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andvys · 2 months

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited feelings, sexual tension, reader teasing Steve sexually, not giving away anything else

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: After you and Steve cross a line, you are the one to take things to a whole new level — driving Steve insane with your never ending teasing.

Word count: 7.4k+

Author’s note: I know you keep yelling at me but anyways -- shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, especially the uh last part hehe.

Also, @prettyboyeddiemunson talked about a little crossover thing, and I love her girl in gods & monsters so she's making a little appearance here for Eddie hehe, all credits go to my bestie of course, the character belongs to her! If you haven't read the story yet, go check it out, it's one of my faves!

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Staring up at the ceiling, Steve sinks deeper into his pillows, finding more comfort in his bed than usual, he takes a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. He should feel content, knowing that he’s got the day off but instead he feels tense and frustrated in a way he had never felt before.

His mind could be anywhere right now, he could think about the new tapes he stacked up at work last night, he could think about the show he watched before he went to bed, he could think about the mixtape Eddie had made for him, he could think about the girl that so obviously tried to flirt with him at work the other day, his mind could take him to any place, his imagination could be limitless but no, his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be, his mind is with you.

Nothing he does, nothing he tries to think about can drag his thoughts away from you. You occupy every space of his mind, reminding him of how much control you had taken over him ever since you both crossed a line that changed things between you both.

Steve may have been the one who started it at all, but you are the one who took the game to a whole new level.

The little accident in his kitchen that happened weeks ago, was only the start of it all.

Steve wasn’t exactly subtle when he kept checking you out before the fiasco with the broken lever, and he wasn’t subtle with his touches either. He was treading on thin ice, he knew that, he knew that his slight teasing could have easily backfired if you reacted differently but it didn’t, and your reactions were everything that he was hoping for. You grew flustered, you started blushing, you stuttered and you looked at him the way he was hoping you would.

But, what he didn’t expect was for you to tease him back, especially in a way that had him blushing, stuttering, and staring at you in shock.

You were so innocent and shy at first, doing everything as subtly as possible. It started with gentle touches on his arm or his hand, soft whispers during dinner whenever he sat beside you, or long eye contact. Then, you realized just how much power you had over him and things quickly developed into something more, something so much deeper.

Your teasing was no longer innocent and your shyness seemed to have slipped away more and more, little by little.

The look in your eyes was no longer a shy one whenever you looked at each other. There was a fire behind your eyes that he had never seen before. The smirk that tugged at your lips wasn’t the same one you usually looked at him with, it was different, mischievous, and very suggestive – a little too suggestive for someone like you because if someone else had looked at him the way you do, he’d think that they’re flirting but you don’t do that and certainly not with him.

The only explanation for your behavior is that you are teasing him, playing with him just the way he did with you but not because you want him. He started something that night when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement. It was harmless at first, his teasing was light and playful, he loved to see those sweet reactions of yours but Steve didn’t know that it was a dangerous game that he had started, he didn’t know that he’d be playing with fire the moment he’d touch you.

Because you are far from harmless, and your teasing is not light and playful in the slightest. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling like this right now; frustrated, agitated and filled with pent up emotions that he can’t even make out in his own head.

He closes his eyes again as a groan falls from his lips, he shakes his head at himself, cursing inwardly for thinking about no one other than you.

Has it always been that way?

Have you always been on his mind?

Or is it something new?

An unspoken deal was made between the both of you when you two started this. There are no rules, just a winner and a loser – whoever breaks first loses and so far, it seems like Steve won’t even get close to winning, even though he was the one to start it all so confidently.

You clearly have taken over, because the moment you looked at him with innocent big eyes and a pout on your lips while pressing your chest against his arm when you tried to squeeze past him, your boobs nearly spilling over your cute little top, your voice sounding raspy from all the weed you had smoked that night, he was done for.

It wasn’t the first time that a girl had done something like this to him, plenty of girls have given him those innocent eyes, have pressed their boobs against him, in much less clothing… but something about you drives him especially crazy. Maybe it’s the fact that you both hate or dislike each other or maybe it’s the fact that he is just extremely frustrated – sexually frustrated. Maybe that is the only reason why you get to him in that way… why he feels the want to continue this little game or why he feels the intense need to fuck you and get you out of his mind, once and for all.

Another groan falls from his lips when he remembers that Robin bailed on him after she called him in the middle of the night, telling him that she wouldn’t make it to lunch today, meaning that it will be just Eddie, you and him.

A part of him even looks forward to seeing you, the other part doesn’t because he already knows how he will feel afterwards, while you will probably go home feeling satisfied after teasing the hell out of him.

Every time before you leave, you look at him as though you had done nothing wrong, which sometimes leads him to believe that you’re not even aware of all the teasing you torture him with and that he was the only one playing this game, all this time.

Steve drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower so the water can heat up while he brushes his teeth. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the mess on his head, he brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it.

As he thinks about what to wear, he gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about you, wondering what you will wear. Are you going to wear a dress? Another short skirt to drive him crazy with?

He rolls his eyes, cursing inwardly at himself for thinking about you again.

He needs to get this out of his system.

He needs to get you out of his system.

And there is only one way to do it and he knows it, but he’s not even sure where your feelings stand, if you’d be down for what he’s longing for or if you’d laugh in his face if he even tried to suggest something like it. – Your reaction would probably be the latter, and just the thought of it is enough to bring the grumpiness out in him.

He begrudgingly starts getting ready, all while his mind keeps him occupied with thoughts about you.

He doesn’t know what caused all of this, he doesn’t know how it happened, how his mind is incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but you these days.

He feels as though he had been cursed. You are haunting him, in his mind and even in his dreams, and seeing you all the time doesn't help at all… and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way because this little thing between you both makes him feel a thrill that has been missing in his life.

By the time Steve pulls up into the parking lot at the diner, you and Eddie are already there.

You’re sitting on the hood of his car, hands folded in your lap, sunglasses low on your nose, a smile on your lips as you’re nodding along to whatever Eddie is telling you. You look good… too good for just a simple breakfast at the diner.

He parks the car and after a few deep breaths, he pulls out the keys and gets out, trying not to stare at you as he walks towards the two of you.

“Hey guys.”

Eddie turns around, a mocking smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, “took you long enough, big boy.”

Steve chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he eyes you from the side, “yeah uh, I missed my alarm this morning and Robin woke me up in the middle of the night to bail on us, took me a while to fall back asleep after that.”

You groan at his words, sliding off the car, you smooth down your jean shorts and push your sunglasses up into your hair, “so she keeps ditching us.”

“She’s in love, Sweetheart,” Eddie winks at you, wiggling his brows, “she’s got better things to do.”

You roll your eyes at his words and look over Eddie’s shoulder, meeting his eyes for the first time today. You lick your lips as your eyes move down up and down his body.

“Hey, Lego head.”

Lego head. The silly nickname doesn’t quite suit the look in your eyes.

“Blondie,” he nods.

Eddie chuckles, playing with the keys in his hand as he nudges his head into the direction of the diner, “let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving, Eddie,” you snort as you are the first to start walking.

“Yeah man, you’re always eating and you’re still starving,” Steve chuckles, walking beside Eddie, “you’re like a raccoon or something.”

You look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips, “oh he’s definitely a little raccoon.”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise, he looks between you both, “did you just… agree on something?”

You scoff at his words, turning back around without another word while Steve looks down, shaking his head. The weight of Eddie’s arm around his shoulder makes him look back up, though not at you, but at Eddie, whose eyes are filled with amusement.

“You’re not trying to steal my girl are you?”

Steve doesn’t know what is about the words ‘my girl’ but he feels himself clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. By the tone in Eddie’s voice, he should know that he is only teasing, but apparently his mind isn’t able to comprehend that right now.

He feels a fire in his chest that he can’t even explain, one that only grows even more intense a few moments later, when a guy who was just leaving the diner, steps aside for you after opening the door.

Steve can’t see your face or the looks you are giving to the man who is staring you up and down with nothing but hunger in his eyes, but by the way you walk past him without even turning your head or looking back, he knows that you’re giving him nothing. And yet, it doesn’t stop his anger when the guy keeps checking you out, shamelessly, following you with his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at your ass. You’re not even aware of it as it seems and it wouldn’t be the first time.

Steve saw you at Big Buy’s the other day, you were strolling around the aisles in your cute little dress, throwing food items into your basket, completely unaware of his eyes on you. He couldn’t look away from you… even when everything you did was riling him up, whether it was the way you bend down to reach for something on the lowest shelf, the way you touched your hair or the way your dress was moving by your sides as you walked. As he caught himself staring at you, at your effortless beauty, he knew that he couldn’t be the only one – and his suspicions were confirmed, when he looked into the other aisle only to see another guy, not past his 30s staring at you, something that you weren’t aware of in the slightest. He also caught himself rolling his eyes and clenching his fists… but that’s something that he easily ignored.

Unlike today, he can’t even help it when he passes the guy who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you with a deathly glare on his features, feeling anger for how shameless and disrespectful his ogling is, it’s disgusting.

“Perv,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, glaring the same way Steve does.

The guy doesn’t even spare them a single glance, moving past them after taking another long… too long look at you before he walks out of the diner.

Steve and Eddie roll their eyes, following you to the table that you have already picked, completely unaware of what just happened.

You sit down in the booth, sliding over to the window. You put your sunglasses down on the table and instantly reach for the menu.

Eddie sits down beside you, while Steve takes the seat across from you. He tries not to look at you, sinking deeper into the leather seats as he reaches for the menu, as well.

“What are you guys doing afterwards?” Eddie asks.

“Nothing, just gonna go back home and watch movies or something,” Steve mumbles, peeking over his menu and at you, to find you looking at him already.

“Perfect, why don’t you two have a little bonding moment and have a movie day together?” Eddie grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you.

Steve sees the way you scrunch your nose up at his words, scoffing and shaking your head at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, like it’s something that you don’t even want to think about.

“We’re getting along just fine, no need for bonding time.”

Right. Steve had been so focused on all your teasing, he almost forgot about how much you two are supposed to dislike each other.

“Exactly,” Steve winks at Eddie, “Blondie and I are doing just fine.”

He looks back at you, his eyes meet yours, you raise your brows at him, smirking as you tilt your head.

“Are we?” You ask softly as you blink at him.

Steve leans closer, licking his lips, he opens his mouth to speak but Eddie cuts him off, clapping his hands.

“Yeah, you are getting along! Now shut your mouths before you start a fight.”

You both snort at the metalhead, leaning back in your seats, neither of you saying a word, you both just look back at your menu’s, focusing on that… for now.

The busy waitress stops by your table, telling you that she will be back to take your order in a minute, seemingly catching Eddie off guard after placing her hand on his shoulder before she scurries away again.

He no longer looks at the menu, he finds something more interesting to look at.

Steve’s eyes flash with amusement as he looks over at his friend, whose eyes are wide and cheeks are red, an awestruck expression all over his face. He can’t help but nudge your foot under the table, tilting his head towards Eddie when you look up with a frown.

You turn to your best friend. Your features soften, eyes flashing with surprise, you bump your shoulder into his, clearing your throat, “hey Ed’s, before you fuck this up again, don’t you want to tell Lego head about what happened?” You ask, snickering.

Eddie blinks, turning back to you, “h-huh?”

“You have a man to give you his opinion of what you did wrong.”

Steve furrows his brows, looking between your amused face and his confused one, when Eddie’s eyes flash with realization and he groans in annoyance.

“Sweetheart, he’s gonna be on my side.”

“What opinion?” Steve asks.

You turn back to your menu, scoffing at Eddie and rolling your eyes before you glance at him, “you’ll want to kill him.”

Eddie groans, shaking his head, his curls bouncing a little.

“You’ll understand, Harrington. You’re a man. She is… looking at it from a feminine side of things.”

Steve gives you a quizzical look, almost laughing at the exasperated look on your face.

“Alright shoot,” he says to his friend.

Eddie presses his lips together, taking a deep breath before he folds his hand on the table and looks at him with squinted eyes, “okay so, I saw this girl at the hideout yesterday, Jeff told me to go talk to her, you know… so I did. We started talking, she was funny and all that, and you know, I always like to be a little mysterious.”

You snort, making Eddie roll his eyes again, “shut it, Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Anyways,” Eddie sighs, glaring at you, “so, when she asked me if I was there with a girl, I just said ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’”

Steve draws back a little, raising his brows and pursing his lips, looking perplexed.

“Uh huh..” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve shakes his head, “just uh… did it… what happened then?”

Eddie sighs again, “well, she rolled her eyes and left, but you know, she may not have a sense of humor so… it’s whatever.”

“Munson, that girl had a sense of humor, you just have a lack of fucking tact,” Steve says, shaking his head at his friend, in pure disbelief.

Eddie’s jaw drops at his words, while a laugh falls from your lips as you turn to look at your best friend with nothing but satisfaction on your face.

“Told you.”

“Seriously!?” Eddie gasps, frowning. “Harrington, you were always mean to girls in the past, and you still slept with them!”

Steve scoffs, shaking his head.

“That was in high school, Munson! You are a grown up now, why the hell would you do that? Just tell her you were there alone or with friends!”

Eddie’s jaw drops again, he slumps back in his seat, throwing his hands up.

“I just thought that a mysterious persona would work better than… you know… bubbly, happy, go lucky guy, desperate to get his dick wet persona…” He whines, “no one wants to fuck me.”

You giggle, hiding your face behind the menu.

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, he points a finger at you, “I’m gonna have to agree with Blondie, again, you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll help you,” you say, smiling, “I’ll teach you how to flirt.”

“How are you gonna do that, Blondie? Do you even know how to flirt?” Steve snorts.

You may be a tease, a good one at that, but a flirt? No. You’re too rough, too mean, too harsh to be a flirtatious person, you can barely hold a conversation with someone without going off at them about something, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with, unlike him.

He is a flirty person, he has charm, he knows how to wrap a girl around his finger with just a few simple words.

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he surely didn’t expect for you to smile at him, to shrug and give him nothing more than a glance that tells him how wrong he is.

After the waitress comes back to take your order, leaving Eddie a blushing mess, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back with your hair now free from the scrunchie that kept it together and another coat of gloss on your lips, something that instantly catches Steve’s eyes.

You place your elbows on the table, putting your chin into your palm, blinking at him innocently.

The look in your eyes tells him that you’re up to no good, but he can’t look away. He leans closer to the table, licking his lips as he raises his brows at you. Both of you are unaware of Eddie, who is basically drooling over the pretty waitress, too distracted to notice the looks you are giving to each other.

“The waitress, is she from Hawkins? Never seen her in my fucking life,” Eddie murmurs in awe.

Steve turns his head to look at the woman, a gasp nearly tears from his lips when he feels your foot on his calf and you pull his attention back on you, he stares at you with wide eyes.

Smirking in satisfaction, you pull your foot back and look down at your nails.

“I-I don’t know, Munson, not familiar.” He stutters without looking away.

Steve knew that this would happen, that you would tease him in one way or another, but he didn’t know yet, just where you would take this today.

When your milkshakes arrive at the table, both you and Steve watch Eddie with amusement as he stares up at the blonde waitress, eyes moving back and forth between her face and her chest, not knowing what to look at first.

His eyes get stuck on the dainty cross necklace around her neck, seemingly growing more intrigued by her, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones.

Steve narrows his eyes at you, almost laughing when you look at him, at the same time.

Eddie’s cheeks are even more flushed than before now, his eyes wide, lips parted. The girl presses her lips together, trying not to giggle at the look on his face.

“Your food will come right up,” she says, looking between you all before her eyes meet Eddie’s again as she takes the last milkshake off the tray, putting it on the table and sliding it towards him.

He clears his throat, wrapping his fingers around the glass before she can even let go.

Both you and Steve watch the way she smiles down at Eddie and at the fingers brushing against hers.

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he smirks at her, surprising both you and Steve with the confidence in his voice.

The girl smiles in surprise, before she turns around, walking away from the table but not without giving Eddie another glance, his lips curl into a bigger smirk and he waves his fingers at her.

Your mouth drops and so does Steve’s, both of you, looking at each other again, with stunned and puzzled expressions on your faces.

“Dude,” Steve mumbles, slowly turning to face his friend, “tell me… how did you fuck this up again… at the hideout, I mean?”

Eddie only looks back when the girl disappears into the kitchen, “the girl at the hideout just wasn’t the right one.”

“Oh, and this one is?” Steve chuckles, pointing his thumb to where the waitress walked off to.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, dreamily. “She’s so…”

“Hot?” You ask as you reach for your milkshake, grabbing the red and white straw between your thumb and your pointer finger.

“Gorgeous,” he blushes.

Your lips tug into a smile, you bring your hand up to his face, pinching his cheek, “aw, look at you.”

He swats your hand away, snorting.

“I thought you didn’t know how to flirt, you’re doing such a good job, keep it up, Eds.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Eddie winks at you before he looks away, eyes searching for the waitress again.

“He doesn’t need your help after all,” Steve laughs, tilting his head, “not that you’d be much of a help anyways.”

You squint your eyes at him, shrugging at his words, and you surprise him with your silence.

He watches the way you lean forward, placing your elbow on the table as you finally wrap your lips around the straw. Your eyelashes flutter and you tap your red fingernails against the glass, a moan falling from your lips.

“Mmmh, that’s so good.”

Steve nearly jumps from his seat, the sound making his stomach flutter, he clenches his fists, staring at you with wide eyes.

There’s no smirk on your lips, no mischief behind your eyes, nothing but innocence is etched into your features – you’re not even teasing him, it was nothing but a genuine reaction to the sweet drink. And it’s something that frustrates him even more.

You reach for the maraschino cherry next, popping it into your mouth before you lick the whipped cream off your finger.

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, he shifts in his seat, trying to look away from your lips… that are still wrapped around your finger but he can’t, his eyes are stuck, his body is stuck, he can’t move, all that he can do is watch you.

And then, you look towards him, eyes flashing with surprise when you find him staring. He hopes to see you blushing but instead, a smirk tugs at your lips as you release your finger, scooping up some more whipped cream before you bring it up to your lips.

And this is where the real teasing begins.

Steve nearly gasps when you hold eye contact this time as you lick the cream off your fingers, letting out another, softer moan.

Holy fuck.

Steve’s eyes darken, he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw in anger.

Eddie is too busy with his own milkshake, ogling the waitress as she talks to customers at the bar, completely unaware of how you both eyefuck each other, the way Steve can’t take his eyes off of you.

By the look in your eyes, Steve knows how much fun you’re having with this, you know how much it frustrates him, you know what you’re doing to him.

And as though, all of this wasn’t bad enough already. You then accidentally drop some of the whipped cream on your chest.

“Oops,” you purr, giving him an innocent look through your lashes.

The warmth in his chest only grows more intense, spreading across his whole body, filling him up with need and a deep hunger that keeps growing and growing, one that can only be satiated in one way – he needs you, just once, he needs to have you, he needs to taste you, he needs to fuck you, he needs you out of his system for good.

He had enough of this, of all this teasing.

He would fuck you right there on this table if he could.

But, despite your teasing, despite the look in your eyes, despite your little act, he is still not sure about where you stand. He knows how you react to his touches, to his teasing, but a part of him fears rejection if he does make a move.

You are barely even friends, and the thought of making a fool of himself, in front of you, makes him want to crawl into a hole.

You are both playing this game, but while he knows what he wants, he doesn’t know what you want.

Maybe you just enjoy this little back and forth, waiting for him to break first before you move along and pretend like nothing ever happened. Maybe you don’t even expect anything to come out of this. Maybe you don’t even want him the way he wants you. Maybe you just like to tease him because you know that it's riling him up.

So what is left for him to do?

Stop this game and move on? Or… keep going and wait for something more to happen?

He’s had enough of your teasing, but he’s far from losing, there is still some power left in him… some.

He won’t sit here and let you get away with this.

So despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants, despite the burning in his skin, he plasters a smirk on his blushing face and reaches forward, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he mimics you, he grabs his glass and he reaches for the cherry on his milkshake, purposely dropping some whipped cream on the table as he puts the cherry in his mouth. He chews slowly, licking his finger tips while he watches you slowly, the way your smile slowly falls, the way your eyes widen a little.

He bites back the smirk as he scoops up the whipped cream off the table, with both his middle finger and ring finger, bringing them up to his lips, he looks back into your wide eyes as he places them into his mouth, watching the way you break eye contact to look at his lips.

Your throat bobs as you swallow, tightening your grip on your glass as you watch the way he licks his fingers slowly.

He can see the way you shift in your seat, the way your breathing gets heavier and your eyes darken, the way you lick your lips and how flustered you get as you look back into his eyes.

You are pressing your thighs together, he just knows you are.

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smirking at you in satisfaction while you still sit there, frozen in place. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his vanilla milkshake as though nothing happened.

“You gotta give this one a ride home, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at you without tearing his eyes away from the bar, “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer.”

You clear your throat.

Steve expects you to be more… nervous, to hear your voice wavering, but instead, it sounds confident, filled with yet more teasing as you open your mouth to speak.

“Oh, I would love a ride home with Stevie,” you smile at him innocently as your foot touches his calf again, but this time, it doesn’t just stay there, you move it up, just a little, but enough to nearly make him choke on his drink.

“So you can keep getting on his nerves?” Eddie chuckles.

You lick your lips, smirking as you nod your head slowly, “exactly.”

Yeah, you don’t really do this anymore, getting on each other’s nerves, you both have found something so much better and much more interesting to do to one another.

“You know I always win, Blondie,” Steve says so very confidently, like he isn’t slowly losing his mind because his want for you is beginning to consume him entirely.

You tilt your head at him as you bite your lip, the sleeve of your blouse slowly sliding down your shoulder, making him gulp.

“Do you?” You ask, batting your lashes at him, provoking him with the look on your face.

He bites the insides of his cheeks, nodding at your words, “mhmm.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you shrug and lean back, “we’ll see.”

Eddie doesn’t know that you’re talking about something entirely else now, but he couldn’t care less, when he’s got his eyes set on someone that stole his breath away.

He uses every second he gets with the pretty waitress to flirt, whether it’s through glances when she passes by or through his charming words when she delivers the food to the table.

He happily eats his burger and his fries, eyes following the blonde wherever she goes, completely blind to what’s happening right next to and in front of him.

You and Steve keep staring at one another, eyes filled with intense need, hands itching to reach out to the other.

Steve feels the longing inside his chest, intensifying as the minutes go by, driving him insane. It gets to a point where he can’t wait to get the hell out of this diner so he can go home and take care of himself. He is not sure if he had ever felt this desperate before – he surely never had to rush home to jerk off, but that’s what he feels like now, like he’s going to explode if he sits here any longer.

The moment you decide on leaving, Steve nearly throws himself out of his seat, feeling no patience left inside of him.

“I got this covered,” Eddie announces, pulling out his wallet as he gets out of the booth so you can get out, “you two can go.”

You grab your sunglasses and get up, putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I see what you’re trying to do, you wanna get rid of us so you can flirt with the hot blonde.”

He wiggles his brows, smirking at you proudly, “gotta score a date with my dream girl.”

Steve chuckles, grabbing the car keys from his pocket, he smirks at Eddie, “just don’t mess it up again.”

Eddie shakes his head, “nah never.”

“Alright casanova, call me and tell me how it went.”

“Call you?” He frowns, “I’ll be there to raid your kitchen tonight, sweets.”

You step away from him, brushing past Steve, “alright raccoon, I’ll see you later then.”

“See ya,” he chuckles.

With a sigh, Steve looks at Eddie, playing with his keys and giving him a nod.

“Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” Eddie winks, “and don’t kill each other!” He jokes, ignoring the weird looks he’s given from an older couple two booths away.

“Don’t worry, we’re not at that point anymore.”

You’re at a whole different point now, one that doesn’t make him angry, not exactly, just one that drives him up the wall.

Steve stares at your hips, at the way your shorts hug your body so nicely, the way your ass looks so good in them. He forces his eyes away, feeling a little startled when you turn around to face him before you open the door, a friendly smile appears on your face and he realizes that you aren’t looking at him, but at Eddie’s ‘dream girl’, waving goodbye at the girl before you step out.

He feels the sudden need to talk, hoping that you won’t tease him any further in the car, because if you do, he isn’t sure if he will manage to control himself the way he did, the whole time at the diner.

He rubs the back of his neck, walking down the steps, he clears his throat.

“Do you think he will manage to score a date?”

You slow down as you put your sunglasses on, “yeah, I’m pretty sure he will.”

Steve chuckles, nodding.

“She seems nice, and she’s pretty,” you say.

So are you. Steve thinks to himself.

“She’s got the kind of blonde hair you wanted when you ruined your hair with the blonde dye, huh?”

Steve can’t see your eyes behind your sunglasses, but he can see the amused look on your features as your lips curl into a smile.

He ignores the way it feels when you step closer to him, when your hand brushes against his knuckles, sending chills throughout his whole body.

“Actually, I wanted it even lighter, and how would I know that the pictures on the box dye were lies, it said it lightens up any hair color to that specific color!”

Steve laughs at you, “what color were you hoping for?”

You shrug, stepping away from him again when you walk around his car to the passenger side.

“I wanted like a Dolly Parton or uh… Heather Locklear kind of blonde.”

He unlocks the car and opens his door, raising his brows at you, “wow, you should have gone to a hair salon, Blondie.”

You lift your sunglasses, rolling your eyes at him, “it was a spontaneous decision, I thought I could handle that myself, I’m definitely never touching hair dye again.”

“Just call me, next time,” he winks at you as he gets into the car, “I’m a pro at doing hair.”

You laugh at him as you get in as well, “didn’t know you were a hairdresser, Harrington.”

“They don’t call me ‘the hair’ for nothing.”

“Oh wow. I wouldn’t trust you with my hair, who knows what color you’d dye my hair to.”

“Maybe I’d get it to the Dolly Parton blonde that you wanted.”

“Yeah, right!” You scoff at him, “cause you’re such an expert!”

A smile tugs at his lips, it almost feels normal, sitting here in his car with you, talking like this, it almost distracts him enough from the strong tension between you both, from the pull that is dragging him towards you, more and more.

Despite the frustration that he feels from all your teasing, he cannot help but want to keep playing the little game.

The sun is shining brightly, pulling down the sun visor won’t be enough – how convenient it is that he keeps his sunglasses in the glove compartment. He could ask you to get them but instead, he moves closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs before he places his hand on your knee as he reaches forward so he can get his ray-ban’s.

Satisfaction rushes through him when he hears you sucking in a sharp breath.

But, his longing intensifies when he gets a whiff of your perfume and feels how soft your skin actually is.

He clearly never thinks things through, his little plans always backfire.

The want to wrap his hand around your thigh and keep it there is so strong… so goddamn strong, but he pulls away begrudgingly, holding back the smirk when he feels your eyes on him. He puts the sunglasses on, and finally starts the car.

Your silence surprises him, but he knows that it’s something that won’t stay for long.

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran starts playing and Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony, this is exactly what he feels like right now, hungry like a fucking wolf, hungry for you.

If you had been any other girl, he would’ve made a move on you, a long long time ago. He would have flirted more obviously, he would’ve taken your hand in his, he would’ve brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you.

But you’re not just any girl, you’re… you.

You love this little game, and no matter how flustered you get, no matter the looks you are giving him, he still struggles to read you, he still struggles to figure out whether you want what he wants or not.

He is waiting for a sign, but it’s almost like he’s blind to anything you give to him.

He holds the steering wheel tightly, keeping his other hand on the gearstick, dangerously close to your thigh. He keeps sneaking glances at you, at your soft skin, at the way you press your legs together, at the way your fingers play with the loose string on your shorts.

Steve’s face grows hot, his heart beating faster in his chest.

He almost feels relieved when your house comes into view, and he pulls up into your driveway.

“So… what are you doing today?” You ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt, “besides having a movie day by yourself.”

You turn your body towards him, not making any moves to get out of the car yet.

“Uh… I don’t know,” he lies, his cheeks glowing red.

He already knows what he’s gonna do the moment he walks through his front door.

You take your sunglasses off, biting your lip as your eyes move up and down his body, making him shift uncomfortably, yet again.

“Well, I’m going to lay out in the sun, in my new red bikini.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and he almost starts drooling at the images that start forming in his mind.

Images of you… half naked.

“We should have a pool party at some point,” you smile, blinking at him as you start inching closer to him, looking down at his lips.

“Uh huh…”

“But anyways, I should get going,” you sigh, catching him by surprise when you place your hand on his thigh, so dangerously close to where he needs you the most, “thanks for the ride, Stevie.”

And as though that wasn’t bad enough.

You almost cause his heart to stop beating, when your face is only inches away from him now, and you press your lips against his cheek, kissing him, completely shocking him, leaving him a stuttering mess.

He lost all ability to speak, all he can do is stare at you, as his skin tingles and his heart races.

You smirk at him, eying his red cheeks.

“Who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever blush for me,” you say smugly, before you pull away and get out of the car, giggles falling from your lips. Without another word, you close the door and walk away, looking over your shoulder one more time, still giggling.

Fuck.

His frustration turns into anger when the realization starts creeping in slowly.

The smug look on your face, the smirk and your stupid giggles prove his point, that you did all of this not because you wanted him, but because you wanted to win this fucking game.

That’s all it is, that’s all it ever was.

A game.

He doesn’t know what the feeling in his chest is, whether it’s the feeling of annoyance or rejection, but it only irritates him even further, especially when all he can think about is still you.

You in your stupid red bikini, lying under the sun, looking pretty and hot… looking like someone he can never have, not even for a single night.

He is angry, angry at himself for still wanting you, for needing you, for wishing that he could feel your bare body underneath him, for wishing to hear your moans, your voice calling out his name, your hands clinging to his body, fingers tugging at his hair.

Despite the rejection, he feels his stupid jeans getting tighter, his dick straining against the fabric, making him feel uncomfortable and so needy to a point that the moment he gets home, he rushes upstairs and into the bathroom.

He slams the door shut and presses his back against it, hastily unbuckling his belt, the clinking and his heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the room… for now. He pushes down his boxers and his pants, just enough so he can pull his dick out – his tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum, he spits into his hand before he wraps his hand around his aching cock.

That is all that it takes for a needy whimper to fall from his lips.

He closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the door as he starts jerking off slowly.

Images of you curse and bless his mind at the same time.

He wonders what it would be like to feel your hand around his dick or what it would be like to feel your lips on his neck, your whispers in his ear as you take care of him.

He furrows his brows, lips parting as his moans get louder and he begins to move his hand faster and faster, squeezing his eyes shut.

He pictures you on your knees for him, your hands replaced by your lips as he shuts you up with his cock in your mouth, silencing you once and for all, while tears stream down your cheeks.

“Oh fuck…” Steve whimpers, getting lost in pleasure.

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table when you started teasing him with the stupid whipped cream, but all he can think about now is you on your knees worshiping him.

His muscles tighten as he increases the tempo, using his thumb to rub the slit as he imagines it being the tip of your tongue as you look at him with big and teary eyes.

And he doesn’t know for how long he was imagining you like this, but it doesn’t matter because he is soon spilling in his hand, a loud groan escaping his lips as well as a shaky breath, the back of his head hitting the door as he tries to ease his breathing.

Maybe three minutes passed, or twenty, but it didn’t matter. His cum is already on his hand and in your honor.

But this didn’t satiate his hunger, nor his lust for you in the slightest.

Nothing that he could possibly do will.

He can imagine you and take care of himself all he wants, but it won’t change the way he wants you, the way he craves you.

He knows that there is only one way to get rid of this.

Tomorrow he will put his frustration away. That’s all it is, frustration. He just needs to let it out. He needs to fucking breathe again.

Yeah. Tomorrow.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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jennifer-jeong · 2 months

Text

[Fluff] [Genshin Men x Reader] What Made Them Fall For You?

Xiao, Wanderer/Scaramouche, Diluc

CONTENT

Headcanons on what makes the genshin pookies fall for you <3 Fluff, gender neutral reader, men falling for reader, reader is not traveler but is friends with them, mentions of character's trauma, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOUR NOTES

I hope to eventually write about all the men >:) it will probably take a while to get to it but I’ll try to keep each one short to encourage myself to finish them all hehe.

XIAO

I think Xiao would start to fall for you because you see through his tough, mean guy act. You can tell that even though his words are harsh and he’s telling you to leave him alone, he’s just protecting you. You might not see it at first, but as you understand his condition, his karmic debt, you understand him. Your realization makes you feel warm knowing that Xiao is really just an innocent soul who wanted to keep you safe. He wants so badly to never hurt anyone ever again and “repent” in solitude even though he has nothing to really repent for; he was forced to kill by his previous master and his karmic debt only comes from killing the remnants of old gods and absorbing their debt.

You start to hang around him more as a result and, much to Xiao’s dismay, he doesn’t hate it. In fact, he actually enjoys how you reignite the warmth in him, the warmth he hasn’t felt in so long since his fellow Yaksha have passed. But did he want to let you in? Shouldn’t he push you away? He’s been alone for so long, why change that now? He felt like he didn’t deserve to enjoy company again, that he didn’t deserve you and your kindness. But maybe just this time… just once, would he allow it.

WANDERER

I think Wanderer would start to fall for you because you make him feel human emotions like he’s never felt before. He’s always searched for a “heart” in the form of a gnosis, thinking it would make him human and make him feel loved and wanted. But even when he had it, it didn’t feel right. Even now, with his anemo vision, he feels more, but still not what he wants. But with you, it feels perfect. Others would probably describe what he feels as something like “butterflies in my stomach” but since he probably doesn’t really experience physical things like that, being a magical puppet and all, he thinks about how you make his vision glow. When he feels a surge of emotions, it feels like he’s using his vision. It feels powerful, happy, strong, and warm, like how a light breeze feels on a sunny afternoon.

You know about his past, what he did, and how the world wronged him. He’s been so traumatized and can barely comprehend his emotions. So when you reach out to him after he regains his memory and a new anemo vision, you try to help him through his emotions in the gentle way that you do. You’re so soft with him and it makes his vision heart ache. He believes he doesn’t deserve you but you try your best to show him otherwise. As you two get closer, you never really notice, but the wind always picks up just a little bit when he sees you.

DILUC

I think Diluc would start to fall for you because you don’t just see him as “the young and rich son of the Ragnvindr family estate.” You see him for him: Diluc. You see a beautiful soul with a broken heart that has put up walls that he intends to never break down again. Others might think that Diluc is just cold, but you and the others close to him know that no matter how cold he may seem, the pure fire that burns inside him always spreads its warmth to those around him. He’s believed for a while now that barely anyone can see what he’s hiding underneath, that people want him for his money, his property, his material things. But you prove him wrong time and time again. You sweetly say hi to him every time you see him not because you want to put on a facade to get on his good side. You don’t help him break up a fight at the tavern and clean up after because you want a monetary reward. You don’t bake him an adorable strawberry cake for his birthday because you want something back. No, you do it because you care, because you have so much love to give, and Diluc feels so lucky to be a part of your life.

He feels his feelings grow for you as time goes on. He feels you getting closer and he barely hesitates to let you in. You didn’t break down his walls, you politely made a door for yourself to enter and it makes you both laugh to think about it that way. He stays reserved around most others but always holds the door open for you, physically and metaphorically.

Thanks for reading!

Part 2 (will link whenever I finish it!!)

|| MASTERLIST <3 ||

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nightmarist · 6 months

Text

Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

#zevlor #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #act 1 spoilers #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #this man reeks of self loathing i want to bathe him in love and comfort #i also want him carnally #act 3 spoilers #bg3 meta

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stylesispunk · 2 months

Text

"Where is my love?"

Joel miller x f! reader

summary: Isn't she coming to me?

w.c: 7k>

warning: angst, mentions of death, and grief.

a/n: this is a sad one and closer to my heart because grieving is the love we can give to people who are gone. The only change of this is that has been ten years since the "end of the world" and is based on the last chapter of the show. reblogs and comments are always appreciated and for the love of god, can you please help me with inspo for writing, I want to write for other characters, so if you have any suggestions are welcome. Have a lovely reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika

masterlist

Your paths crossed a long time ago. When the world had descended into madness, the souls met the dead in a now forgotten land. He came across you, and he fell in love with you. The sunlight radiating after the freezing storm was a fire keeping his brittle heart warm.

You had saved him from ending his own life that day, when he had lost faith in a horror movie without an ending or a purpose. He did lose everything he had known—everything he had ever loved and protected—but he had met you.

For him, you were an angel, not delicate nor free from sins, but an angel who appeared after he thought he had met his spirit in heaven.

You have looked after him and Tommy for days, taking care of their well-being and taking care of the reminiscing scar plastered on Joel’s forehead as a reminder of his almost-death encounter with his angel, you.

And you had loved him ever since; you found yourself increasingly drawn to him, not just for his vulnerability under your eyes but because he had brought sense back to life. His presence seemed to chase away the shadows that had been going to hunt you since now.

As the days turned into weeks, months, and then years, the bond between you and Joel only grew stronger. You found yourself drawn to his strength, his resilience in the face of adversity, and the way he faced each day with unwavering determination.

You had loved him after acknowledging every terrible thing he had done, and you loved him anyway. The darkness inside of him, taunted by the loss of the previous time, didn’t prevent you from looking at him as if he hung the stars of the sky. You both looked at night before sleeping, trying to find some reassurance.

Together, you faced the challenges, from the first days of the end of the world to the QZ, to Ellie, to where you were right now, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

Now, here in Jackson, in the quiet moment before sleep, you and Joel would still gaze up at the stars, finding solace in the vastness of the night sky. And as you held each other close, you found reassurance in the knowledge that no matter what tomorrow brought, you would face it together.

Joel broke the silence, his voice soft yet filled with the weight of years gone by. "You know, I never thought I'd find this kind of peace again. Not after everything that's happened."

You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the darkness. "We've been through hell and back, Love. But somehow, we made it together."

He reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeking the comfort your touch brought to him. "I don't know what I would do without you," he admitted, his voice breaking a little.

"You don't have to find out," you replied, a gentle smile playing on your lips. "We're in this together, remember? No matter what."

Joel nodded, his gaze returning to the heavens above. "Yeah, together," he echoed, as if trying to convince himself of the truth of those words.

"You will never lose me,” you whispered, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his forehead. "And I'll always be here to guide you home."

He closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of your lips over his skin. "I love you," he murmured, the words carrying the weight of a lifetime of pain and longing.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you.

Being in Jackson brought you back to a civilization, to peace, to a place where you could both sleep next to each other at the same time without fearing other people coming for you.

But as much as you cherished the peace and stability that Jackson provided, you couldn't escape the reality of everyday life. With it came the mundane challenges, the petty conflicts, and the occasional tension that threatened to disrupt the tranquility you had found together. There were disagreements, misunderstandings, and moments of frustration that tested the strength of your relationship.

You felt a rush of joy as you entered the door of your Jackson home. You couldn't wait to tell Joel about the trade you had made, so you were looking forward to seeing his reaction.

"Joel," you called out, your voice full of anticipation as you approached the living room where he was sitting. "Guess what? "I made a trade today."

Joel looked up from his book, interest in his eyes. "A trade?" "What did you get?"

You smiled, holding out the little camera you'd traded for some extra food supplies. "I exchanged some of our extra coffee for this camera! It's in excellent condition, and I thought we might use it to save some memories."

As you proudly showed the camera, Joel's initial curiosity turned into an unhappy face. He set down his book and looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and stress.

"You traded all of our extra coffee for a camera?" Joel repeated, his voice filled with frustration. "We rely on that coffee, you understand. It's not simply an extravagance; it's a product in high demand here in Jackson."

You faltered, understanding the potential repercussions of your impulsive trade. "I know, Joel, but I thought..."

"You thought what?" Joel interjected, his irritation growing. "That a camera was more important than having enough food to get us through the winter? "What if something happens and we need that coffee?"

You bit your lip, feeling a sense of remorse rush over you. "I didn't think of it that way. I just thought it would be wonderful to have something to save our memories."

Joel sighed and ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I understand, but we must prioritize our needs before our wants. You cannot go out there and make bad decisions."

His words hurt, and you felt a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You didn't plan to compromise your safety, but in your excitement, you forgot to consider the repercussions of your actions.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you said quietly, feeling a sensation of shame rush over you. "I didn't mean to cause any harm."

Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being this childish," he murmured, strolling past you to the kitchen and leaving you in

Joel's gaze softened slightly as you apologized, but the tension in the air remained. "It's okay," he said softly. "Just stop being so childish," he replied, walking past you to the kitchen and leaving you in the living room with a bitter taste in your mouth.

A wave of guilt swept over you. You didn't mean to act impulsively or selfishly, but you now see that your actions had far-reaching implications.

Feeling the weight of Joel's disappointment, you remained in the living room, staring at the camera in your hands, your heart heavy. You realized he was correct; you needed to be more responsible and more aware of the circumstances and the actions that could affect your survival; being at peace in a place did not imply the risk had passed.

With a heavy sigh, you lay the camera down on the table, the excitement you had felt earlier replaced with a sense of regret. Joel's words lingered in your head, reminding you of the excitement you had felt earlier, replaced by a sense of remorse. Joel's words echoed in your mind, a reminder of the need to grow and learn from your mistakes.

You walked upstairs to your room, and with a heavy heart, you lay in bed, the events of the day on your mind. Despite the comfort of the blankets that surrounded you, you couldn't shake the sense of remorse and sorrow that persisted within you.

You closed your eyes and replayed the conversation with Joel in your head, each word stinging like a sharp reminder of your failure. You knew you'd let him down, and the thought gnawed at you, leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

And as you drifted off to sleep, the weight of Joel's disappointment gradually began to lighten. A few hours later, you awoke to the faint click of a camera shutter. Blinking sleepily, you opened your eyes to see Joel standing by the bedside, a tiny smile on his lips as he held the camera.

"What are you doing?" you said, your voice still laced with sleepiness.

Joel chuckled and lowered his camera as he neared the bed. "Just capturing a moment," he said, his eyes filled with adoration as he glanced down at you. In confusion, you furrowed your brow and sat up slightly in bed. "A moment of me sleeping?" you asked, feeling both amused and fascinated.

Joel nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yes, a second while you sleep. You looked beautiful; I couldn’t resist."

Despite the lingering anger from earlier, Joel's gesture made you feel warm. It was a modest act, but it showed a lot about his remorse and faith in your relationship. Reaching out, you took the camera from Joel's hands, studying the image of yourself sleeping soundly.

"I look horrible," you muttered. Joel softened his smile and leaned in to kiss your forehead. "Liar," he muttered. "Sorry for how I acted earlier." He moved forward, pressing his lips against your cheek this time.

"You're just an old, grumpy man," you remember, with a tiny giggle. His soft kisses eased the tension between you. His amusing response lightened the mood and lifted the sadness that had been in your heart.

"Old grumpy man, huh?" Joel chuckled, shaking his head in mock indignation. “I’ll show you what this old, grumpy man can do,” he said, planting a more urgent kiss on your lips this time.

You worked hard in the weeks following your fight with Joel to repair the distance that had grown between you. Despite the apparent signs of peacemaking, you still had a persistent sense of insecurity.

Then a new woman arrived in Jackson. She was closer to Joel's age, and you couldn't help but notice the easy connection that had developed between them. They spent a lot of time together, whether on patrol with Tommy or speaking in the common areas of Jackson.

You tried to ignore the jealousy that was bubbling up inside of you. After all, Joel had always been polite and accommodating to strangers, so there was no reason to suspect anything other than friendship between them.

But as the days went on and you saw Joel and the new woman form a stronger bond, your concern grew. You couldn't escape the nagging suspicion that there was something more between them—something that harmed the precious trust you'd worked so hard to build.

On today's evening, as you watched Joel and the woman laugh from across the room, you felt a pang of jealousy. You excused yourself and withdrew from the privacy of your thoughts since you could no longer contain your feelings.

You were alone in the living room, struggling with opposite emotions. Part of you felt ashamed for doubting Joel and allowing jealousy to cloud your thinking. But another part of you couldn't help but feel sad and insecure as if you weren't enough for him; after all, it wasn't just you, him, and Ellie outdoors any longer, and here in Jackson, you weren't the last woman in the world.

As you sat alone in the living room, buried in your thoughts, the sound of steps broke your state of trance. Looking up, you noticed Ellie enter the home, looking bright and cheerful, until she spotted your teary eyes.

"Hey, I missed you at dinner in the bar," Ellie said, concern etching her features as she approached you. "Is everything okay?"

You tried to brush off her concern with a forced smile, but Ellie wasn't fooled. "Yeah, everything's fine," you replied, your voice betraying the turmoil within you.

But Ellie wasn't about to let it go that easily. She moved closer, her gaze searching yours with intensity. "No, it's not. What happened? Why are you crying?"

Your heart ached at the concern in Ellie's eyes, and despite your best efforts to hold back the tears, they continued to fall. "I...I don't know," you admitted, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you. "I just...I don't know where Joel is."

Ellie's brow furrowed in confusion. "Joel? He's eating with Tommy and the new girl, why?"

You shook your head, unable to articulate the jumble of emotions swirling inside you. "I don't know," you repeated, feeling the tears threaten to overwhelm you once more. "I just...I need to talk to him."

Sensing the urgency in your voice, Ellie nodded in understanding. "Okay, let's go find him," she said, taking your hand and leading you out of the house.

As you followed Ellie towards the bar, your heart raced with fear and anticipation. You knew that whatever awaited you there, you couldn't continue to let your doubts and insecurities consume you.

Once inside the bar, you noticed Joel in the crowd, his gaze settling on yours with a warmth that shot an emotion through your chest. It was as if a magnetic force drew you closer together, despite any remaining doubts.

You moved across the crowded bar, Ellie's hand firmly clutched in yours, Joel's smile widening, and his gaze never leaving yours.

Finally reaching Joel's side, you felt a wave of relief sweep over you as he held you in his arms. The warmth of his hug swept away the residual frost of doubt, leaving you with an eager sense of calm and belonging.

"I missed you," Joel murmured, his voice soft as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned into Joel's embrace, reveling in the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

For a moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only you and Joel locked in a tender embrace. It was as if time itself had slowed to a halt, allowing you to savor the precious moments you shared together.

As Joel pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, you felt a rush of emotion swell within you, a profound gratitude for the love and support he had always shown you.

As the tender moment between you and Joel lingered, a voice interrupted, pulling you back to the present. "Hey, Joel!" called out a cheerful voice, and you turned to see a woman approaching, a bright smile on her face.

Joel turned to face the stranger, his arm still wrapped over you protectively. "Oh, hey Rachel," he said, a warm smile on his face. "This is my girlfriend," he added, introducing you. Then he turned his face to introduce the stranger to you. "This is Rachel, and she is new to Jackson."

You smiled politely at Rachel, but a tinge of dread came over you as you watched how she drew in closer to Joel, her hand casually resting on his free arm. You repressed a jealous pang and pushed yourself to keep a friendly demeanor, even though your heart squeezed with uncertainty.

"It's nice to meet you, Rachel," you said, your voice solid despite the tumult inside you.

Rachel returned the welcome with a warm grin, and her eyes flickered with intrigue as she glanced. between you and Joel. "Likewise," she replied, her tone friendly but tinged with a hint of flirtation.

As the night went on, you couldn't ignore the sense of unease that hung in the air. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, Rachel's lingering touches and seductive glances at Joel gnawed at your insides, stoking the jealousy that threatened to engulf you.

With each passing moment, it became more difficult to ignore Joel and Rachel's growing friendship. Their laughter and friendly banter got on your nerves, reminding you of the bond that they had.

You tried to ignore your misgivings and enjoy the evening with Joel, but insecurity weighed heavily on you. It felt like you were on the outside looking in, watching helplessly as Joel and Rachel got closer with each passing second.

Rachel's flirtations became more daring as the night progressed, her touches lingering a bit too long and her laughter provocative. Despite your best attempts to remain calm, the jealousy simmering beneath the surface threatened to explode.

You stole looks toward Joel, hoping to find reassurance in his eyes, but he seemed unaware of the impact Rachel's actions were having on you. It was as if she had enchanted him, consuming all of his attention.

You excused yourself from the table, unable to take the sight of Joel and Emily's flirtatious behavior any longer. You could understand, after all, that Joel was a handsome man who hadn't received this much attention since the world ended; yet, that didn't make it any less painful.

As you excused yourself from the table, a slew of feelings surged through you—pain, jealousy, and a deep sense of isolation. You longed for Joel's reassurance, his acknowledgment of the hurt that Rachel's behavior was causing you, but as you stole a glance at him, you saw only obliviousness in his gaze.

With a heavy heart, you moved away, your footsteps quietly echoing on the bar's hardwood floor. You felt Joel's stare on your back, but you couldn't force yourself to look into his eyes, scared of what you might find reflected there.

As you approached the edge of the room, you hesitated, your back facing Joel, struggling to find the perfect words. Finally, you spoke, hardly rising above a whisper. "I need some air," you remarked, your voice filled with anguish.

After a period of silence, you felt Joel's hand on your arm, warm and soothing. "Hey," he replied quietly, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"

You turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of longing and frustration. "I just...I need some time," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I'll be outside."

Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with understanding as he nodded in response. "I'll come find you," he promised, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand.

But instead, as you walked towards the house, the weight of the evening's events bearing down on you, you felt Joel's presence beside you. His steps were quiet, but his presence was comforting, a silent reassurance that you were not alone in your pain.

"Hey," Joel said softly, his voice breaking the silence between you. "I'm sorry about back there. I didn't realize... I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable."

You glanced sideways at Joel, the warmth of his gaze softening the edges of your frustration. "It's not your fault," you replied, your voice tinged with sadness. "I know you didn't mean to."

Joel fell into a step beside you, his hand reaching out to brush against yours. "I just want you to know that you're the only one for me," he said earnestly, his voice filled with sincerity. "No one else matters, not like you do."

“You could have told her about it,” you said, frustration edging into your tone.

Joel's expression faltered slightly at your words, a hint of defensiveness flickering in his eyes. "I didn't think it was necessary," he replied, his tone tinged with irritation. "I didn't want to embarrass her or make things awkward."

You felt a surge of frustration rising within you, the sting of jealousy and insecurity reigniting in your chest. "But by not saying anything, you made me feel like my feelings didn't matter," you countered, your voice tinged with hurt. "You made me doubt myself; doubt us."

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice strained. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just didn't know how to handle the situation."

The tension between you hung heavy in the air, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions pressing down on both of you. You wanted to believe Joel's assurances of love and devotion, but the lingering doubts and insecurities threatened to cloud your judgment.

"I need to rest," you said, changing the subject, your voice steady but tinged with sadness. "Tomorrow, we need to get up early for the patrol.”

“Actually, I’m not coming with you,” he said carefully.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll promise Rachel to...“

The air crackled with tension as Joel's words hung between you, his admission weighing heavily on your heart. Anger flared within you, fueled by hurt and betrayal.

"Why?" you demanded, your voice laced with frustration and disappointment. "Why would you choose her over me?

Joel's expression softened, and his eyes filled with regret. "I’m not choosing her over you; I would never do that," he replied, his voice tinged with guilt. "I didn't realize it would upset you."

You shook your head, unable to hide your frustration. "You should have talked to me about it first," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "You should have considered my feelings."

With a heavy heart, you turned away from Joel, the ache of disappointment echoing within you. As you retreated into the solitude of your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder if your relationship could withstand this latest test or if it was destined to crumble beneath the weight of unresolved conflicts and broken promises.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight!” you exclaimed as you kept walking.

The next morning dawned with a strong sense of tension in the air, the previous night's events still fresh in your mind. As you awoke from your sleep and began to prepare for the day ahead, the pain of disappointment and deceit chewed at your heart, casting a shadow on the early sun.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed aside any remaining doubts and concerns, determined to focus on the task at hand. As you approached the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a soothing reminder of Joel's presence.

You discovered him standing by the counter, holding a warm mug of coffee, and preparing a second cup for you. His expression was solemn.

His eyes were downcast, as if weighted down by the events of the night before.

"Morning, angel," he said, his voice tinged with regret, as he gave you the mug. "I made some coffee."

“Thank you, but I’m leaving,” you replied, shortly walking towards the door.

"Angel, wait," Joel called out, his voice pleading as he reached out to gently grasp your arm, halting your departure. His touch was warm against your skin, a silent plea for you to stay and hear him out.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to escape the tension that hung between you and the longing to resolve the issues that had driven a wedge between you and Joel. With a heavy sigh, you turned to face him, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

“Take care; you know your safety is the most important thing for me,” he reassured, meeting your sad gaze.

"What a shame you're not going to be there to protect me," you replied bitterly, unable to mask the hurt in your voice. The words spilled out before you could stop them, a reflection of the pain and frustration that churned within you.

Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with remorse as he reached out to gently cup your cheek.

Joel closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss filled with longing and remorse. It was a silent reassurance of his love and commitment, a promise to mend the wounds that had been inflicted upon your relationship.

As the kiss lingered, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. Despite the pain and hurt, you knew that Joel was sincere in his desire to make things right, and you were willing to give him another chance.

Pulling away, Joel met your gaze with a mixture of regret and determination. "We'll talk when you get back," he said softly, his voice filled with resolve. "I'll be here waiting for you, ready to make things right."

With a nod of agreement, you returned Joel's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of your shared commitment to each other.

As you and Tommy ventured out on patrol, the rhythm of your footsteps echoed against the deserted streets of Jackson. The tension that had weighed heavily on you began to ease slightly, replaced by a sense of purpose as you focused on the task at hand.

"So, what happened between you and Joel?" Tommy asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you. His voice was filled with concern, and his eyes were studying your expression carefully.

You sighed, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. "We had an argument," you admitted reluctantly, the words heavy on your tongue. "I just don't know how to trust him again."

Tommy nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I get it," he said softly. "But you have to remember, Joel cares about you more than anything. He'd do anything to protect you, even if he doesn't always show it the right way."

You mulled over Tommy's words, the weight of his reassurance providing some measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty that plagued you. Despite the doubts that lingered in your mind, you knew that, deep down, Joel's intentions were genuine and his love for you was unwavering.

"I know," you replied, a sense of resolve creeping into your voice. "I just need to figure things out."

Tommy placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze filled with empathy. "You will," he said confidently. "And when you do, Joel will be right there waiting for you, ready to make things right."

With a nod of gratitude, you continued on your patrol, the weight of uncertainty still heavy on your shoulders but with a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel grateful for Tommy's support and reassurance, knowing that with his guidance and the strength of your bond with Joel, you would find a way to navigate the challenges that lay ahead.

“Of course, you will say nice things about your stupid brother,” you joked.

Tommy chuckled at your jest, the sound carrying through the quiet streets as you continued on your patrol. "Hey, he may be stubborn and thick-headed sometimes, but Joel's got a good heart," he said with a grin. "And he cares about you more than anything."

You couldn't help but smile at Tommy's words, grateful for his unwavering support and his ability to see the best in Joel, even in the midst of conflict. "Thanks, Tommy," you said sincerely, the weight of uncertainty lifting ever so slightly from your shoulders. "I appreciate it."

Tommy nodded in response, his expression filled with understanding. "Anytime," he replied, his voice laced with warmth. "We're family, after all. And family sticks together, no matter what."

As you and Tommy continued your patrol around Jackson, everything was eerily quiet, with the only sound being the subtle crunch of gravel beneath your feet. The weight of insecurity lingered in the air, but you pressed on, determined to do your job and safeguard your town.

A group of people appeared from the shadows unexpectedly, their faces hidden by the night's darkness. Your heart jumped into your throat as you understood the danger that was immediately surrounding you.

You weren't a weak person; in fact, people considered you a powerful fighter, always merciless when it was required and determined to save the ones you cared about, so your instincts kicked in and your senses heightened as adrenaline flowed through veins. Despite the suddenness of the attack, you maintained your composure, guided by your training and expertise.

Until one of them grabbed you and pinned you down, your heart raced with a mix of fear and determination. You struggled against their hold, every muscle in your body tensing as you fought to break free. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, the grip of your assailant remained firm, their strength overpowering.

With a surge of desperation, you summoned all your strength and training, channeling it into a fierce struggle to break free. Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, of finding a way to overcome this unexpected obstacle and emerge victorious.

Beside you, Tommy fought valiantly against the other attackers, his determination matching your own as he defended against the onslaught. Though outnumbered and caught off guard, you refused to give in, clinging to the hope that help would soon arrive.

“So, you’re Joel’s Miller girl,” a feminine voice said.

The voice cut through the chaos, freezing you momentarily as you tried to recognize the mocking tone. Despite the tense situation, a surge of anger flared within you at the mention of Joel's name. You refused to let fear or intimidation weaken your resolve.

With renewed determination, you continued to struggle against your assailant's hold, your mind racing with thoughts of escape and survival. Every fiber of your being was focused on breaking free and finding a way to overcome this threat and protect yourself and Tommy.

“Tommy!” you exclaimed, worry creeping up with you.

“I’m fine!” he reassured back.

“What do you want?” You asked the girl, who is now in front of you.

The girl smirked, her eyes filled with venom as she peered down at you, pinned under her. "What do I want?" she said, her voice full of scorn. "I'd like to send a message to your dear Joel. I want him to understand that no one is safe, including his girl."

Her statements enraged your fury, but you kept calm, refusing to show any signs of weakness in the face of her remarks. "And what message would that be?" you asked, your voice steady despite what was occurring.

As she drew in closer, the girl's smirk deepened, and her eyes took on a malicious glitter. "The message is simple," she stated, her voice low and frightening. "I will take away what he loves.

the most from him, as he did with me.”

“What?” but before you could even realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain through your abdomen.

The sharp pain ripped through your abdomen, stealing the breath from your lungs as you gasped in shock. A guttural cry of agony escaped your lips as you felt blood seeping from the wound, staining your clothes crimson.

The girl's cruel laughter echoed in your ears as she withdrew the weapon, a twisted smirk of satisfaction twisting her features. "That's the message," she said coldly, her voice dripping with malice.

You didn’t want to die here without seeing the smiles of the people you loved.

Your vision blurred as waves of pain washed over you, threatening to drag you into unconsciousness. Through the haze of agony, you fought to stay conscious, your thoughts consumed by a desperate need to survive, to make it back to Joel, to warn him of the danger that now threatened you both.

“Hey, stay with me. I’m taking you to Jackson,” Tommy said desperately, but his voice was just an echo at this time.

The world seemed to spin around you as you fought to hold onto consciousness, Tommy's voice barely registering amidst the haze of pain and confusion. Every fiber of your being screamed in agony, but you refused to succumb to the darkness that threatened to consume you.

With a herculean effort, you summoned whatever strength remained within you, clinging to Tommy's words like a lifeline. Through sheer force of will, you forced your eyes to focus, locking onto Tommy's determined gaze as he lifted you into his arms.

The journey back to Jackson was a blur of agony and desperation, with each step sending waves of pain coursing through your battered body. But with every labored breath, you clung to the hope that burned within you—a determination to survive and protect those you loved.

As the walls of Jackson loomed into view, relief flooded through you, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness. With Tommy's unwavering support, you stumbled towards safety, with the promise of medical aid and the comfort of Joel's embrace urging you forward.

As you were carried through the gates of Jackson, the weight of exhaustion and pain threatened to overwhelm you.

Tommy stepped into Jackson's doors, crying out for help as you lay practically still in his arms. The wound in your stomach was major, and he couldn't shake the thought that you would die as a result of his inability to protect you.

As Tommy stormed through the doors of Jackson, his voice buzzing with desperation, terror spread throughout the neighborhoods. People turned their heads, concerned expressions on their faces, as they saw you almost unresponsive in his arms, crimson blood covering the clothes you were wearing.

A crowd swiftly gathered around Tommy, their alarming murmuring filling the air. Tommy ignored them, focusing entirely on getting you the help you so desperately needed.

As Tommy went towards the improvised infirmary, frantic yells sounded out, requesting the medical attention they had here. His steps were heavy with guilt, and each instant seemed to last forever as he feared the worst.

Finally, the infirmary doors swung open, and a team of medics led by Jackson hurried forward to take you from Tommy's arms. They worked fast and effectively, their expressions serious as they assessed the seriousness of your injury.

Tommy stood back, his hands quivering with terror and remorse, as he saw the doctor rush into action. He couldn't shake the notion that your condition was a result of his failing to safeguard you from harm.

Joel's heart was tight with fear when he saw a commotion near the infirmary. Without hesitation, he raced towards the crowd, his instincts screaming for him to get to you as soon as possible.

Joel's heart raced in his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd, finally arriving at the infirmary entrance. He saw you, pale and frail, in the arms of the doctors, your life hanging in limbo.

Joel moved forward without hesitation, arms outstretched, reaching for you. "No," he murmured hoarsely, terror and desperation evident in his tone. "Please, don't let her die."

The medics stepped aside, allowing Joel to take you into his arms. As he held you close, he could feel the warmth of your body against his, but it was too still, too fragile. Tears welled in his eyes as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, silently praying for your recovery.

“Hey, angel,” he murmured, finding strength in his voice. “Open those beautiful eyes of yours for me, baby, okay? Please, do it!” He continued sobbing as he caressed your hair. “I can lose everything, but not you... Oh god, not you, please?”

Joel kept holding you in his arms, preventing you from going away from him, and you could feel his touch, his care, and his voice pleading with you to stay with him. You wanted that, you wanted so bad, but the strength was dying inside you, and everything you ever knew went black.

You became a lifeless frame in the arms of your biggest love. When you stopped breathing, Joel’s heart stopped beating because, as if it was glass, it shattered.

The look of the doctor and the face of Tommy told them the truth he didn’t want to acknowledge, confirming the unthinkable: you were gone. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as Joel's world shattered around him. He clung to your lifeless form, his body racked with sobs as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of his loss.

"No, no, please," Joel choked out, his voice breaking with grief as he held you close, unwilling to accept the truth of what had just happened. Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, his sobs echoing in the silence of the infirmary.

For a moment, time stood still as Joel clung to you, unwilling to let go and unwilling to accept that you were gone. The world around him blurred, and the pain in his heart was too overwhelming to bear.

But as the reality of your loss settled over him, Joel's grief turned to rage, a primal, consuming fury that burned through him like wildfire. With a guttural cry of anguish, he cradled you in his arms, his body trembling with the force of his emotions.

In that moment, Joel felt as if his world had come crashing down around him, leaving nothing but darkness and despair in its wake. He had lost everything—the love of his life, his reason for living, his angel.

And as he held you close, his heart shattered into a million pieces, each one a painful reminder of the love he had lost and the life that had been snuffed out too soon. For Joel, the world had ceased to exist, consumed by the gaping void left in the wake of your passing.

He was never going to kiss you again; he was never going to hold you close at night or wake up to your smile in the morning. The future he had imagined, filled with laughter and love, now lay shattered at his feet.

A few hours later, Joel woke up in your shared bed, and you were sleeping next to him.

Joel's hand extended out to touch you, and a sense of warmth and comfort came over him. For a little while, he felt the smoothness of your skin beneath his fingertips and the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed peacefully beside him.

But then reality slammed back in like a tidal wave, yanking him from his comfortable state of sleep. His hand gripped the empty air, his fingers wrapping around nothing but chilly emptiness.

Joel's eyes opened abruptly, and he found himself lying in the dimly lit space, alone in the bed that had previously accommodated both of you. The ache in his chest returned with vengeance, a searing pang of anguish piercing his heart as he realized you were no longer alongside him.

Joel let out a deep sigh as he ran his hand through his hair, the memories of the dream still fresh in his mind. It felt so genuine and so vivid that, for a brief minute, he believed you were still alive and with him.

You were gone, taken from him in a cruel twist of fate, and no amount of dreaming could bring you back to him.

It's been a week, and he didn't attend your funeral because he was unable to accept that you were no longer alive.

Until today, when he stepped out of the house, which was surrounded by the flowers that some members of the community had left for you, and walked to your graveyard.

As Joel approached your graveyard, he felt an enormous burden settle over him—the weight of grief and loss that had been his constant companion in the days since your death. The walk appeared longer than it had ever been, with each step weighed down by the weight of his grief.

As he reached the grave, Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of the newly turned earth and the plain headstone traced your name as if it were your face. Joel's heart tightened with agony and need. The sight of freshly churned ground, with a simple monument marking your final resting place, acted as a sharp reminder of your absence.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you; I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he laid a bouquet of flowers at the foot of the headstone, each bloom a silent tribute to the love and loss he felt in his heart. The scent of the flowers mingled with the earthy aroma of the graveyard, a poignant reminder of the fleeting beauty of life and the inevitability of death.

Joel's voice quivered as he spoke, every word heavy with the weight of his despair and sorrow. He kneeled near the grave, his hand resting on the cool surface of the headstone, seeking comfort in the memory of your love.

"I want you to know that it was never me who protected you, but you who protected me," Joel said quietly, his words barely audible above the delicate murmur of the wind through the trees. "You were always the one who gave me strength, who showed me what it meant to love and to be loved."

As Joel spoke, tears streamed down his cheeks, revealing his real and unadulterated grief. At that time, surrounded by the serene tranquility of the graveyard, he felt profound loss, a yawning void that could never be filled.

"But now you're gone," Joel added, his voice breaking with sadness. "And I do not know how to go on without you."

Joel rose to his feet after one final long glance at the headstone, a sensation of purpose coming over him. He may have lost you, but he promised to always carry your love with him, to respect your memory in all he did, and to find a way to move forward, even in the face of his greatest pain.

You were always in every star shining above, in the sky.

He was back in the dimly lit room, with the weight of the grief still over his shoulders, and with trembling hands, he reached for the small camera you had traded, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of the device.

As he turned it on, the screen flickered to life, illuminating the darkness with a soft glow. And there, displayed before him, was the image he had captured of your sleeping, your peaceful expression a bittersweet reminder of how simply you could make him happy.

With a heavy heart, Joel reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the patterns of your face on the screen. It was as if he could feel your presence beside him.

Tears welled in Joel's eyes as he lingered on the image, his heart aching with longing for the touch he could no longer feel. But in that moment, surrounded by memories of you, he found a glimmer of solace, a reminder that though you were gone, your love would always remain.

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felikatze · 5 months

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ISAT and Ludonarrative Harmony: Combat is a Storytelling Tool

Or: How Siffrin is stuck in the endgame grind, forever

Please Note: This is primarily aimed at an audience that already played In Stars and Time, because I am bad at explaining things, and it's good to already know what the fuck I'm talking about. I tend to only bring up game elements as I want to talk about them.

Spoilers for.... all of ISAT! Especially Act 5!

(image to show how i feel posting this and as an attention grabber over my wall of text)

To pull a definition of ludonarrative harmony out of a hat, game writer Lauryn Ash defines it as follows:

Ludonarrative harmony is when gameplay and story work together to create a meaningful and immersive experience. From a design implementation perspective, it is the synchronized interactions between in-game actions (mechanics) and in-world context (story).

It is, generally speaking, how well game mechanics work hand in hand with the story. I, personally, think ISAT is an absolute masterclass of it, so I want to take a look at how ISAT specifically uses its battle system to emphasize Siffrin's character arc and create organic story moments. I want you to keep this in mind when I talk here.

So, skills, right? If you've played any turn-based RPG, you know your Fire spells, your "BACKSLASH! AIRSLASH! BACKSLASH!" and the many ways to style those.

Well, what does casting "Fire" say about your character? Not all that much, does it? Perhaps you'll have typical divisions. The smart one is the mage, the big brawny one is your tank, the petite one's the healer. And that's the barebones of ISAT's main party, but it's much more than that.

Every character's style of combat tells you something about them. Odile, the Researcher, is the most well-travelled and knowledgable of the bunch. She's the one with the expertise to keep a cool head and analyze the enemy, yet also able to use all three of the Rock-Paper-Scissors craft types.

To reflect her analytical view of things, all her skill names are just descriptive, the closest to your most bog-standard RPG. "Slow IV" or "Paper III" serve well to describe their purpose. The high number of the skills gives the impression there were three other Slow skills beforehand - fitting, considering the party starts at level 45, about to head into the final dungeon. She's also the oldest, so she's the slowest of the bunch.

Isabea, the Fighter, has all his skills in exclamation points. "YOUR TURN!!!" "SO WEAK!!!" "SMASH!!!" they're straightforward, but excited. He's a purposefully cheerfull guy, so his skills revolve around cheering on his allies. He's absolutely pumped to be here, and you see that from his skill names alone.

Mirabelle, the Housemaiden, is an interesting case. She's by all means the true protagonist of this tale - She's the one "Chosen by the Change God," the only one who survived the King's first attack, the only one immune to his ability to freeze time, the only dual-craft type of the game - just a lot of things. And her skill names reflect that facade she puts on herself - she can do this, she can win! She has to believe it, or else she starts doubting. This is how you get "Jolly Round Rondo" and "Mega Sparkle Heal" or "Adorable Moving Cure." She's styled every bit a sailor scout shojo heroine, and her moveset replicates the naming conventions of "In the name of the moon, I'll punish you!"

Even Bonnie, the Kid, who can't be controlled in combat, has named craft skills. And they very much reflect that Bonnie is, well, a kid. "Wolf Speed Technique" or "Thousand Blows Technique" are very much the phrasings of a child who learned one complicated word and now wants to use it in everything to seem cooler than they are, which is none, because they're twelve.

Siffrin's skills are all puns.

You have an IMMEDIATE feel for personality here. Between "Knife to Meet You!" and "Too Cleaver by Half," you know Siffrin's the type to always crack a joke no matter the situation, slinging witticisms around to put Sonic the Hedgehog to shame. It's just such a clever way to establish character using a game mechanic as old as the entire history of RPGs.

This is only the baseline of the way the combat system feeds into the story, though.

The timeloop, of course, feeds into it. Siffrin is the only character who retains experience upon looping, whereas all other characters are reset to their base level and skills. And it sucks (affectionate).

You're extremely likely to battle more often the earlier in the game you are - after all, you need the experience (for now.) Every party member contributes, and Siffrin isn't all that strong on their own, since they focus on raw scissor type damage with the addition of one speed buff. (Of course it's a speed buff. They're a speedy fucker. Just look at him).

At first, the difference in level between Siffrin and the rest of the group is rather negligible. Just a level or two. Just a bit more speed and attack. And then Siffrin grows further and further apart. Siffrin keeps learning new skills. He gets a healing skill that doubles as an attack boost, taking away from both Mirabelle's and Isabeau's usefullness. He gets Craft skills of every type that even give you two jackpot points instead of one - thus obliterating Odile's niche. Siffrin turns into a one-person army capable of clearing most encounters all on their own.

Siffrin's combat progression is an exact mirror of story progression - as their experience inside the loops grows, they also grow further and further away from their party. The party seems... weaker, slower, clumsier. Always back at their starting point, just as all of their character arcs are reset each loop. Never advancing, always stagnant. And you have Siffrin as the comparison post right next to them.

I also want to point out here a change from Act 2 to Act 3 - Siffrin's battle portrait. He stops smiling.

Battles keep getting easier. This is true both for the reason that Siffrin keeps growing stronger even when all enemies stay the same, but also for the reason that you, the player, learn more about the battle system and the various encounters, until you've learned perfect boss clear strategies just from repetition. Have you ever watched a speedrunner play Pokemon? They've played this game so many times, they could do it blindfolded and sleeping. Your own knowledge and Siffrin's new strength work in tandem to trivialize the game's entire combat system as the game progresses.

(Is it still fun? Playing it over, and over, and over again? Is it?)

You and Siffrin are in sync, your experience making everything trivial.

As time goes on, Siffrin grows to care less and less about performing right for their party and more and more about going fast. A huge moment in his character is marked by the end of Act 3; because of story events I won't delve too deeply into, Siffrin has grown afraid of trying something new. And his options of escape are closing in. They need an answer, and they need it fast. He doesn't have the time or patience to dumb himself down, so you unlock one new skill.

It doesn't occur with level up, or with a quest, or anything at all. At the start of Act 4, it simply appears in Siffrin's Craft skills.

(Just attack.)

No pun. No joke. Just attack. Once you notice, the effect is immediate - here you have it, a clear sign of how jaded Siffrin has become, right at every encounter. And it's a damn good attack, too! The only available attack in the game that deals "massive" damage against all enemies. Because it doesn't add any jackpot points (at least, it's not supposed to), you set up a combo with everybody else, but Siffrin simply tears away at the enemy with wild abandon. Seperated from the rest of the party by the virtue of no longer needing to contribute to team attacks (most of the time. It's still useful if they do, though).

Once again, an aspect of the battle system enhances the degree of separation between Siffrin and the static characters of his play. You're incentivized to separate him, even.

Additionally, there are two more skills to learn. They're the only skills that replace previous skills. You only get them at extremely high levels, the latter of which I didn't even reach on both of my playthroughs.

The first, somewhere in the level 70 range, Rose Printed Glasses, a paper type craft skill, is replaced by Tear You Apart. It's still a pun about paper, but remarkedly more vicious.

The second is even more on the nose. At level 80, In A While, Rockodile!, a rock type craft skill, is replaced by the more powerful Rock Bottom.

I didn't get to level 80. If you do, you pretty much have to do it on purpose. You have to keep going much longer than necessary, as Siffrin is just done. And the last skill he learns is literally called Rock Bottom.

What do I even need to say, really.

Your party doesn't stay static forever, though.

By doing their hangout quests, side quests throughout the loops that result in Siffrin and the character having a heart to heart, all of them unlock what I'd call an "ultimate" skill. You know the type - the character achieved self-fulfillment, hit rank 10 on their confidant, maxed out their skill tree, and received a reward for their trouble.

These skills are massively useful. My favorite is Odile's - it makes one enemy weak to all Craft types for several turns, which basically allows you to invalidate the first and third boss, as well as just clown on the King, especially once Siffrin starts racking up damage.

But the thing is. In Act 3, when you first get them, yeah, they're useful. But... do you need them? After all, they're such a hassle to get. You need to do the whole character quest again, you can't loop forward in the House or you'll lose them. If you want to take these skills to the King, you need to commit. Go the full nine-yards and be nice to your friends and not die and not skip forward or skip back. Which is annoying, right?

Well, I sure did think so during Act 4. After all, a base level party can still defeat the King, just with a few more tricky pieces involved. Siffrin can oneshot almost all basic enemies by the time of Act 4. It's this exact evalutation that you, the player, go through everytime you return to Dormont. Do I want this skill, still? Would it not be faster to go on without it? I'm repeating myself, but that's the thing! That's what Siffrin is thinking, too!

I also want to take a quick moment to note, here - all skills gained from hangouts have art associated with them, which no other skills do. This feature, the nifty art, hammers home these as "special" skills, besides just how they're unlocked.

Siffrin also has one skill with associated art.

Yeah, you guessed it, it's (Just attack.)

At first, helping the characters is tied to a hefty in-game reward, but that reward loses its value, and in return devalues helping Siffrin's friends every loop. It's too tedious for a skill that'll make a boss go by one turn faster. You, the player, grow jaded with the battle system. Grinding experience isn't worth it, everybody's highest levels are already recorded. Fighting bosses isn't worth it, it's much faster to loop forward.

Isn't this what all endgame in video games looks like? You already beat the final boss, and now... what challenge is left? Is there a point to keep playing? Most games will have some post-game content. A superboss to test your skills against, but ISAT doesn't have any of that. You're forever left chasing to the post-game. That's the whole point - to escape the game.

As most games get more difficult as time passes, ISAT only gets easier. The game becomes disinterested in expanding its own mechanics just as I ran out of new things to fight after 100%-ing Kingdom Hearts 3. Every encounter becomes a simple game of "press button to win."

The final boss just takes that one up a notch.

Spoilers for Act 5 ahead boys!

In Act 5, Siffrin utterly loses it. His last possible hope for escape failed him, told him there's nothing she can do, and Siffrin is trapped for eternity. So of course, they go insane and run up the entire House without their party.

This just proves what you already knew - you dont need the party to proceed. Siffrin alone is strong enough. And here, Siffrin has entirely shed the facade of the jokester they used to be. Every single skill now follows the (Just attack.) naming conventions. Your skills are: (Paper.) (Rock.) (Scissors.) (Breathe.)

To the point. Not a moment wasted, because Siffrin can't take a moment longer of any of this. Additionally, his level is set to 99 and his equipment becomes fixed. You can't even pick up items anymore! Not that you needed them at this point anyway, right? Honestly, I never used any items besides the Salty Broth since Act 2, so I stopped picking items up a long time ago. Now you just literally can't.

Something I've not talked about until now - one of the main equipment types in this game are Memories, gained for completing subquests or specific interactions and events. They all by and large have little effects - make Odile's tonics heal more, or have Mirabelle cast a shield at the start of combat. For the hangout events, you also gain an associated memory that boosts the characters' stats by 30. It lets them keep up with Siffrin again! A fresh wind! Finally, your party members feel on par with you again!

...For a time. And just like that, they're irrelevant again, just as helping them gave Siffrin a brief moment of hope that the power of friendship could fix everything.

In Act 5, your memory is set to "Memory of Emptiness." It allows you to loop back in the middle of combat. You literally can't die anymore. Not that Siffrin could've died by this point in the first place, unless you forgot about the King's instant-kill attack. This one memory takes away the false pretense that combat ever had any stakes. Siffrin's level being set to 99 means even the scant exp you get is completely wasted on them. All stakes and benefits from combat have been removed. It has become utterly pointless.

Frustrating, right? It's an artistic frustration, though. It traps you right here in Siffrin's shoes, because he hates that all these blinding Sadnesses are still walking around just as much. It all inspires just a tiny fraction of that deep rolling anger Siffrin experiences here in the player.

And listen, it was cathartic, that one time Siffrin snapped and stabbed the tutorial Sadness, wasn't it? Because who enjoys sitting through the tutorial that often? Siffrin doesn't. I don't, either.

So, since combat is an useless obstacle now meant to inspire frustration, what do you do for a boss? You can't well make it a gameplay challenge now, no. The bosses of Act 5 are an emotional challenge: a painful wait.

First, Siffrin fights the King, alone. This is already nervewracking because of one factor - in every other run, you need Mirabelle's shield skill, or else you're scripted to die. You're actually forced to fight the King multiple times in Act 3, and have to do it at least once in Act 4, though you'll likely do it more. Point is: you know how this fight works.

You know Siffrin's fight is doomed from the outset, but all you can do is keep slinging attacks. Siffrin is enough of a powerhouse to take the King's HP down, what with the healing and buff skills they have now, not to even mention you can just go all in on damage and then loop back.

(And no matter which way you play it, whether you just loop or use strategically, it reflects on Siffrin, too. Has he grown callous enough not even death will stop their mission? Or does he still avoid pain, as much as he can?)

This fight still allows you the artifice of even that much choice, not that it matters. The other shoe drops eventually - Siffrin becomes slower, and slower. Unsettling, considering this game works on an Action Gauge system. You barely get turns anymore. The screen gets darker, and darker. Until Siffrin is frozen in time, just as you knew he had to be, because you know how this encounter works, know it can't be cleared without Mirabelle.

And, then, a void.

Siffrin awakens to nothingness. The only way to tell you've hit a wall is if Siffrin has no walking animation to match your button inputs. You walk, and walk, until you're approached by.... you. The next enemy encounter of the game, and Siffrin's absolute lowest point: Mal Du Pays.

Or, "Homesickness," in english. If you know the game, you know why it's named this, but that's not the point at the moment.

Thing is, where you could damage the King and are damaged in turn, giving you at least a proper combat experience, even if its doomed to fail, Mal Du Pays has no such thing.

You can attack. You can defend. But it is immune to all attacks. And in return, it does nothing. It's common, at least, for undefeatable enemies to be a "survive" challenge, but nope. The entire fight is "press button and wait." Except, remember the previous fight against the King? The entire time, you were waiting for the big instant death attack to drop. That feeling, at least for me, carried forward. I was incredibly on edge just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And, as is a pattern, Siffrin is, too. As Siffrin's attacks fail to connect, they start talking to Mal Du Pays.

But he gets no response, as you get no attacks to strategize around. The wait for anything to happen is utterly agonizing. You and Siffrin are both waiting for something to happen. This isn't a fight. It just pretends to be. It's an utter rugpull, because Siffrin was so undefeatable for most of Act 4 and all of Act 5 so far. It's kind of terrifying!

and it does. It finally does something. Ma Du Pays speaks, in the voice of Siffrin's friends, listing out their deepest fears. I think it's honestly fantastic. You're forced to just sit here and listen to Siffrin's deepest doubts, things you know the characters could not say because it references the timeloops they're all utterly unaware of. This is all Siffrin, talking to himself. And all you, all Siffrin, can do, is keep wailing away on the enemy to no effect whatsoever.

So of course this ends with Siffrin giving up. What else can you do?

And then Siffrin's friends show up and unfreeze them and it's all very cool yay. The pure narrative scenes aren't really the main focus but I want to point out here:

A) Mirabelle is in the first party slot here, referencing how she's the de facto protagonist, and Bonnie fills in the fourth slot left empty, which shows all characters uniting to save Siffrin

B) this is the only instance of the other party members having act specific battle icons: they're all smiling brightly, further pushed by the upbeat music

C) the reflecting shield Mirabelle uses to freeze the King uses a variation of her hangout skill cut in, marking it as her true "final" skill and giving the whole fight a more climatic feeling.

It's also a short gameplay sequence with Siffrin utterly uninvolved in the battle. You can't even see them onscreen. But... it feels warm, doesn't it? Everybody coming together. Siffrin doesn't have to fight anymore.

At last, the King is defeated. Siffrin and co. make for the Head Housemaiden, to have her look at Siffrin's sudden illness. Siffrin is utterly exhausted, famished, running a fever. And this isn't unexpected - after all, their skills in Act 5 had no cooldown. For context, instead of featuring any sort of MP system, all skills work on a cooldown basis, where a character can't use it for a certain number of turns. The lowest cooldown is actually Siffrin's Knife to Meet You, which has a cooldown of 1. In universe, this is reasoned as the characters needing a break from spamming craft in order to not exhaust themselves.

Siffrin's skills in Act 5 having no cooldown/being infinitely spammable isn't a sign of their strength - it's a sign that he refuses to let himself rest in order to rush through as fast as possible.

Moving on, Siffrin panics when seeing the Head Housemaiden, because seeing her means one thing: the end. Prior to this in the game, every single time you beat the King, the loop ends when you talk to the Head Housemaiden.

Reality breaks down, the whole shebang. It's here that Siffrin realizes - they don't want the loops to end, because the end of their journey means their family will leave, and he'll be alone again. The happiest time of his life will be over.

Siffrin goes totally ballistic, to say the least.

As it turns out (and was heavily foreshadowed narratively), Siffrin has been using Wish Craft to subconciously cause the timeloop because of their abandonment issues. It's rather predictable if you paid attention to literally anything, but it's extremely notable how heavily Siffrin is paralleled to the King, the antagonist they swore to kill by themself at the start of Act 5. The King wants to freeze Vaugarde in time because it is, in his mind, "perfect," for accepting him after he lost his home - a backstory he shares with Siffrin.

Siffrin has become the exact antagonist he swore to kill, and it's shown by how the next fight utterly flips everything on its head.

Siffrin is the final boss.

In a towering form made of stars, Siffrin looks down at their friends. His face is terrified, because of his internal conflict; he can't hurt his friends, but he can't let them go, either. The combat prompt is simply changed to "END IT!"

This fight is similar to the previous, in that you just need to wait a certain number of turns until its over. However, this time, it's not dreadful suspense. It's... confusion, and hesitance.

You have two options for combat: Attack your friends, or attack yourself.

And... you don't really want to do either, I think. I certainly don't. But what else can you do? It's Siffrin's desires clashing in full force. Attack your friends, and force them to stay? Or attack yourself, and let them go safely without you?

Worth noting, here - when you attack Siffrin's friends, you can't harm them. Isabeau will shield all attacks. And when you attack yourself, Mirabelle will heal you back to full. And the friends don't... do anything, either. How could they? Occasionally, Mirabelle heals you and Isabeau shouts words of motivation, but the main thing is...

(Your friends don't know what to do.)

None of them want to harm Siffrin. Both sides simply stare at each other, resolute in their conviction but unwilling to end it with violence. It's of note that this loop, the last one, is the only loop where the King isn't killed. Just frozen. And now here is Siffrin, clamoring for the same eternity the King was. Of course everything ends in a tearfilled conversation as Siffrin sees their friends won't leave him, even after the journey ends, but I still have to appreciate this moment.

Siffrin is directly put in the position with their friends as his enemies, forced to physically reckon that keeping them in this loop is an act of violence, against both their friends, and against himself.

It's a happy ending. But... what does it mean?

Of course, ISAT is obviously about the fear of change. Siffrin is afraid of the journey ending, and of being alone. However, ISAT is also a game about games. Siffrin is playing the same game, over and over, because it's comforting. It's familiar. It's nice, to know exactly what happens next. These characters might just be predictable lines of dialogue, but... they feel like friends. Have you ever played a game, loved it, put countless hours into it, but you never finished it? Because you just couldn't bear to see it end? For the characters to leave your life, for there to be a void in your heart where the game used to be?

After all, maybe it became part of your routine! You play the game every day, slowly chipping away at it for weeks at a time. For me, I beat ISAT in four days. It utterly consumed me during this time. I had 36 hours of playtime by the end. Yeah, in that week, I did not do much more than play ISAT.

And once i beat it, i beat it, again. I restarted the game to see the few scenes I missed, most specifically the secret boss I won't talk about here. I... couldn't let go of the game yet. I wanted to see every scrap I could. I still do. I'm writing this, in part because I still do. It's scary to let go.

Ever heard the joke term of "Postgame Depression?" It's when you just beat a game, and you're suddenly sad. Maybe because the ending affected you emotionally and you need to process the feelings it invoked, or you search for something that can now fill your time with it gone.

The game ends, for real this time, the last time you talk to the Head Housemaiden. But Siffrin gets... scared. What if everything loops back again? And so, his family offers to hold his hand. They face the end, together.

For all loops, including the ending, you never see what happens after. After they leave the loop for good. Because the loop is the game itself. It's asking you to trust that life goes on for these characters, and it holds your hand as it asks you to let go. There's a reason for Siffrin's theater metaphors. He is the actor, and the director, asking everyone to do it over one more time. He's a character within the game, and its player.

There's a reason I talked about endgame content. This, the way it all repeats, there's nothing new, difficulty and stakes bleed away as you snap the game over your knee - it's my copy of White 2 with two hundred hours in it. It's me playing Fire Emblem Awakening in under 3 hours while skipping every cutscene. Are you playing for the sake of play, for the sake of indulging in your memories, because you're afraid of the hole it'll leave when you stop?

Of note: the narrative never condemns Siffrin for unwittingly causing their own suffering. He's a victim of circumstance. It's seen as endearing, even, that Siffrin loves their friends to the point of rather seeing the world destroyed than them gone. But Siffrin is also told: we'll stay with you for now, but we'll part ways eventually. And one day, you'll have to be okay with it.

Stop draining the things you love of every ounce of enjoyment just because you're afraid of what happens next. I'm not saying to never play your favorite games again. Playing ISAT a second time, I still had a lot of fun! I saw so many new things I didn't before, and I enjoyed myself immensely, reading the same dialogue over and over. But... it makes me look at other games I love and still play, and makes me ask... is this still fun? Do I still need to play this game to enjoy it? Even writing this is an afterimage of my enjoyment, but it's a new way to interact with the game, to analyze it through this lens. Fuck, man, I write fanfiction. Look at me.

All of this, fanart, fanfic, analysis, is a way to prolong that enjoyment without making yourself suffer for it. Without just going through the motions of enjoyment without actually experiencing any. But one day, the thing you love won't be fun to talk and write and draw about. And it's okay. You'll have new things to love. I promise.

In the end.... I'm certain I'll replay ISAT one day. Between great writing, art, puzzles and unresolved mysteries, it's my shoe-in for game of the year.

But I won't replay it for quite some time. I've had enough, for now, so I let my love take other forms.

Siffrin is never condemned, because love is no evil. Be it love for another person, or for a game. And please, if you're overempathetic - it's still a game, at the end of the day. The great thing about games is that you can always boot them up again, no matter how long its been.

A circle within a circle indeed.

To summarize:

The repetitiveness of ISAT's combat, lack of new enemies, and Siffrin's ever increasing strength eventually allows you to snap the combat over your knee, rendering it irrelevant and boring. Though this may seem counterproductive at first, it perfectly mirrors how Siffrin has also grown bored with these repeated encounters and views them only as an obstacle to get past. The reflection of Siffrin's own tiredness with the player's annoyance increases the compassion the player has for Siffrin as a character.

Additionally, the endgame state of the combat system serves as commentary on the state of a favorite game played too often, much like how Siffrin has unwittingly trapped themself in the loop. Despite the game having no more challenge or content left to over, a player might return to their favorite game anyway, solely to try and recreate the early experience of actually having fun with it. This ties into ISAT's metanarrative about the fear of change and refusal to let go of comfort even when the object (here, your favorite video game) offering that comfort has become utterly bereft of any substance to actually engage with. Playing for the sake of playing, with no actual investment to keep going besides your own memories.

Later on, stripping away even the pretense of strategy for a "press button and wait" format of final bosses highlights the lack of options at Siffrin's disposal and truly forces the player into their shoes. Truly, the only way to win is to stop playing.

#feli speaks #in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #lays down on floor. it's done. it's done #i actually narrowed down in scope to just focus on the combat by the way. and this is like. several thousand words

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theonotti · 4 months

Text

SILENT NIGHT | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader!Riddle

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The ghost of Christmas Eve Past haunts Theo's present, but not because he needs to change. He needs a reminder of who to never become.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo or reader), Domestic Violence (Not with Theo or reader), Hurt/Comfort, angsty, fluffy,

Notes: I'm late, but heres a Christmas one shot for Theo :)

That Final Night | Mio

Christmas Eve: Then

“Teddy? To bed, my love.”

Theo smiled from his hiding spot behind the curtains. In his eight year old mind, there’s no way she could see him. He was invisible. Behind the silky fabric, he ceased to exist. Beyond the darkness between the window and the curtain, Theo could hear the sounds of his mother’s heels tapping against the hardwood. She was close. He could see the outline of her silhouette from the other side of the thin curtain.

“Father Christmas won’t leave any presents if he knows a certain boy is still awake and hiding!” Her honey soaked voice echoed out again. Before Theo even had the chance to process her words, the curtain was ripped away and he was in his mother’s arms. She spun herself around, making Theo fell as if he was flying through the air. His shrieks of laughter bounced off the thinly decorated walls before she slowed to a halt, smiling lovingly at the wavy haired boy.

“Come, love,” She whispered to him. “I have your tea ready.”

Setting him back down to his feet, Cassundra Nott smiled down at her son before leading him out of the sitting room and down the corridor to his bedroom.

Theo didn’t like walking the halls of the mansion, despite his many years of living there. The energy in the air was always so grim, the walls bare and painted a dark grey colour. Theo was convinced that there were demons in the walls, due to the screams he could hear coming from them some nights. His mother assured him time and time again that they were only in his nightmares, but Theo was wise for his mere eight years. The nights he heard the screams being the same nights he would see his father go into the basement of the house as the young lad was ushered quickly to bed was not lost on Theo.

In fact, it only made him wonder if his father was summoning the demons, keeping them there as a way to ensure Theo stayed in line.

There was only one person who brought any slither of warmth under the cold roof of Nott Manor, and it was the woman walking a few paces ahead of him. Her golden blonde curls trailed down her back, her delicate fingers tracing an invisible line into the wall as she led Theo to his bedroom. He looked at her with such incredible awe. Theo didn’t worship any sort of God, because no God could even come close to comparing to the wonder that was Cassundra Nott. If someone told him that she hung the stars and the moon every night, and that the sun only rose because she asked it to, he would’ve easily believed them. There were few people that Theo had in the world. His father’s care for him only extended as far as keeping the Nott legacy going. So that left Theo with three people: Mattheo, Draco, and his mother. But she topped the list. In every circumstance, she topped the list.

His mother opened the door to his bedroom, ushering him inside. The dark green of the walls made the room seem much darker than Theo would like. His father insisted on the colour scheme matching that of Slytherin house, as if it would somehow eliminate the already incredibly low chances of him ending up in another house come time for him to ship off to Hogwarts. His slot in the House of the Cunning and Ambitious was as guaranteed as the snow falling in the winter, or his father downing half a bottle of whiskey before dinner. Theo wished the walls were blue, though he learned the hard way to not let that thought be anything more than a thought.

A steaming mug of tea was sitting on the bedside table, waiting for him as his mother pulled the blankets out for him. Her smile was warm as he walked over to the bed, crawling under the covers and taking the warm mug between his hands. He knew it had Calming Draught in it, as he received this same dose in his tea every Christmas Eve, as well as the evening before his birthday.

Cassundra sat on the edge of the bed as she watched Theo take a long sip from the mug.

“Are you ready for Christmas, love?” She asked gently, raking her fingers through Theo’s hair. As he swallowed the tea, he nodded vigorously.

“I hope Father Christmas got me the broom I asked for!” He exclaimed. “Mattheo let me try his new broom and it was so fast! I bet I could get to Scotland in under five minutes.”

His mother laughed softly before saying, “Under five minutes? That sounds rather fast.”

Theo nodded enthusiastically.

“I could get to Hogwarts faster than the train! I won’t even need to take it! And then I could come visit you every single evening, so you can give me a kiss and a cuddle goodnight.”

If Theo weren’t so young and oblivious, he would’ve noticed the flush that filled his mother’s cheeks, or the tender smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. Or even the sadness that filled her eyes over the idea of him leaving her.

“Well, we have a few years yet before we have to worry about that,” She said delicately. “Maybe if you don’t get a broom this year, you’ll get one the Christmas before Hogwarts?” But all this response does is make Theo groan in displeasure.

“I don’t want to wait two years! I want a broom now!”

His mother smiled at his impatience, hooking her finger underneath his chin and forcing him to look up at her.

“I know you’re excited, lovely boy,” She said in a soft voice. “But I promise you, you’re going to have a good day tomorrow. I’ve made sure to let Father Christmas know how wonderful you’ve been this year.” She scrunched up her nose as she kissed the tip of his. “He doesn’t need to know of the times you were trouble.” She tilted her head as she looked down at him. “Surely he won’t disappoint.”

Theo looked up at his mother. Of course she was right. She was right about everything. And he trusted her more than anyone else to make sure Father Christmas knew what he wanted more than anything for Christmas.

Theo finished the last of his tea, making sure he got every last drop like he always did. When he set the mug down, he smiled up at the beautiful face of his mother, who was already smiling down at him. The potion’s effects were already starting to take hold, the running wheel of his mind slowing to a halt as his eyelids grew droopy. With one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder, Cassundra laid Theo down against his pillow.

“Now,” She said, her voice more stern than normal. “What are we not going to do this year?”

Theo let out a tired sigh.

“I won’t sneak down before morning to see what gifts are left for me.”

His mother nodded once, definitively.

“We don’t need another episode with your father.” In his obliviousness from ignorance and the Calming Drought effects, Theo didn’t notice the disdain in her voice, or the fear that flooded her face. Though he did remember the events of the year prior, the screaming from his father at all hours of the morning, followed by Theo being banished to his room until midday.

“I won’t sneak down again, mamma,” He said in a small voice, a yawn escaping him as his eyes began to droop shut.

Cassundra tucked the blankets in before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Theo’s forehead.

“Sleep well, il mio tesoro,” She said in a quiet whisper as the chestnut haired boy had already lost himself to his subconscious. With one last loving look, and a delicate trace down his cheek to ensure he was really sleeping, Cassundra Nott stood up from the bed and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her.

Little did she know that this would be the last time she saw her son like this.

It was only a few hours later that Theo was awoken by none other than his bladder. He squinted his eyes in the dark as he jumped out of bed, all but running from the room as quickly as his still asleep legs could take him. It wasn’t until he was in the bathroom that he started to wake up. The clock in the hallway chimed three in the morning, meaning his mother was long asleep. His father had gone out to celebrate the holidays with a few other Death Eaters, and he made sure to tell Cassundra and Theo that it was unlikely he would be home before dinner the next day.

Just one peak.

And then you’ll be back in bed.

No one will ever know.

The logic made sense to him, and before he knew it, his feet were carrying him out of the bathroom and down the hall. Walking right passed his bedroom, he went right to the stairs and slowly tiptoed down.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the stairs that the voices registered.

“...wake Theodore, please keep your voice down.”

“How dare you police me in my own home!?”

The slur in his father’s voice was so prominent that he almost didn’t recognize him, though the yelling was a sound the young lad was deeply accustomed to. Theo sank down so he was sitting down on the edge of the step, his hands gripping the wooden poles of the bannister as he watched his mother cower. Standing behind the man of the house was a flash of long, platinum white hair with a cane that was used in this moment to stop him from swaying. Next to Lucius Malfoy was Fenrir Greyback, his arms bare despite the raging cold outside, and Antonin Dolohov, who had a flask to his mouth as he watched Nott Sr. in amusement. All of the men in the living room were inebriated beyond belief.

Cassundra swallowed hard before she spoke again. The fear was so clear cut on her face that Theo wanted to rush to her and cup her cheeks, telling her all would be okay.

“I’m not policing you…” She said in a small voice. “I just think it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m setting up for Theodore, and-”

Her words were lost to the force of Nott Sr.’s hand wrapping around her throat and slamming her against the wall. Her head was unable to bounce forward, but it was evident by the deep grimace on her face how hard it was hit. The reverberation of his mother’s body denting the drywall caused Theo to fall backwards, almost falling down the stairs entirely.

“Are you arguing with me?” Nott Sr.’s voice was so low that Theo almost couldn’t hear it. But he’d learn how to pick out that voice at a very young age. It was how he knew when to go sit quietly in his room with a book, remaining unseen and unheard.

“No!” Cassundra was able to gasp out, her hands trying and failing to pry her husband’s calloused fingers from her throat.

“That sounded like arguing to me, Nott,” Lucius piped in. “Can't let anyone think your wife wears the trousers in the household, can you?”

Theo was not a violent child, but the sound of his best friend’s father egging on the abuse of his mother was filling the eight year old’s chest with a level of anger he had never felt before. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch. He wanted to hit and hit and hit Lucius until his big, ugly nose went flat. But the fear that his mother taught him to have of his father and the other Death Eaters pulled at his muscles, keeping him frozen on the stairs as he watched the scene unfold.

Before Theo had a moment to breathe, a wand appeared in Nott Sr.’s free hand, the tip pressed into his wife’s jugular. Theo could feel the air being ripped out of his lungs as he watched the colour leave Cassundra’s cheeks. Her face was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree beside her. Theo’s face was pressed against the wood, so much so that his head was almost fully squeezing between the poles.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nott Sr. sneered angrily. “Disrespecting me in front of my colleagues.”

“Are you planning to let that slide, Nott?” Fenrir chimed in with a laugh before taking a long swig from a bottle of firewhiskey.

“Maybe I should have your voice?”

His wand didn’t even move, but a spark of light still shot out of the end, and suddenly, Cassundra’s mouth opened and closed, but no words, not even a stammer or faint whisper, came out. Hot tears spilled down Theo’s cheeks and onto his pyjama bottoms, but he didn’t notice as he watched in horror while his mother tried to speak but only air left her mouth.

Please stop.

Please don’t.

I couldn’t handle never hearing her speak again.

Or hearing her sing to me.

Or hearing her say my name.

Theo’s hands gripped the poles so tightly that his knuckles turned a blazing shade of white.

Nott Sr. threw his wife to the ground as Lucius, Fenrir and Antonin laughed in amusement, as if Nott Sr. had told a joke or done something funny. But none of this was funny. Not to Theo, who wanted to run over and protect his mother. Who wanted nothing more than to bring the same sort of pain to his father and friends that they were bringing to the most important person in his life.

“A woman must remember her place,” Nott Sr. continued on, pacing slow circles around his wife while his fellow Death Eater’s watched in belligerent amusement. The slur in his voice would’ve added a sort of facetiousness to his words, but with the way he looked down at the blonde figure he had just thrown to the floor, it only made it more menacing.

“And how will you remind her?” Lucius asked, causing Theo’s father to turn and look at the blonde haired man with a smirk.

“I have a few ideas in mind.”

Cassundra attempted to scream with every fibre of her being, veins popping out of her neck and forehead while her skin turned a dark red, but no sound came out at all. Theo felt her pain as if he, too, had his voice taken from him, as if he had been slammed against the wall, as if he had been thrown to the floor.

Nott Sr. turned back to his wife, the smirk fading quickly from his face and replaced with disdain. He raised his wand above his head.

Theo blacked out.

The eight year old’s legged carried him at a speed he didn’t know he could move at, until he was throwing his arms around his mother, guarding her.

“Father, please,” He sobbed into her soft blonde curls as he addressed the presence towering over them. Cassundra wrapped her arms around Theo, noiselessly comforting him as her fingers raked through his hair, her eyes squeezed shut. The room went deadly silent for a brief moment.

“You will learn to speak when you’re bloody spoken to, boy,” Nott Sr. sneered, his voice low and filled with even more anger than before as he grabbed Theo by the back of his shirt and ripped him out of his mother’s arms, tossing him across the room so hard, he slid across the hardwood floor and into the wall. A shadow leered over him as Nott Sr. rounded on Theo, his wand at the ready.

“If you’re so desperate to be a man, then you can handle her punishment then, can’t you?”

The next few moments went by so quickly, yet also as if they were in slow motion.

Nott Sr. raised his hand above his head, the tip of his wand igniting into a bright red colour.

A flash of blonde jumped onto his back, tackling the older man to the ground.

Lucius and Antonin grab Cassundra off Nott Sr. and toss her to the floor once more.

And then, the flash of green.

He didn’t hear his father speak. Hell, he didn’t even see his father get up from the floor. But make no mistake, Theo didn’t miss the older man, with the wild chestnut hair that he did inherit and the menacing look that he did not, pointing his wand at his mother, sending the bright green spell directly into her chest.

She was gone before the scream left Theo’s mouth.

“No, no, no, no, no, no…”

Theo crawled across the floor, moving his mother’s head from the floor to his lap as he placed his hands on either cheek.

“Mum, please,” He begged, staring into her lifeless eyes as they remained open. “Mamma, wake up. PLEASE WAKE UP!”

“For Merlin’s sake…” His father mumbled before flicking his wand once more. Theo’s voice evaporated off his tongue, but his lips still moved as he soundlessly begged his mother to come back to him. His tears fell onto the bare skin of her shoulder, and he wondered if they would be enough to warm her back to life. When she didn’t stir, Theo broke down entirely, holding her head close to his chest and burying his face in her golden curls as he began to rock back and forth.

“One of the house elves will clean it up,” Nott Sr. said to his friends, as if speaking about a

spilled dinner plate and not the dead body of his wife. “Come, gentlemen. The parlour is where my

reserve is, and I need another glass after that… unfortunate incident.”

And so Nott Sr. left the room, followed by Malfoy, Dolohov and Greyback, leaving his grieving son on the floor, where he stayed for hours until the house elves finally pried the body of Cassundra Nott out of his hands.

The hands that would never get to hug or touch his mother ever again.

Christmas Eve: Now

The sound of a crash echoes throughout the kitchen, followed quickly with a loud groan.

“Sorry, sorry…”

“I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you wake up my wife, I’ll throttle you.”

A slew of drunken laughter fills the kitchen as the three men clamber in through the back door. Draco respectfully picks up the trash can he knocked over under the watchful eye of Theo. Once it’s back in its proper position, Draco gestures towards it proudly, as if he had just done something profound.

“Happy, Nott?”

Theo bobs his head back and forth, pretending to mull this over.

“I’d be happier if you weren’t an idiot.”

Mattheo, who had just taken a large pull from the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand, spits it out all over the refrigerator.

“That’s like asking for snow in the middle of July.”

With a deep scowl on his face, Draco shoves Mattheo into the counter before sneering, “Fuck off, Riddle.”

Mattheo, in his truest form, makes kissy faces at Malfoy, who then proceeds to throw a kitchen roll at his head. Before it can hit the floor, Theo catches it in midair. The other two look at him as if he had just juggled seven kitchen rolls, or caught Baby Jesus himself.

“Alright, alright, let’s move to the parlour before the two of you destroy my kitchen.”

The walk from the kitchen to the parlour is one the three of them have taken on drunken nights like these hundreds of times, yet at this moment, the distance seems to have grown exponentially longer. Mattheo stumbles as he walks, a loud laugh escaping him as he anchors himself with the wall. Theo, in an effort to keep his friend quiet, smacks him upside the head.

“What was that for?” The dark curly haired man shouts, not without an undercurrent of laughter in his tone.

“For being a git,” Theo hisses. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

It’s too late though.

Over the sound of Draco’s giggles, Theo can make out the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Theo?”

His heart stops at the sight of you on the landing, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as they jump between him and his friends. He smiles sheepishly at you.

“Did we wake you, cara mia?”

You shake your head as you reach the bottom of the steps. He sucks in a large gulp of oxygen as he takes in the sight of you. Even in your pyjamas, he finds the sight of you simply breathtaking. The sleep stains on your face and the way your eyes droop makes his heart race as if he was just seeing you for the first time. With a slight sway in his step, his feet carry him towards your magnetic pull, his hands gently gripping your waist.

“You can tell me if we woke you,” He says in a gentle voice, an undercurrent of guilt filling his tone. But you shake your head again as you bring your hands to the tops of his shoulders, running your fingers along the curves of his muscles to the dip of his neck.

“I woke up a couple of minutes before I heard you come inside, I promise.”

He doesn’t believe you, but his blood shot eyes are so enraptured by the beauty that is your face that he doesn’t care. His hands move up to cradle your cheeks before he brings his face to yours, peppering your skin with kisses. Your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your temples, your eyelids. Every piece of you that he can reach gets a kiss. His fingertips tease weave into your hair as you place your hands on his clavicle, laughing as he kisses you.

From behind him, Mattheo and Draco both make fake retching noises.

“I’ve never met a more disgusting couple,” Malfoy whines.

“Truly the worst to be around,” Riddle adds in agreement.

“Oh, piss off to the parlour, you two,” Theo barks as he pulls his mouth away from your face. He doesn’t turn to make sure they leave, trusting the sound of their fading footsteps down the hall. His thumbs stroke the skin of your cheeks delicately.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” He says before gently kissing your mouth. You hum contently as the kiss lasts a few more seconds.

“Happy Christmas, Theo.”

The sight of you smiling up at him makes his stomach flip. He finds himself wondering how he got so lucky, finding you? From the moment you walked into his life that fateful day at Hogwarts, his life turned into a sort of dream that he didn’t want to wake up from. And it was made even better when you had married him.

Even after all this time, he can’t get enough of you.

“Get some sleep,” He says gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll keep the boys quiet.”

“Please,” You say, your voice still husky from just having woken up. “And please tell Mattheo that if he throws up on the carpet again, it’ll be him cleaning it up, not the house elves.”

Theo lets out a hearty, full laugh. It’s something his life is filled with a lot of these days. With his friends and you by his side, sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that it wasn’t always like this.

“I love you with my entire heart,” He slurs, gently kissing you again. “Please never forget that.”

You laugh softly again, the sound making Theo feel lightheaded. Or is it the alcohol? No, it’s definitely the sound of your laugh.

“I love you too, Drunky,” You tease him. “Please make sure you come to bed. Don’t fall asleep in the parlour.” He nods, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Yes, cara mia.”

You give him one last kiss to the cheek before you turn and make your way back upstairs. Theo’s eyes watch you the entire way, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you disappear into the hallway. It isn’t until he hears the creaky bedroom door close that he finally turns and starts walking towards the parlour to join his mates.

As he walks down the hall, one of the pictures out of the corner of his eye stops him. Slowly, he turns, the amusement leaving his face as his eyes fall on that one painting.

His mother smiles down at him as she sits in a rocking chair. Behind her is a dark space where his father had been, up until a night of grief and alcohol caused Theo to direct a spell towards the fake personification, and subsequently led to the destruction of all paintings of his father in the house. Though he had the frame replaced, the damage remains.

His eyes trace the trail of golden curls that flow down her shoulders and upper torso. He can still remember how soft the strands felt when she’d kiss him goodnight and they’d brush along his cheek.

“Please tell me I’m not like him,” He begs her, his voice suddenly small. “Please tell me I’ve made you proud.”

She smiles tenderly down at him, his heart feeling ready to burst.

“Oh, il mio tesoro,” She says softly as his eyes flutter shut. “You're ten times the man he’d ever be. And I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried.”

Theo smiles widely, tears escaping through his shut eyelids.

Bliss.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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rongrii · 2 months

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I recently started redesigning characters from HH for my and my friends au’s, first one I did was Lucifer :D

He quickly became my favourite character, and I really wanted to have my own take on him.

I would really appreciate if you gave me you feedback and thoughts! I know text I wrote is long, but I really tried to make things interesting <:) I do not support Viv, I pirated the show and I know it’s flaws, so I am trying to fix them how I like.

First of all, visual design changes. I want to say that I didn’t put “animation friendly design” as my priority, in show I would like to decrease amount of his details, but here it’s not very important.

Facial features changes:

- I wanted to make him look more interesting, adding goat symbolism in his eyes, nose, horns and ears. He looks kinda strange in show if think about it, angels there don’t have any noses? It bothers me a bit.

- Here I am taking a turn into making Lucifer and Satan into once person, unlike in the show. I just wanted and It seemed more logical to me. His hair is now wavy/curly, I took inspiration from paintings and sculptures where Lucifer is depicted with wavy hair.

Outfit:

- His shoulder pads(if I am using the right word) have small details on them which I repeated on his coat. I change his bow tie to a tie mostly due a personal preference, and now eye and appears only in his demon form is visible at all times.

- Hat now has a single big apple in the middle, and snake can be either on staff or the hat. Staff now has dark wooden texture that flows into the apple, resembling a tree.

Now onto character role, personality and behaviour changes.

Trying to be equal to God:

- Biblical reason to Lucifer’s fall was his pride and desire to be equal to his creator. If we had this motivation for him in the show, it would be much better. It suits person who lives in circle of Pride, it may explain why Lilith took Charlie away from Lucifer in that one scene, it adds depth into Charlie’s daddy issues. I love for how dorky and unserious he is the show but here, I wanted to follow another path, of making Lucifer actually prideful, terrifying king of hell.

- God sees everything. In attempts to imitate it, Lucifer the same way sees and knows about most of what happens in hell. You notice how much eye ornaments are on the streets? I took this idea in Lucifer being able to spectate whenever he wants on any place eyes are placed in. This extends to every ring, having even more power than Vox and his cameras. Lucifer’s eyes on his cape may also appear in situation when he decides to watch sinners and demons, as well as pupils shift form. He also knows every soul who enters and leaves hell, like Sera.

- I often see points about Lucifer being God’s favourite in the past. This could be incorporated in the story, making even more sense for Lucifer to be so prideful. Charlie could face the same consequences, + Lucifer could treat her like Charlie is a God’s son, like Lucifer himself is. More depth and angst into Charlie’s relationship with father, yay!!

Other changes:

- He could use more coldness to the sinners. I don’t think it much matters to him if they are killed, more than that, Lucifer would kill the sinners like exorcists do, if they are not acting how he wants to. But in hell, you can’t run away from Lucifer like it is possible from exorcists. It would make him more scary.

- He and the royal family because of the first point are respected. Lucifer’s pride wouldn’t allow him to treat him badly.

This is not all, put the post is long already and I am still thinking things out. I will make part 2 with his full demon from and more thoughts, so stay tuned!

Thank you if you read all that, and even if you didn’t and just liked the art. Tell me if I got things wrong and I have mistakes in my research of Lucifer in religion. Have an awesome day!!

#art #artists on tumblr #sketch #drawing #digital art #rongrii art #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel art #hazbin critical #hazbin redesign #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #vivziepop critical #long post

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blondephenobarbitol · 3 months

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I actually fucking hate Mr. Jägerman here's why

Mr. Jägerman is a character in the Hatchetfield universe who is never onstage and only mentioned in 1 (one) line. This was enough to ignite my rage.

It's because in this one line, so much is revealed about Max's character. So let's dissect that.

Max is mean. We know this. The very first thing established about him is how threatening he is. But I think his character often gets lost in the 'bully' identity, because just like every other Hatchetfield character, he is layered and complex.

We also find out two other things about him pretty much immediately: He has a crush on Grace (we'll come back to that) and he needs to feel in control.

There's a lot of evidence to support this. He repeatedly refers to himself as the 'god' of Hatchetfield High. He creates arbitrary rules around who his friends can date. He creates arbitrary rules around where the nerds are 'allowed' to go. And the moment someone implies he is not as powerful as he thinks he is, he retaliates violently.

This isn't just Max being a jerk. These are all signs of someone who is almost certainly deprived of control in their home life, which forces them to find it elsewhere. Max likely has little to no say in what happens to him at home. He's clinging to a sense of control wherever he can find it. And that line basically confirms that his home isn't a safe place for him.

Back to the crush on Grace, when you look objectively at the actions Max takes in the show, you'll find that he's not really a bad person, he's a mean person. He's a little shit that processes his need for control in the entirely wrong way, but people are shaped by their surroundings. The actions that come from him are different.

His crush on Grace only supports this. Every other bully in every piece of media sees the girl they like and whistle and say "yo lemme hit that." And if the girl rejects them, they resort to "tease bitch." Not Max. The first thing he does is start a conversation with her, laughs at (what he thinks is) a joke, then offers to carry her books. Like, I wish my highschool bullies were that nice to their own girlfriends.

When she rejects him, it's true that he continues to pursue her and calls her "dirty girl," but that once again comes back to his need to feel in control. But he doesn't get aggressive, he doesn't do anything that screams 'bully.'

We don't get a lot of scenes with pre-ghost Max. But when we do, they're interesting to analyze. Like, have you ever noticed that when he finds Steph in the Waylon Place, his very first instinct is to tell her, "Get behind me, I'll protect you" from, as far as he knows, actual ghosts? He feels like his life is in danger, but he's still putting Steph's safety first, despite having no interest in her romantically. That's huge.

There's even some evidence to support that Max terrorizing the nerds is, from his perspective, not so one-sided. When he finds out they were the ones who pulled the pranks, he says "I thought you guys hated me."

And he's open to change. He's not stubborn, he's not brutal. He doesn't continue hating the nerds just because it is what it is. Moments before his death, he is showing signs of opening up to them, and actually seems like he's coming around.

And none of this is meant as trying to defend Max's actions. I know he's the antagonist. I know he treats people unfairly. But all of this has to come from somewhere. I'm trying to say that there was clearly a foundation of a good person underneath all that cruelty. So what toughened his shell?

Mr. Jägerman. Max reveals in that one line that if he were to go back home from the 'party', his dad would call him a 'little cuck.' "can't even fight off one lousy skele'uhn." In this, he reveals his dad is demeaning to him. He's the kind of man who would hear that his son was in a life-or-death situation, and instead of comforting him, he would have made fun of him.

What must that do to a person? As someone who grew up in a home where Dad wasn't always a safe person to be around, I know that when I was younger, a lot of my bad bad behaviours were something I learned from him.

The prank meant to scare Max was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for him.

I think a lot of what happens in NPMD is indirectly Mr. Jägerman's fault. "Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein is the doctor, wisdom is knowing Frankenstein is the monster" type of shit. It is directly because of his actions and the way he treated his own child that any of this happened.

or maybe I'm reading too much into this. But I fucking hate Max's dad so much.

#sincerely #nerdy prudes spoilers #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #max jagerman #max jägerman #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #tgwdlm #black friday starkid #pete spankoffski #ruth fleming #richie lipschitz #grace chasity #steph lauter #character analysis

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ironunderstands · 1 month

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2.1 was so good holy shit (spoilers, obviously)

GOD THEY ATE AND IM SPECIFICALLY GONNA TALK ABOUT HOW WELL THEY WROTE RATIO IN THIS BECAUSE IM FOAMING AT THE GODDAMN MOUTH IT CHANGES HOW YOU VIEW EVERYTHING BUT IN A GOOD WAY.

so, let’s start from the beginning in 2.0 I want to walk you through my experience of it

ratio mean to aventurine, everyone gets mad. I feel weird about it, pre-2.1 I come to the conclusion that he got used as a plot device in that scene, since being racist contradicts his core motivations and the dialogue is awkward and has no real reason behind it, I chalk it up to bad writing but ultimately forgive it because 2.1 seems centered around Aventurine so they need setup for that

2.1 drops, my bsf plays the update throughout the night and we are losing our shit. He gets to the part where Ratio “betrays” Aventurine. I fucking lose it, I try to reconcile this with my preconceived notions of ratio, they don’t match up at all, his behavior that whole time doesn’t in the slightest. I am confused, I wonder if I have been wrong about him this whole time, if his whole speech on the Space Station and his character quests were some kind of fluke. I mean it could be in character? Knowledge of how a stellaron works could save millions if not billions of lives, invaluable information which Ratio would have trouble turning down because of its value. It still feels deeply wrong, Ratio isnt a backstabber, and he wouldn’t so easily bargain with Sunday over information he has no confirmation of (and could likely obtain in some other way).

The story continues, me and Haseeb (aforementioned best friend) are still pissed, I’m losing it because my favorite character just did something so unforgivable and out of character and I feel like a complete and utter idiot for interpreting a character to be a good person when they so clearly weren’t. Well, I (luckily) was so so so so so so so wrong about that, as it was all a setup, a plan devised by Aventurine to distract Sunday and forward their goals. I’ve never been happier, and suddenly every weird behavior, every “this doesn’t make sense” goes from “bad writing” to perhaps one of my favorite retroactive twists in fiction.

Ratio belittling Aventurine for his background doesn’t make any sense, I mean we literally saw the guy give a whole ass speech about how he believes all people deserve access to knowledge and that everyone is capable of being creative and having intellect, but that they just have to try for it, and if they are incapable of it, he DOCTOR Ratio is there to lend a helping hand. To cure the galaxy of stupidity, something which he views as not the lack of knowledge but rather the misuse and misinterpretation of it, how he depises the Genius Society because they mostly do not try and use their intellect from the betterment of other, and actively guide/encourage other scientists (and in Hertas case the researchers at the space station) to view knowledge as some sort of prize or commodity rather than tool. This notion is what causes Screwellum to acknowledge that Ratio is more like a medical doctor than a scholar. And this notion is something Sunday Isn’t Aware Of.

Sunday doesn’t know who Ratio really is, he may have heard of his various exploits, but Ratio has a reputation for arrogance, bluntness and insensitivity, something which Ratio plays up to the nines. The 2.0 scene with Aventurine goes from seemingly massively OOC for Ratio to him actively playing up his negative reputation to play into Sundays perceptions of the pair for their plan. Ratio->

a) makes it seem like Aventurine fucked up and he’s mad at him for losing the cornerstones, something which Sunday would see and go “hmm they don’t like each other

b) this “oh I can drive a wedge between them” notion gets worse (although in their case better) when Ratio brings up Aventurine’s (not entirely accurate) background. Sunday now thinks he has leverage over Aventurine and even more of a chance of getting Ratio to betray him. Ratio also makes it seem like he just learned this information by stating he “did his homework” and this supposed unfamiliarity with one another would give Sunday more confidence to try and drive a wedge between them

c) this makes it seem like the IPC are unaware of the Families constant surveillance, as it looks like they are having an important conversation in a private room, which would make Sunday think they are unaware of his eyes and ears everywhere

Now let me qualify this notion with more evidence because you could still try and argue that the deal Ratio and Aventurine struck was post 2.0 argument

Topaz (my glorious Queen). At the end of the 1.4 (or was it 1.5?) Belabog quest she has a conversation with Aventurine in which he requests for her help in Penacony, and we do not get a confirmation on if she said yes or not. Until 2.1, in which the the Topaz (and Jade) stone in in Aventurines possession, meaning she took him up on that offer prior to 2.0 because how else would he bring multiple cornerstones there, which we know there are many because Ratio says he lost the cornerstones, not just his own. Topaz would not give this item up easily or on a whim in between 2.0 and 2.1, meaning she would have to be let in on his plan prior, meaning the plan was formed prior. Since Ratio was also assigned to this mission keeping him in the dark would make negative sense and actively undermine their collaboration, something which he brings up in their fake argument

2. The Final Victory Lightcone. I originally thought this scene to be after their argument for complicated reasons, the most important of which being the minor snippet of conversation we see between Ratio and Aventurine during the first time we meet Acheron. Aventurine mentions 3 chips, Ratio doubts him, and the lightcone description starts with Aventurine questioning his doubt and firing three shots, a perfect correlation that made me place the order of events in that way. However, we get to see the snippet of conversation between Aventurine and Ratio in game, right before they meet Sunday, not prior to the lightcone events. However, they are still clearly connected for aforementioned reasons, just in a different manner, let me explain. Now we know the three chips reference not bullets but the three cornerstones, and Ratio openly expresses his doubt because the family is always watching (something which I will get into) and because a part of him does doubt this plan will go well. However, Aventurine prior reminds him of the events of the lightcone with the three chips. My interpretation is that Aventurine took that gamble in the lightcone to convince Ratio to go along with his crazy plan since if he can win a game of Russian Roulette with an unwavering smile on his face he an insane gamble means nothing to him (ratio doesn’t buy it because it’s ratio but the sheer audacity or you could say the “charming audacity” makes him go along with it). In my opinion this scene only makes sense pre-penacony, due to the timeline of events, which is why I believe it the reason for the events in it has to be Aventurine trying to convince Ratio to join in.

3) The family is always watching. During the 2.1 story quest it gets brought up several times in many different ways that it seems like the family has eyes on everything and everyone. Sunday’s fuckass bird is everywhere, and the man himself (minus being a goddamn biblically accurate angel) is covered in eye shaped shit and possesses close ties with the Harmony, which lends itself well to a character that knows things considering the Aeon itself is a conglomeration of many different perspectives. He fucking perception checks Aventurine, when the crew goes to look for info on firefly they learn the dream pools monitor people’s vitals and everything, even producing a dialogue option where the trailblazer states they feel like their every move is being watched. Topaz gets stalked by bloodhound members upon arrival, I could go on. TLDR Sunday knows almost everything that’s going on in Penacony, this is what leads him to believe the traitor is within the family, and his access to knowledge is something the IPC 100% knows about. I mean they have been presumably attempting to try and get it back for a while, and they would reasonably extensively try and learn everything about it. The Family notoriously hates negotiating with them so the IPC either learning and/or coming to the conclusion that the Family is watching their every move isn’t a ridiculous notion. If this conversation was genuine, if Ratio truly wanted to discuss this matter with Aventurine, why would he do it in a likely wiretapped, not very soundproof room where any passerby could hear Ratio loudly exclaim that Aventurine lost the very important cornerstones and that he is also one of the most despised groups in the galaxy because that would really do numbers for both their reputations. If you think about it, this not being staged is an incredibly stupid blunder on Ratio’s end (minus the deliberate OOCness) because of all the places Ratio could set up a very important meeting he does it in one of the worst places ever.

4) The dialogue in the scene. It’s awkward, it’s so awkward and the whole “also my family died I didn’t get an education” seemed so tacked on the first time I watched it. Knowing now, it seemed so tacked on because it was, Aventurine had to shove the info in there somewhere and their incredible conversational skills decided that was the best part in there. Ratio fucking leaving before Aventurine is even done talking goes from a “huh weird” to a “wow he is really playing up this arrogant scholar role”. And if Ratio is playing the arrogant scholar, Aventurine is playing the dumb, helpless, blonde to a T. Losing the cornerstones and acting nonchalant about it, letting Ratio insult him so callously and letting the insults slide, talking absolute nonsense at the end about random things that don’t matter, sadly lamenting into the distance that he’s alone again. Bro is playing it up and I live for it. They also and play up these personas in their little adventure prior to meeting Sunday, Aventurine asks stupid questions like wondering about the species of the bird that make up the statues and talking about how he wants to play in the sandpit and even insulting Sunday a bit, behavior that would make Sunday think him unprepared and unserious rather than cold and calculating. If Aventurine does that well, Ratio plays up his arrogant, uncaring scholar persona to the nines. He insults any and every decision or thing Aventurine does, loudly sighing of how happy he is to finally have some peace and quiet when Aventurine leaves his sight for 0.00008 milleseconds, pointing out his sarcasm, beefing with a random Pepeshi bodyguard no reason, pointing out his sarcasm, just the exaggerated way he talks in general, and suggesting he admit Aventurine into the Genius Society (even Ratio wouldn’t stoop so low as to suggest Aventurine was worthy of that).

Moreover, this is really, really tragic because I do think there are several moments of genuine banter and fun the two share “Ratio, you’re huge!” was not added to the script to enhance the plot guys. And obviously Aventurine knows most of Ratios behavior is acting, however he has such severe trust issues, and Ratio is so damn straightforward and blunt that he worries the man was serious about some of it which just breaks my heart. Soft Ratio please add it give me one conversation, the note at the end of 2.1 doesn’t count it’s too short.

Ultimately, knowing what I know now I can’t help but view the 2.0 conversation with Aventurine as being anything but staged, it simply makes no sense otherwise, and it happily obsolescent Ratio of his sins. This was a bit incoherent I honestly just wanted to rant (if you couldn’t tell haha) but I hope you enjoyed it regardless. I need sincere Ratio more then I need oxygen and I’m not afraid to say it.

#honkai star rail #hsr spoilers #aventurine #dr ratio #aventio #i love 2.1

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