been sending letters about how much sweeter Enji's milk has gotten.

Ah, but the thought of Enji's sweet sustenance on your tongue made your mouth water. Enji hid a small smirk as he saw you finally make up your mind. He had missed you since your last encounter, he spent nights thinking of you as his tits swelled with milk.

You untie your work apron and toss it on the stool before straddling Enji's thick legs. In the back of your mind, the logistics of his height and weight made your shiver at the thought of his cock.

Enji brings you in for a kiss and the rather off putting taste of oats and spring grass floods your senses as your tongues intertwine. You use your hands to massage his breasts and feel your front become warm as you subsequently squeeze out some of his milk.

You place hurried kisses along his jaw as you make your way to the true treasure. The sweet taste of his milk overrides your morning meal and you are baffled by how different it was from last time.

Enji, no longer feeling shy, let out a groan as he holds your head close to him. His free hand pulls his leaking cock out and strokes it in time with your rough tongue as you press it against his sensitive bud.

"Harder my little flower." You sigh with contentment at the nickname and do as ordered. You feel Enji flex below you and you take pride in it.

You scoot your lower body closer to his groin and rock your hips against him. The feeling of your denim pants against his throbbing cock was almost too much yet too little.

"Please, let me be inside you." You raise your head to look at him and Enji almost coos at the milky dribble rolling out the corner of your mouth. You were such a small thing, needed to be fed, needed to be protected and most importantly, needed to be bred.

Dazed, you shimmy off your pants and underwear and grind your hips. "B-Be gentle okay?" You were trembling on top of him and it was absolutely adorable. "Of course my flower."

In the corridor Keigo was making his way towards Enji's stall. It had been beyond the recommended time for an examination so he was coming to see what was taking you so long.

As he comes upon the door, the sound of whining fills his ears. "Just a little bit longer, flower." His eyes widen and he takes four steps away from the stall door. "You sly fox y/n fraternizing with the produce." Keigo shakes his head in disapproval before shrugging with a small grin.

"None of my business."

The feeling of fullness was strange and uncomfortable. Enji was not long whatsoever, that was another characteristic that set him apart from the bulls. But he was thick to the point where you knew you'd have to work extra hard to accommodate him.

"You're doing so well for me flower." You rub your face against his bosom and resume drinking from him. The taste of his milk was therapeutic and before you knew it, he was thrusting fluidly inside of you.

The thickness of his shaft rubbed just right against your g-spot. The feeling of your soft lips alternating between each nipple, made Enji speed up his menstruations for he could no longer contain his pleasure.

He was sad that he couldn't bring you to completion as well but that can always be saved for next time. The feeling of his semen filling you felt just as amazing as the milk flooding your mouth and you clenched tightly around him.

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"It's not funny Keigo!" "Really? I think it's hilarious." You groan as you cradle your slightly protruding belly. You should have seen it coming, and subconsciously, you weren't surprised to see two pink lines on the pregnancy test that you took 4 months ago.

Now at 7 months and obviously showing, Keigo took the opportunity to bring up the fact that he was there when your new child was consummated therefore reserved the right to be it's godfather.

Telling Enji the news went scarily smooth as the cow bastard only replied with, "Of course you are pregnant, I'm the sire." Followed by him asking to try your milk as well, so he could critique. All his calves, now yearlings, seemed to take the news just fine and only seemed excited to pick baby names.

"Look, all I'm saying is, don't come crying when little junior starts asking about the family business." You groan as the dirty blond man continues his jokes. A small content smile is present on your face.

#black y/n #blackreader #am igonna lost my black card for this?#mha endeavor #endeavor smut #kinktober #male lactation #cow aesthetic #cow anthro #enji thirst #enji todoroki #enji smut #mha enji #bnha endeavor

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