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bubble-tea-bunny · 5 years

Text

an exercise in teamwork

[freddy freeman x reader]

author’s note: painted my nails a cute spring shade and i am v happy

word count: 2,882

Ever since you and Freddy had agreed to split the price of the new video game coming out at the end of the month, you have seen its name popping up everywhere—a commercial on television, plastered upon billboards you spot in passing down the freeway, the front page article with the biggest coverage on gaming news sites. This release was going to be huge. Of course the two of you had to get your hands on what many are beginning to argue may be game of the year.

People talk about it at school, in the hallways between periods. In the chaos of those five minutes, you catch snippets of conversations, finding out who’s already pre-ordered, who is going to, who’s going to be there for midnight release, and so on and so forth. At this point, from how much you’ve heard, half the student body must be buying this game.

Freddy laughs when you say that. He says you’re exaggerating and you don’t correct him because maybe you are, maybe you haven’t actually heard as many people talking about it as you think you have. And he tells you about a phenomenon called the Baader-Meinhof effect: It’s a frequency illusion. When you become aware of something, you start to notice it all over the place.

Huh, so that’s what that is! You’ve always wondered, and Freddy’s finally given it a name. You consider it for a moment, all the other times in your life you’ve experienced it, and you turn to him and say Wow, you’re so smart and he playfully tells you to shut up because he thinks you’re teasing and he’s embarrassed but you’re not teasing. He’s smart and he knows a lot of things and that’s only one reason you’re glad he is your best friend. You learn a little bit more from him each day.

Neither of you looks forward to the school lunches. Well, no one does. They certainly leave a lot to be desired but you eat it because you know you’ll regret it when you get hungry in a couple of hours and you’re still stuck in class. Today, however, Freddy is unable to get himself to follow your lead. He steps out of line to search for a table, and once you take the chair next to him and ask if he’s just going to buy chips from the vending machine, he shakes his head. He’d been running late this morning and failed to grab his wallet on his way out the door.

“But I’ll live,” he promises you, grinning lopsidedly.

You smile back but it’s not a satisfactory assurance. You’re about to offer to lend him a dollar, but you remember you’d spent it this morning when you bought a can of soda at the convenience store around the corner. So you begin scanning the other students in the cafeteria, and Freddy’s brows furrow and he asks what you’re doing, but you don’t answer.

“Be back in a sec,” you declare suddenly, standing up and rounding the table. Freddy watches, still thoroughly confused, as you walk across the room.

Delilah is at a corner table with who you assume to be her partner for the project in history, for they sit side-by-side with the rubric and a piece of paper scrawled in what you assume to be their ideas for how to tackle the assignment. She spots you before you speak up to announce your presence, and you smile widely when she does.

Freddy can’t read your lips from this far away, but he can see your smile clearly. It remains on your face for the duration of your conversation with Delilah, who reaches into her backpack. Her body blocks whatever she digs through it for, but then she’s produced a dollar bill that she holds out to you. If it were even possible, your grin widens even more, and with the dollar now in your grasp, you return to the table.

“Now you can get your chips.” You sound quite smug as you hand it off to him, plopping down in the hard chair (these cafeteria seats suck).

“What’d you say to her?” Freddy inquires, taking the dollar.

“That I’d pay her back tomorrow.” You shrug. “She trusts me.”

Freddy chuckles and shakes his head at your antics, but this is nothing new. In the time he’s known you he has found out just how easily you can get your way with that smile. You’ve gotten deadline extensions, an extra chocolate chip cookie from the lunch lady (it’s the only cafeteria food that’s actually good), and by now, he swears you could ask someone to do a backflip and they’d do it. It’s almost like your own superpower.

As he feeds the dollar into the vending machine and presses the buttons for the chips he wants, he’s thanking you silently in the back of his head (and Delilah too, to some extent). Once he has his snack, he turns back around, and you still wear the ghost of a grin as you watch him, like you heard him anyway.

One week before the game is set to be released, an announcement goes out that there will be a collectible handed out on a first-come, first-serve basis. Upon discovering this last piece of information, you and Freddy deflate. The line will be long at midnight, and the likelihood of their being anymore remaining figurines by three o’clock in the afternoon that Friday are incredibly low. Standing in line with everyone else, waiting for 12 AM to hit, is out of the question. You wouldn’t be allowed to go so late, and on a school night to boot.

“Hey, Anthony is working that night, isn’t he?”

Freddy nods and glances over at you where you sit on his bed, homework spread out on the sheets. “Yeah, he should be. Why?”

“I’m sure I could convince him to keep one for us.”

While Freddy is aware of the power of persuasion your grins hold, this is a case where he is very skeptical that it would be effective. Anthony hardly seems like a person who could be swayed. “A pretty smile can’t get you everything.” And though he is the one saying it, a part of him almost doesn’t believe that statement. Perhaps he’s wrong about Anthony (it’d be nice if he was and Anthony was indeed willing to hold onto an extra figurine).

But this remark is no blow to your confidence. Instead, you flash that aforementioned pretty smile in his direction. “We’ll see about that, Freeman.” Then you proceed to dive into your first assignment of the evening, flipping through a hard cover textbook with glossy pages and that took up almost half the space in your backpack.

Freddy laughs and, at least for now, concedes, murmuring Okay, [Name] and returning his attention to the computer.

On Thursday, you go straight to the game store after class. The bell atop the door jingles quietly and Anthony twists around. He lifts a hand to give a wave when he notices both of you walking farther in, towards where he is by the register.

“Oh, hey, guys,” he greets.

There are multiple boxes stacked on the table behind the register which no doubt hold multiple copies of the new game. Freddy’s almost inclined to ask for a peek, for the anticipation is nearly unbearable this close to release. He thinks if sees the cover art in person, even for just a second, he’d last until tomorrow. But he doesn't get the chance to bring this up, for you start speaking, and it reminds him to stay on track.

“Hey, Anthony,” you respond brightly, walking up to the counter and resting your arms on it. “So listen… you’re handing out those figurines tonight right?”

Anthony nods. “Yeah…” His eyes narrow and his brows furrow, signs that the cogs in his head are starting to spin, trying to figure out what you’re going to say next. You’re already continuing before he’s able to do so.

“Well we can’t pick up the game until tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could maybe hold onto one for us?”

At hearing this, Anthony sighs and shakes his head. “You know I can’t do that. It’s first-come, first-serve.”

“Pretty please?” You lay it on thick, smiling your familiar smile and you give the Cheshire cat a run for its money. Freddy’s gaze briefly slides from Anthony to you and if he had anything to say about it, if you aimed that smile at him, he’s not entirely sure he’d be able to refuse.

Anthony doesn’t reply right away, and there’s a moment where Freddy thinks you have managed to get your way. And if that is what’s happening right now, he doesn’t even care that he’s been proven wrong. You’d probably gloat, telling him in a sing-song tone I told you so, and he’d be a good sport and accept it and he’d promise not to underestimate you again.

Unfortunately, it appears as though there are still those out in the world who are impervious to your charm, for Anthony shakes his head again. (Freddy notices that he does look considerably more apologetic as he does, which means your grin had had some effect, at least.) “Sorry, [Name].”

Your smile drops, replaced by a slight frown, and your shoulders slouch—a picture of defeat. It occurs to Freddy he’s never seen you legitimately bummed about anything. Whether your dejection comes from the fact this means there will be no collectible figurine to be had, or from the fact your honey-dipped grin hadn’t worked, he’s not certain. Suddenly he hates that he had been right about the limitations of what he had always coined as your little superpower.

But he’s not going to let you flounder, disoriented in the face of loss. He’s your friend, your best friend, and what kind of friend would he be if he did that? So he wracks his brain—Think, Freddy, think!—for anything he could say to come to your aid.

“I’ll give you my lunch money for the next few weeks,” he proposes.

Anthony’s nose scrunches up like he’s smelled something bad. “I’m not taking your lunch money, Freeman. That makes me sound like a bully.”

It’s quiet again for a few seconds, and Freddy’s scrambling to come up with something else. Money was supposed to work! If Anthony didn’t want that, what else could there be to bribe him with? In the midst of his flurried thoughts he catches the small grin you aim his way from over your shoulder, appreciative of his attempts to assist you, and it’s the eye of the storm. And then you’ve turned back around, and your mouth opens and he knows you’re going to concede and tell Anthony it’s fine but before you can do that, Freddy beats you to the punch.

“I can get you a date with Mary.”

This stops you short, and your mouth closes and you look at him again, but this time your eyes are widened a fraction in surprise. Anthony’s shock matches yours, and Freddy’s gaze flickers from Anthony over to you briefly, and in that short instance he can tell you’re silently asking what he’s doing.

“You’d do that?” Anthony’s question, voiced with skepticism and complemented by a raised brow, steals back Freddy’s attention.

Freddy shrugs. “Yeah, man.”

Mary had accompanied him to this shop in the past, giving him a ride so he didn’t have to take extra time using public transport. And whenever she’d been here, Anthony had been positively enamored. If one were to point it out, he’d vehemently deny it, but to Freddy, it had been glaringly obvious, almost embarrassingly so. He wonders if Mary noticed it too, and concludes she probably had. From what he can remember, their interactions had been fairly amicable, so perhaps this seemingly insane suggestion isn’t actually that insane.

Anthony braces his hands on the edge of the counter, staring down at both of you and seriously considering the offer. You wait with bated breath for his decision, at the end of your rope now and if this didn’t work, well, nothing would and then, then, it would be time to throw in the towel.

The bell jingles again as a customer enters and it startles you, causing you to flinch slightly, and Freddy catches the jolt in his peripherals. He chuckles at your jumpiness, and the melting away of the tension of the last several seconds prompts Anthony to finally come to a decision.

“Okay,” he states.

Your eyes light up and the smile Freddy likes seeing so much is back on your face. He forces himself to look away before he’s caught staring, and he looks at Anthony and joins you in thanking him profusely, interspersing the string of gratitude with phrases like You’re awesome, dude and You’re the best employee we know. Anthony waves it off and says I’m the only employee you know but he’s grinning a little so you know he’s not annoyed.

Other people are beginning to come into the store, some of them your age, for they had all made their way here as well after school was dismissed, and Anthony moves the conversation along, the bell continuing to chime in the background. “Was that all you guys needed? I got a full shop and still have to take inventory for tonight.”

“Yes, totally.” Freddy nods.

“We’ll get out of your hair now,” you add.

And as the two of you make your leave, in high spirits and practically buzzing with excitement because the day you’d been waiting months for (though it had felt much longer) is just around the bend, Freddy tosses over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow!”

On the walk to the subway station, you ask if Mary would be okay with what Freddy had done. That’s when Freddy realizes he never did recount to you those times she had come to the store with him and how much Anthony had taken a liking to her. He fills you in during the trip to his house, and at the end of it, remarks that he thinks Mary will be just fine.

The next day at 4:19 PM, the two of you are sitting on the floor in Freddy’s bedroom, eyes glued to the screen and fingers flying over the controllers. The sound effects floating out from the speakers is forced to compete with the loud clacking of buttons, and it would be for a while yet, for it’s Friday, and as far as either of you is concerned, this is how your Friday afternoon and evening will be spent.

Between levels, you hit pause to take a few minutes’ break, stretching your backs and clenching and unclenching your hands, for they had begun to strain with how hard you gripped the controllers. The house is steadily filling with noise as the others return, and it reminds Freddy to ask if you’re staying for dinner. You say sure, and he says he thinks he might be able to convince Rosa and Victor to order pizza. It’s the perfect gaming food, after all he reasons.

A breeze wafts in from the open window and it prompts you to take a deep breath, chest expanding and then shrinking with your exhale. The exclusive collectible figurine, a PVC recreation of the game’s main character, sits between you both, next to the sodas you had picked up on the walk here. You lean over to pick it up and hold it out to Freddy.

He knows what you’re implying by doing so and merely shakes his head, gently pushing your hand, and thus the figurine, back in your direction. “No, keep it.”

“But you’re the one who convinced Anthony to get it for us.”

“Hey, you softened him up though,” he shoots back, and then, with a grin, he continues, “It was… a team effort.”

At this comment, you mirror his grin, lowering your arm and setting the figurine back down. “Well, we make a great team.” You don’t say anything after this, but Freddy, still surveying you closely, can tell you want to, so he calls attention to it himself. He has a sneaking suspicion he knows exactly what you want to ask.

“Did you want to flip a coin?”

Immediately you nod, a smile creeping onto your face and it’s contagious. Freddy’s smiling too and he chuckles and says Let me just find one and he rifles through his pocket for some spare change. You’d feel more comfortable if you ended up keeping the figurine after a coin toss, to keep it fair, and Freddy is willing to indulge this because even if you call it wrong and by the rules of the game, the figurine comes into his possession instead, he’ll just sneak it into your backpack before you go home.

“All right…” Having produced a quarter, he curls his hand into a loose fist, then rests it atop his thumbnail. He flicks his thumb and the coin clinks quietly, and both your gazes follow as it flies straight up, spinning over and over—heads, tails, heads, tails… “Call it.”

#freddy freeman x reader #freddy freeman imagine #shazam x reader #shazam imagine #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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swordmeetssorcery · 4 years

Text

Getting Out Of Town

“I hear you’re the one to see for getting things out of the city gates without mayor or baron being the wiser.”

The man had approached literally hat in hand. Middle aged and thick in the middle, sweating through his coarsely woven clothes, he stood by the table, wringing his hands in his cap. The one he addressed occupied a corner table along with a handful of well dressed but rough looking folk. Their conversation stopped and they turned as one to glare at the newcomer who realized he’d apparently made some breach of etiquette.

A woman with scars on her face as well as her knuckles reached for her dagger as she growled “You have a loose tongue, baker. Yes, I know who you are; I’ve seen you. Aefsheen, would you like me to remove that tongue before it does any damage?”

“No, Danniven. I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Well… yet, anyway. Friends, give me the table, please. Danniven, do please keep an eye pointed this way, though.” As the others left the table, the mustachioed and goateed half elf with the purple eyes and shoulder length blonde hair motioned to the chair recently vacated by the sullen Danniven.

“First things first. Never talk openly about any business that can get a person thrown into gaol or dungeon. Danniven’s less friendly than I, but more friendly than some. You’ll save yourself a lot of grief to remember that. As to my business, it’s mine to know. I don’t know where you get your information, but for argument’s sake let’s say you’ve heard correctly. Who are you, aside from a baker, and why are you trying to move pastries out of the city gates under the noses of our fine watchmen?”

“Oh, sir! I do apologize – I swear upon my life I meant no harm. I’m Orthis Greenleaf, and it’s just that I’m quite desperate, you see. It’s not my baked goods I’m looking to sneak out of the city. Have you ever smuggled people?”

Aefsheen’s hand dropped to the dagger on his belt. “Fuck off. I don’t work with slavers. Leave now, and be quick about it lest I let Danniven have her way after all – she hasn’t spilled blood in so long she’s antsy. Or I may skewer you myself.”

“Sir, no. Nononono…

It’s my own son, sir.”

“I’m intrigued. Continue, but stop calling me ‘sir’. I’m no lord.”

Greenleaf stammered on “Of course, Mr. Aefsheen. My boy, he meant no harm, y’see. There was a youth; barely begun to have a peach’s worth of fuzz on his chin, and he was stuffing sweet rolls in his pockets and ran from the shop. Well, of course my boy Errod ran after him – we can’t afford to feed thieves; we barely support ourselves most days. Well, he caught up with the kid and gave him a sound whopping about the ears and retrieved our merchandise, what hadn’t been smashed flat in the pursuit and scuffle.”

“Completely understandable. What’s the problem?” Aefsheen interjected.

“Yeah, well. Turns out the young rascal’s noble born. Was just out stealing sweets for a lark. Found out what happens when you get caught with another man’s property down in our part of town, eh? Well, by the time he gets home, he has the story all twisted to say that he’d merely complained about the flatness of the rolls and that my boy thrashed him over the insult. Of course he had his squashed ‘evidence’ in hand to back up his case, so his lordship father talked to his friend the judge, and they’ve sentenced my boy to a year in the dungeon, but they say they’ll send him to the headsman’s block if he doesn’t show himself within two days.

Mr. Aefsheen, he’s only fifteen himself, and no thug nor thief. He’s only ever played children’s games and worked in the family bakery. He won’t survive a year there, especially knowing he did nothing wrong.

I’ve heard tell of sanctuary settlements where one can pay an entry fee and hide away until matters like this are either settled or forgotten about. Is this true? Do you know where one is? Could you get my boy there?”

Aefsheen took a long draught of his mead, thinking it over. The story sounded plausible. True, the man could be a spy sent by the guard. But that seemed an excessive amount of trouble to catch one smuggler in a city full of larger threats. Plus the man didn’t seem like a spy – he’d nearly shit himself when confronted by Danniven, and still seemed nervous. The half elf was inclined to believe the story. Plus, he hadn’t had a job in a while, and his resources were dwindling. He had a lifestyle and image to maintain, after all. He was inclined to take the gamble. Then again, as the man had said, he had limited resources. How would he be able to pay both Aefsheen and the Sanctuary Guild?

“Alright, Orthis. Again, purely for the sake of conversation, let’s say I’m the kind of man to do the job you need. You do realize it’s not charity work, don’t you? And, hypothetically speaking of course, if these sanctuaries were to be more than rumor, well, they’d definitely cost money as well. You yourself stated you do well to support your family most days. How would you propose to pay?”

“I was hoping to work out a sort of barter arrangement, to be honest. Mr. Aefsheen, I could provide you food for free. If you can save my boy from the chopping block or the dungeon, I’d feed you for life if that’s what you demand. As for those that would hide Errod, I do have a bit of coin saved aside. I’ll send it with him and hope that it’s enough.”

Aefsheen took another pull on his goblet, and motioned the serving girl to bring him another and one for Orthis. Free food for life seemed a good deal if the baker and his family could live up to it. Sure, he traveled most of the time, but having food provided for his mother would surely ease his expenses quite a bit.

“Orthis, I can’t speak for the Sanctuary Guild, but as for my payment, I believe we can work something out. Now, before we get into the particulars, I want to warn you that although I travel and am away most of the time, if at any time you inform on me to the guard, or to anyone, or in any way try to renege on our arrangement, Danniven will pay a midnight visit to you and your family. Now, let’s put aside that serious bit and enjoy a drink while we iron out the details.”

It took a couple of days’ worth of inquiries and bribes, but Aefsheen was able to confirm the baker’s story. A local minor nobleman apparently wanted the boy’s head on a stick. Upon obtaining that information, he met with Danniven to put a plan in motion.

Orthis and Errod walked out of the bakery in the dim, predawn light, Errod carrying a small bindle of clothing under his arm and Orthis pushing a cart full of various loaves of bread and sweets. Aefsheen stood by a large covered wagon, wearing a traveler’s cloak over simple and rugged clothing, looking much more like a wagoner than he had when Orthis last saw him. “All right, gentlemen, if you’ll follow me to the back here. There we go, young lad. Up into the wagon with you.”

Orthis and Errod looked inside the wagon and took in its contents: assorted cookware hanging from hooks on the framework of the cover, a couple of rolls of bedding tucked into a corner, a bundle of what looked to be flatware and drinking vessels in another corner. Sturdily built floor with broad benches along the sides. “What if the guards happen to look inside for him? Are you just going to cover him with this load of bread?” Orthis seemed dubious.

Aefsheen laughed “Well, in a manner of speaking, yes.” He climbed up past Errod, and fidgeted with a nail in the floor by the bedrolls. Very subtly, a trapdoor lifted ever so slightly in the floor. Aefsheen caught the edge of it with his fingertips and lifted it, revealing a hidden cargo space just big enough that two adults could lie down inside it and almost be comfortable. “Errod will be just fine in here for an hour or so. We’ll load the bread into the wagon and no one will give it a second glance. Once we’re out of sight of the gates, I’ll let him out and he can ride in the back until I’m sure I wasn’t followed, then he can move up front with me and ride in the open air.”

“What if you are stopped and questioned, though?” “Orthis, this is far from my first time passing through those gates with contraband. I have a legitimate cargo for them to see, so there’s really no worry about me being detained. Just in case, however, I will have an unseen escort to the gates. You haven’t even noticed your old pal Danniven in the shadows across the street, have you? Or the friends accompanying her, for that matter. It’ll be fine. Also…” He lifted the driver’s seat bench to reveal the storage space underneath it, and pulled up the hilt of his rapier. “I’ll wear this along with my dagger once we’re outside the city and free from legal restraint. I also have a bow and a quiver of arrows in there which ride in the holder you can see beside the seat, so I’m not worried about bandits, either. Now, just remember to deliver the fee to this address.” Aefsheen handed him a slip of paper. “I’ll rarely be there, but that’s where the food is to go every morning. Avoid being seen or talking to the lady who lives there, but if you’re ever asked about payment, just say it’s been taken care of. And remember, she’s watched, so keep your bargain.

“Now, Errod, into the box with you, while your father and I bury you in bread.” Aefsheen laughed, but neither Orthis nor Errod seemed to appreciate the use of the word “bury”. Father and son said their goodbyes and embraced before the younger climbed into the hidden hold, clutching his bindle. Orthis handed him a small bag of coins. “Hopefully this will be enough to buy you lodging for a bit, son.” Once the trapdoor was back in place, Orthis could no longer make out its outline, despite knowing where to look.

Within a few minutes, the wagon was loaded with baskets of bread and sweet rolls. Aefsheen shook Orthis’ hand and reassured him that the boy would be fine. He climbed up to the driver’s seat and shook the reins, and off they went down the cobblestone street, as the morning sky reddened into dawn. Orthis just barely saw the movement in the shadows across the street, moving off in the same direction as the wagon.

As he expected, at the gate, the guardsmen merely waved him through – just another traveler leaving the city. They didn’t even bat an eye when he stopped to drape the baldric holding his sword over his shoulder – it was a perfectly routine sight to them. Once past a rise in the road, he pulled over and moved enough of the bread to open the trapdoor and let the boy out of hiding. Aside from frazzled nerves and minor bruising from the rough cobblestone streets, Errod was fine. Once they passed the first crossroad, Aefsheen invited the boy to move up front and get some air along with his first glimpse of the world beyond the gates of Oakyard.

Errod marveled at the sights of the land: wide open farmland, as far as he could see on either side of the road, being tilled by men behind donkeys or mules pulling plows, dotted here and there with small thickets of forest. He saw various animals from his perch on the driver’s seat - various birds, both game and predators, as well as deer and rabbits, none of which he had ever seen outside a butcher’s shop. Once they saw a small group of men hunkered by a fire along the side of the road. Aefsheen took the bow out of its holder and laid it across his lap as a precaution, and handed his dagger to Errod. They kept a wary eye on the ragtag group, who turned out to merely be travelers stopping for a rest, or at least bandits who’d decided the modest looking wagon wasn’t worth the risk the bow presented. At any rate, the pair rolled on past without incident and shortly returned the bow to its holder and the dagger to its sheath on Aefsheen’s belt.

As the sun began to set on the western horizon, Aefsheen pulled the wagon off the road and behind a small stand of trees so as not to be noticed from the highway. They built a small fire and Aefsheen handed a bedroll to Errod. They ate a supper made from preserved meats that Aefsheen had stored away, augmented by bread baked early that morning. The night passed without incident, and they broke their fast with some of the sweet pastries.

The Great Road they traveled was part of the vast network of such highways commissioned by the ancient King Rothnik to connect the capitals of the five baronies after conquering neighboring kings and making them barons under his rule. His idea was to make the transportation of trade goods and troops easier and quicker, and it worked fairly well. At least when it was maintained and patrolled. Both of which fluctuated from barony to barony and generation to generation. At any rate, the large flat stones used to pave it made for much easier going than a regular dirt road. By the end of the second day, they came to the North River.

As they approached the North River crossing, they saw the village of Stickbridge on the southern bank. Stickbridge was not much more than a way stop for travelers and a supply point for local farmers and craftsmen. It was getting late, and Errod was afraid Aefsheen might stop in town for the night, and voiced his concern over being noticed as a fugitive.

“Relax. It’s some local man with money who wants you, not the Baron. That nobleman is unknown here, and his reach doesn’t extend this far. Nobody here would even know about you. And with no reward, they wouldn’t care, either. But don’t fret – I plan to drive on through this town anyway. But if all goes well, we won’t have to camp another night, though.”

The Great Road served as Stickbridge’s main street, and Aefsheen hardly slowed the wagon as they rolled through town ignoring both the gawking stares of farmers and the hawking calls of tavern keepers trying to draw business.

The sun was setting as they exited the village, and in the waning light, they could just make out the edge of a lake off to the east. As they came upon a flat section of ground that looked hardened and rutted from frequent use, Aefsheen turned off toward the lake. Errod wanted to ask him about the turn, but a look at Aefsheen’s tensed jaw told him the question was likely best left unasked.

“There’s said to be a safehouse near the lake. I’ll be honest with you – I believe it’s here, but I’ve never visited it myself, and I don’t know how welcoming they are. However, providing sanctuary is their business, so they’ll talk to us at least. I just don’t know if that small sack of coin your father gave you will meet their fee. We’ll find out.” A glance over at the boy showed he was spooked at the thought of not being allowed in. “It’ll work out one way or another, Errod. I made a deal with your father to get you to safe hiding, and if it’s not here, I’ll find a place for you elsewhere. You don’t get far in my business by not honoring agreements."

They were making their way along a path that was barely more than earth packed hard from hooves and boots between two wagon ruts. Errod could barely see twenty feet in front of them in the gloom, but Aefsheen’s elf-descended eyes could make out some sort of fortification ahead, just past the trees and before the lakeshore.

Even as prepared as he thought he was, Aefsheen’s sharp eyes didn’t see the man until he stepped out into the road. At the sight of the chainmail clad dwarf, Aefsheen instinctively reached for his rapier. When an arrow from an unseen bow struck the side of the wagon, he released the hilt before drawing the blade. The dwarf stood steady, war pick hanging loosely in his relaxed grip. “Who are you, and what do you want here?” demanded the bearded warrior blocking their progress and taking a step closer to them.

“I’m called Aefsheen Silverthorn of Oakyard, and my traveling companion would prefer to remain nameless for the moment, if that suffices.” Aefsheen answered, then continued speaking in a sort of language Errod couldn’t make out. It was odd to him, because he knew about half the words coming out of Aefsheen’s mouth, but the phrasing and context made no sense to him whatsoever. It was very confusing and a bit dizzying to try to decipher. The dwarf answered, and they went back and forth for a few minutes before he stepped forward and retrieved the arrow from the wagon and slipped back into the cover of the foliage.

“What was that all about?” Errod inquired. Aefsheen explained: “There’s a secret tongue, nearly universal throughout the kingdom of Pentalohr among folk of certain professions. It’s based on the Common language, but it uses misdirection and invented words so that the uninitiated can’t eavesdrop on private discussions. Had I spoken plainly, we may very well have been buried in these woods or sunk in that lake by morning. As it is, I’ve gained us progress to the gates at least. Let’s see what awaits us there.”

As they exited the wood, they saw a massive, walled estate ahead of them, against the backdrop of the lake beyond. They could make out the rooftop of a large central mansion along with several other buildings. There seemed to be room within the fortification for more buildings that perhaps just weren’t tall enough to be seen above the wall. And fortification seemed to be the right word for it. It was no fortress to withstand a military siege, by any means, but it had high walls, at least fifteen feet tall, with arrow slits flanking the massive front gate. The tops of the wall had broken glass set into the stone to prevent scalers from easily climbing over, and at the base of the wall was a trench filled with sharp brambles.

Aefsheen’s sharp eyes just caught a glint of reflected light off the edge of an arrowhead being aimed from inside one of the archer’s posts as a lone man, finely dressed and unarmed, strode out to the middle of the bridge that spanned the trench.

Speaking plainly, this newcomer said “State your business, and be quick. I was about to have my dinner.” “I don’t need sanctuary for myself – I’m merely transporting the lad here. Although if you’d allow me, I’d gladly pay you for a night’s lodging and a meal rather than go back and have something surely inferior in Stickbridge. “ “We aren’t an inn or pub here. We provide sanctuary from hunters, whether it be for a night or a year. I’m sure you know our fee. No? Well, then: half of your valuables, and you help with day to day labor while here. Open your wagon and let me see the contents.” Aefsheen led the man to the back of the wagon, careful not to let his hands stray too close to sword or dagger. He opened the flap to display the baskets of bread and pastries.

“In addition to a meager amount of coins, the lad works for his father as a baker, and brings this load of loaves, rolls, and pastries to supplement payment.”

The man addressed Errod “And why do you seek sanctuary, boy? What have you done that’s so bad? Tell me the truth, and hold nothing back – I’ll know if you lie. I ask because those who come here are usually a bit more hardened and weathered than you appear to be.”

“Sir, my name is Errod and I beat a boy who was stealing our wares. He turned out to be the son of a noble in my city and lied to his father about the circumstances of the fight. The nobleman has a judge friend who has sentenced me to a year in the dungeon, or beheading if I didn’t turn myself in by dawn two days ago. My father scraped together all the coin our family had that wasn’t owed to suppliers for the bakery and sent me with Mr. Aefsheen here to find safety away from Oakyard.”

“Aesfsheen, is it? How did you get the boy past the gates? If they wanted his head on a pike, surely they guards were told to look for him. Did you just pile baked goods on top of him and get lucky?”

“I don’t think they expected Errod to have the means to leave the city. They didn’t bat an eye at me at the gate. Besides, I have ways of moving things from place to place unseen “. Aefsheen replied with a crooked grin.

“Show me. Now, before the sun is all the way down. Don’t waste my time, traveler.”

Aefsheen, thinking about the arrowhead he’d spied earlier, felt he had no option, so he moved the bread aside and flipped the catch to reveal the hidden compartment. He explained that since the space didn’t extend to the edges of the wagon, one would practically have to crawl underneath to notice it, and gate guards rarely were motivated enough to get their uniforms muddy. He also pointed out that the benches along the sides of the interior were hollow and that most people didn’t even think to check them. “For particularly valuable cargo, I’ll cover the floor of the wagon with something distasteful and sometimes smelly. Like leaking barrels of fish, or manure. And for those that do insist on checking, well…” He patted his scabbard. “I haven’t lost a cargo yet. I may have had to find a different route, but I’ve always delivered.”

The man held out his hand “Aefsheen, my name is Celigg. I’m the Senior Guildmaster at this house. I’m impressed with your ingenuity and I’d like to invite you to be my dinner guest and to stay the night after all.

Young Errod, do you bake, or do you just help haul dough?”

“Oh, I’m no apprentice, sir. I’ve been working in the family bakery since I could walk. I didn’t serve a formal apprenticeship, but I know enough to run a bakery myself. Pa’s even started teaching me the accounting part a bit. I know my way around a kitchen, too. Can’t stuff a roll with sausage or bacon if you don’t know how to cook those, eh?” “Errod, this may be your lucky day. For one thing, we’ll take all this bread as your payment. If you stay on as our guest, your work will start the day after tomorrow. However, as it happens, our old cook died last week. Nothing sinister; he was an old man. But it does leave us shorthanded in the kitchen. If you’re interested, and if you cook as well as you say, we may take you on. Curb your excitement, boy. You don’t even know what this offer means yet. It’s no job you can wander away from in a few months’ time. It will require a longstanding commitment to the Guild. Don’t worry yourself over it tonight, though. Eat and relax. One of my guild brothers will explain everything to you tomorrow and you’ll have plenty of time to think it over.

As they ate a hot dinner of freshly hunted pheasant and vegetables grown on guild grounds, Aefsheen took in the richly appointed dining room and furnishings. “Benefits of the station” according to Celigg and his two co-guildmasters. They explained to Aefsheen that each house of the Sanctuary Guild was governed by a triumvirate of masters: a spell caster, a man with strong ties to the criminal underground, and a warrior. This provided each house with connections to a local network as well as coordination of both physical and magical defense. They seemed very interested in Aefsheen and his wagon. He explained how he’d designed it with the help of the master of his local thieves’ guild in Oakyard, where he’d grown up.

“Aefsheen, we have a package we need delivered to Seaspray. It needs to be delivered in secret. We’ll provide you with the address and the name of whom to ask for when you arrive. Do you think you can do that?” “Of course I can. In addition to my fee, I’ll need some sort of decoy cargo. I’ll look very suspicious coming into a trade hub with no merchandise. If you don’t have anything, you can pay me extra to cover purchasing something along the way.”

The guildmasters at first seemed taken aback that he’d ask for extra money, then the obvious warrior of the three threw his head back and laughed. “You have some large stones, boy! I think I like you.”

And thus began Aefsheen Silverthorn’s association with the Sanctuary Guild.

#fantasy #sword and sorcery #epic fantasy #rogues #wizards #wizardry #sorcery #swordplay #swords #fantasy fiction

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blessuswithblogs · 4 years

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The Best Games of the Decade, By My Estimations

With only a good month (ACTUALLY LIKE A GOOD 24 HOURS HA HA I WROTE THIS BACK IN NOVEMBER) or so left of the 2010s (we are regrettably not quite far along enough to really start giving them jaunty names like "the Roaring Twenties" yet, but soon we will be free of this chronological no man's land) I find my thoughts turning to my enduring hobby slash interest slash everlasting shame: video games. While a decade is ultimately a fairly arbitrary point of reference, in the business of video gamesdom, ten years is a small eternity and some very significant games have graced us since the clock struck midnight on January 1st, 2010.

I might still be too young for this kind of nostalgia, granted, but I can't help but think about the game experiences I've had in the last ten years that have been altogether Important to Me. I am less interested in ranking these titles than I am in exploring why they made such an impact on me, and why, if we were to borrow the esteemed verbiage of one Sid Meyer, they stood the test of time. ...or less so, if they came out more recently. Sometimes on these lists I sort of scrimp and scrabble to actually fill it up with enough games and I have to sort of cheat and put things on there I haven't really played, but fortunately I am not so destitute that I have only been able to play one new game a year since this decade began. To that end, this is more of a personal list than usual, that will have less to do with "well the game was kind of a Big Deal........" and more to do with "well the game was kind of a Big Deal to ME."

Dark Souls The First:

This game will likely find its way onto many such lists in the coming days, because it is such a singular thing. Honestly, I would put Demon's Souls on here too, but that was actually like. 2009ish? At any rate, its spiritual successor was a marked improvement in most ways, expanding upon the core design tenets that made the unassuming FROM software ps3 title such an unexpected success: deliberate gameplay that demanded players go slow and respect both enemies and environment until they were sufficiently skilled and experienced, boss fights against extremely memorable monsters and also sometimes trees, strange asynchronous multiplayer that worked in spite of itself, and a meticulously designed world filled with oddities, grotesqueries, mysteries, and tragedies. Dark Souls was a phenomenon. "The Dark Souls of _____" is dig at gormless games journalists that endures and is relevant to this day. It created a whole subgenre that remains fairly untapped because of how much of a gamble it is to really go in on what made Dark Souls good in a game without that kind of name recognition and marketing blitz, and it changed the way the zeitgeist thought about video games in a lot of ways.

Inscrutability is an incredibly important part of the Souls experience. Abandon all hope of transparency, ye who enter here, because you're not getting it. The games were designed with the intent of being a sort of collaborative community puzzle, where players who stumbled on secrets and treasures in the game could leave down messages for others to alert them to hidden prizes - or just try to bait somebody to jump down a bottomless pit. Patches does that. A lot. It's kind of this thing. There is a very specific mood and atmosphere that Miyazaki and company were going for with these games that creates a sort of artistic catch-all for complaints I would level at basically anything else. "These weapons are poorly balanced." Yep. It's not really trying to be balanced. "Half of these systems are unexplained and nonsensical." Oh boy are they ever. "A giant man-sized baby just invaded my world and tried to kill me with a ladle." Yes, yes he did. The bizarre, fever dream ambiance of Dark Souls is enhanced by all of this. It will put a lot of people off and I can't really say "oh you just don't get it." because like no in any other game this would be bullshit nonsense for idiots. Souls just kind of makes it work by being compellingly baffling.

This murkiness also serves to highlight one of the core conceits of the game: the simple joy of greater mastery. Dark Souls starts you out with very little. You have nothing, know nothing, are nothing, and all the npcs you meet are pretty sure you're going to fuck off and die pretty much as soon as you break line of sight. On your first time through, that's probably true, too. The skeletons in the graveyard are infamous. As you claw your way through the game, as you learn more about it, you start to see measurable progress getting made. What was once a bunch of very tired men in armor giving you unsettlingly sinister laughs is now the outline of a story, vague but extant, with more waiting to be discovered. Where you used to flail around and die to random hollows in the undead burg, now you dance circles around them and paste them in one or two hits with your fancy weapons (or enormous wooden club, depending). A world that was once borderline impossible to actually traverse gradually opens up and becomes more familiar. In Dark Souls, death serves a purpose, and that purpose is not actually to block your progress. Its purpose is to get you to learn the game and get better at it. It's actually very player empowering in a way a lot of 'press F to pay respects' theme park rides are not. I'm probably treading a very thin line between thoughtful analysis (ha) and "you cheated not only the game, but yourself." here, but I'm going to stand firm in my belief that the way Souls games endeavor to make you improve yourself over time is a legitimate and meritorious way to design a game.

Of course, Dark Souls the First is very rough around the edges in spots. The second half of the game is somewhat infamous for being unpolished and kind of slapdash. The online was questionable, the PC port was laughable until the community went in and fixed it, Lost Izalith is a whole fucking thing, the works. The fact that it's so good in spite of the rough spots is, I think, what made it such a singular game. I'm one of those hopelessly sentimental idiot bitches who thinks that things that are imperfect are kind of charming and compelling in ways that very cookie cutter, by the book, technically competent but aesthetically bankrupt things are not. Miyazaki had a vision when he made this game, and that vision created an enduring legacy. That's worthy of respect in a way not many games are. It's messy and flawed but those flaws are just kind of endearing because they're proof that the developers were trying to push boundaries and be ambitious and make something new and interesting.

Dark Souls The Second:

Dark Souls 2 has a kind of weird reputation in the online net-o-sphere. There are as many opinions about this game as there are people who have played it. Sometimes more, honestly. I spent a lot of time kind of convinced it wasn't that good until some things clicked and I realized it was HELLA good. That you kind of need the DLC to get the whole picture is... unfortunate, but such is the age we live in. Going into this game, I thought that a second Dark Souls was unnecessary. The first had ended satisfactorily, and I had no desire to see FROM get tied down to the world of Lordran. The quote B Team unquote that developed 2 seemed to agree with me, and created what is one of the most metacognitive games I have ever played. Now, let's not get ahead of ourselves. When I say metacognitive, I do not mean it in the usual facile sense of, say, whatever Jonathan Blow has churned out recently that beats you over the head with the fact that you're playing a video game and you should probably feel bad about it or the way Doki Doki Literature Club does the Epic Subversions! of visual novels by trying to convince you that the game knows it is a game, but failing because it cannot overcome the limitations that it has as a static, unchanging lump of code. Dark Souls 2 aims higher. And you know me - I always try to aim high.

Dark Souls 2 deals with cycles. Most notably, cycles of futility. Cycles that are so enduring and perpetual that it matters not how you choose to resolve it, it will simply keep going no matter what you do. Drangleic is a hollow simulacrum of Lordran - and that is exactly the point. The familiarity and design consistencies between the two games is intentional. The curse of life is the curse of want. It took me a long time to really understand what Dark Souls 2 meant by that. The World of Dark Souls 2 is a sort of unending purgatory. Thousands upon thousands of undead have made the journey, linked the fire, perhaps chose to become the Dark Lord instead, only for some other undying fool to go and light it anyway. Each time, a new order is built upon the bones of the old, and in time, joins its forebears in the ashes of history. When I beat the game the first time and felt that the ending was unsatisfying, I failed to realize that was, again, the point. If the game had shipped with all endings in it, I think I would have been less miffed, but, well, the curse of life is the curse of downloadable content. If you choose to take the throne, link the fire, you have essentially accomplished nothing. Another age of Fire will begin, and then end, and so on and on into the ages, an unending litany of suffering and violence, because people cannot let go of what once was. They seek and scrabble to claim scraps of glory in a systemic nightmare of self-fulfilling prophecies and false dichotomies. When Aldia eventually arrives with the DLC packs, things really start to take shape.

Dark Souls 2 is a commentary on itself. An admission of the futility of trying to recapture the unique spark of the first game, and the necessity of doing something -different-. The playerbase hated it on release. It was both not enough like the first game and too much like the first game. It wasn't like, reviewbombing on metacritic hate, but the consensus rapidly became that 2 was just worse than the first game and kind of a bummer, a half-hearted cashgrab by a "B Team" while the really talented developers worked on Bloodborne. So, basically, they proved 2's central thesis completely correct. A hollow cycle of just repeating and iterating on what has come before serves nobody. In the words of Straid of Olaphis, "it is all a curse." That is the true curse in Dark Souls 2. An undead might link the fire to try and preserve their fading sense of self and memory, but it is but a temporary measure, a prolonging of greater suffering by bowing to an order designed to oppress. Before the Ringed City was ever a thing, Agdyne and Vendrick were here telling us about how Gwyn was so covetous of his own perceived right to rule that he cursed all of humankind into a twisted state of mutually exclusive ideas. Die as a mortal in the flame, or endure as an undead husk in the darkness, bereft of heart and soul. Or... does it even matter? All of this has happened before. It will all happen again.

Those who slave away eternally under this paradigm are doomed to never find peace or fulfillment, because it was not designed that way. Gwyn's fear was so great that he got entangled in his own karmic vortex, reincarnating over and over again with his other lord friends in slightly different forms and circumstances that would continue, eternally, to make the same mistakes in the pursuit of the same misguided goals. Aldia, the Scholar of the First Sin, is presented as one of the few beings in this entire misbegotten affair with an inkling of what is really going on. Both he and Vendrick knew that Drangleic was destined for the same dreg heap as every other civilization built upon the power of the soul, but all of their efforts to prevent this fall were for naught, because they were all confined by the same twisted system in which there can be no change or joy. It is only after Vendrick loses his nerve entirely and fades away into a mindless hollow and Aldia loses everything in his increasingly unhinged and ethically questionable experiments that he realizes that they were doing it all wrong.

I think I've probably gone on too long at this point so I'll try to be brief: the "true" ending of the game, made available after all 3 DLCs were released, involves gathering the power of truly mighty souls in a crown and using them as a sort of... loophole. The empowered crown does not cure the curse of undeath. What it does is prevent -hollowing-. The degradation of heart and mind. And after the final battle, you leave the throne behind. But there is a very important difference here from the Dark Lord ending of the first game. By finding this loophole, and rejecting Gwyn's order entirely, you and you alone have broken free from the endless cycle of suffering, and by doing so, perhaps gained the knowledge necessary to take the first steps into forging a new path entirely. Beyond the reach of Light, beyond the scope of Dark.

So yeah basically it's like Dark Souls the First, with some improvements and changes and what have you, so it's got the same fun to play deliberate explorey dark holey kind of thing going on, it just takes the concepts and runs with it to places I never would have expected a game to ever go. It is legitimately one of the only metanarratively aware games I have played (that I can remember, anyway) that sticks the landing, because it is not obnoxiously explicit about it. Undertale was fun and a worthwhile game by any reasonable metric, but it falls into the same trap as all the others: when you are acknowledged as the player of a game in anything more than a briefly comedic bit of 4th wall breaking, any hope of cleverness or thoughtfulness goes out the window, because it brings to light an ironclad truth of the medium: you, the player, are just as constrained in what you can do as the NPCs in the game, who are also fake. When they start haranguing you about about brotherkilling or being a cheating visual novel boyfriend or possibly girlfriend or what have you, it's just. Meaningless. It is a contrivance of the developer, specifically included in the game as a programmed possibility designed to be experienced.

Dark Souls 2 gets around this by not engaging with the player on that level of metanarrative. It deals much more in metaphor and allegory. It's not, like, especially subtle, but it is subtle enough to let your mind draw parallels without immediately blaring at you in comic sans "THIS IS A VIDEO GAME, KID" and taking you out of it entirely. It's a fine line to walk. A barrier between worlds has to be maintained for these stories to work. I'm the kind of player who will never do a renegade run of Mass Effect because I hate being mean and nasty for no reason, even to bits of code in a game, because I try to engage with it all in good faith and do my best to let myself buy into the illusion that these bits of code are characters with thoughts and feelings. When an angry flower man pops up and says "OOHOOHOO LOOKS LIKE YOU JUST RELOADED THE GAME BECAUSE YOU KILLED SOMEBODY" my first thought isn't "wow fucked up..." it's "oh well there goes my suspension of disbelief" because like. If you're going to call me out on that then fuck I can just go into the code and make you say "there is a frightful hobgoblin haunting europe, and its name is ligma" and like. Yep. Bow before my mastery. I guess. I don't want to get into a slapfight like that with Toby Fox. He seems like a nice person.

I don't know maybe this is just something unique to me, and other people can deal with these stories without immediately becoming depressed by the deeply artificial nature of it all. It's complicated. I will say that I like Undertale a lot, but the reasons that I like it come very much from the character interactions, spritework, and music, and not the time Flowey closed my game. It's just the same pony island bullshit as its always been. "OooOOoOOoh uninstall the game or you're actually just going back and messing with events for your own perverse satisfactionNNNnNNnN" fuck off dipshit it's all fake garbage for idiot children and I am not causing a cartoon skeleton existential agony by considering that maybe I could play this fun game that I liked and payed cash dollars for again. Now, all this considered, my next game on the list might be surprising...

Nier: Automata

Okay so let's just get this out of the way. Nier does a very famous thing at the end when you get the true ending where you are given the choice to forfeit your saved data in order to help another player get past the final boss, which is... the credits. So how is this different? Well, for one thing, it's not like the central narrative conceit of the game. The sexy android psychodrama functions perfectly well without it. It's kind of its own thing. It's... an expression of hope, kind of. An admission that you -care- about the fates of these characters, in spite of being bits of code, because their personalities and their world and the way they interact are all compelling and endearing, and you would give up something of tangible worth and importance to maybe give them a chance for a better outcome in somebody else's game, too. It's a very strange thing that I can think of no real equivalent for. You even get to put a little personalized message on the extra shmup ship you send over to help some other player get through to the end. It's an act that... kind of exists outside of the story, but also kind of in it. I think the important thing here is that the conceit is that you are making this sacrifice to help somebody else, not because a small goat child said something Foreboding. It's a confirmation that if a game makes you feel things, makes you think, maybe it wasn't just a waste of time.

So enough about that. What about like the other 99% of the game? A lot of people in my peer group are super sweet on the original Nier: Gestalt game. I played through it. It was... okay. Like it absolutely had very charming characters and story and all of that but it was just kind of a slog to play through and I kind of wished the entire game was just that segment where you're playing a text adventure. Automata continues to have very charming characters and story and all of that, but it also actually like. It's fun? To hit the buttons? Like, that Platinum pedigree isn't just for show. It's not the most technical game they've ever made, but it's fun and varied (shmups! shmups!) and there's some fun character customization and you even have a self-destruct switch which is always hilarious. The real attraction is the narrative, visuals, and gorgeous music, but it's also just a solid swordswingy dodgy robot smashy time irrespective of that. So like. Yeah.

The story and characters are very interesting and well done and goes to some very dark and uncomfortable places sometimes about the nature of memory, artificial intelligence, the often arbitrary labels we give ourselves, and the implications of sexy robot men with no junk. The nice thing about Nier Automata is that the events in game are fairly straightforward and relayed in a way that people who don't compulsively watch lore videos can understand without too much difficulty, so I don't really need to go into a detailed summary of why it's genius because of tHe AlLeGoRy. It kind of speaks for itself, for the most part. Does 9S want to fuck 2B or destroy 2B? Maybe some other verb entirely! We may never know. Well, I do know. He wants to fuck her. That is obvious. But it does not preclude the other, which is a salient and disconcerting point the game tries to make with that whole sequence. 9S has really had a rough time of it, you know? All that stuff in his own game and then he pops up on the First only to get his face caved in by the Warrior of Darkness. Rotten luck.

Basically, Yoko Taro sets out to say some things with his strange brainchild about androids with very big butts, but when you think about it, the attractiveness of the YorHa androids is also kind of a statement, too. If you're building something in your image, wouldn't you want to make it as sexy as possible? I would. Like, if you could make your machine children smoking hot, why wouldn't you? It's only polite. Nobody wants to be an ugly robot. Maybe the machine lifeforms would be having a better time of it all if they weren't put in categories like "short stubby." Anyway. Saying things. He says things. The game is thought provoking and evocative and at times very very sad. I love to cry. More on that later. I feel like I'm coming up a little short on this after my small dissertation on Dark Souls 2, but sometimes you need to fuckin. Get that kind of thing off your chest. Automata is challenging, but not Souls 2 challenging, where you kind of have to look in all the nooks and crannies and paid DLC packs to really get what it's trying to say. Though I think you fight the president of Square Enix in one of the Nier DLCs. That's pretty intellectually formidable.

Bloodborne:

It is no secret that I love the Bloodborne. It's very fun, very tight, usually works right most of the time, blood vials are shit but what can you do, and is one of the most visually arresting games like, ever. Ever ever. Behold! A Paleblood Sky! indeed. It's got the Souls pedigree to make combat fun and challenging, but its also very squishy and visceral and kind of grody in a good way because it ties in heavily to the themes of what really separates people from "beasts" and how more often than not we're just fooling ourselves. We're all rancid beasts. Hunger makes monsters of us all. It is this thematic strength, and the uncommon aplomb with which the game takes a hard left turn into "wait what the fuck???" town, that I regard it so highly. It's a game with a lot to say, especially about our narrow view of "intelligence" and the imagined "right" it grants us to subjugate and victimize those we deem inferior. The Victorian setting is no accident - a lot of the horror in the game draws heavily from classic colonialist sentiment and the erroneous conviction that all things are there for the benefit of Mankind (Glory to them, see previous) that commonly defines that era. Also that architecture is some spooky shit I tell you what. Even when there isn't a large spider man with a brain for a head hanging off of it. There are those, in this game, by the way. You thought you were gonna deal with werewolves? Bitch your eyes have yet to open, strap the fuck in.

Bloodborne is the coveted "what a twist!" game I so laboriously search for. A game that expertly leads you to believe some things, then gradually shows you that you are a fucking wrong idiot baby and now there are mushroom men from mars running around casting magic missile at you. It gets this right in part because the clues were there all along, if you bothered to search for them. The first part of the game is fairly expected of what the promo material was all about, save for some weirdness with dreams and cryptic mutterings of "Paleblood." Then, you know, some shit starts getting wacky. You start running into giantass monster men clad in the trappings of the church. The NPCs you talk to start becoming more and more unhinged. Sometimes you will be randomly lifted bodily into the air and die and it is fucking alarming the first time I tell you what. Strange men with bags start appearing in random spots, and if they kill you, they don't actually kill you - they put you in the bag and kidnap you, the only way to reach a certain area of the game early. This hidden area is filled with more bagmen and some very angry giant pigs, because those are in this game too. Then you finally enter the big cathedral at the center of town and its lined with really odd looking statues of aliens and you touch a weird skull and you get a vision from the Mothercrystal about how to progress, and you tell the password to the gatekeeper, and he's like "ok cool get in here" but actually he is a fucking dessicated corpse and this isn't Dark Souls there ain't no undead here. Maybe. Are there?

Then you get into the Forbidden Woods and there are like, the weird mushroom men, if you go looking for them, and snakes, and really BIG snakes, and men who are made out of snakes and kind of give you weird nostalgic memories of Resident Evil 4 and the las plagas sphagetti heads. And there are more statues and giant fucking gravestones? That are really unnerving? And also if you went poking around you might have also met Patches again, who is back, but also a spider, and he'll show you how to get into college, except the college is in a nightmare and full of slime people, which is actually pretty normal now that I think about it, and then you can go out into ANOTHER nightmare, which is just another obnoxious poison swamp but the winter lanterns live there and those things are a fucking trip. Anyway you get to Bergynwerth eventually and there are weird insect guys and weird disheveled looking fellas that literally eat your brains if they get close and this awful npc hunter (the real horror of the night i tell you what) who casts fucking megaflare and you FINALLY get to the center of it all and jump into the lake except it's not the lake, it's actually like a fucking pocket dimension and there's just a big spider chilling out. You have to kill it to progress. And then when you do things just REALLY go to hell. And this is to say nothing of the Old Hunters DLC. This game is a fucking nightmare and it's great. Easily one of the scariest games ever made, genuinely frightening and weird and it doesn't just lose its edge when you realize the monster is a big goofy man with a flappy jaw. You are the monster, and that monster is a tiny squid baby. You're a squid now! Because you ate umbilical cords! Why!? I DON'T KNOW! INSIGHT, MOTHERFUCKER!

So what I just described is probably sounding completely absurd, random, and borderline early 2000s era monkeycheese style humor, but you gotta believe me, it is only absurd. It's actually very deliberately absurd. A lot of people will say that Bloodborne is one of the only games to get Lovecraft right, but I have actually read some of that dreck and I will say Bloodborne really only shares some aesthetic DNA and nomenclature with the racist tentacle man who ate nothing but canned beans. The themes are actually very different. Lovecraft wrote of a paradoxical contradictory world where Unspeakable Elder Things lurked behind every shadow, ready to emerge and destroy everything, but they were also very apathetic and noncommital about the whole thing. They didn't actually care that much either way, but they were still Bad, because they were weird and alien and inimicable to human life because of that foreign aspect. Like Nyarlathotep was originally envisioned as a travelling black guy who would go from town to town and show people some awesome inventions and shit and that was supposed to be evil. The dude's neuroses about race permeated -everything- he wrote.

On the other hand, Bloodborne takes a different tack. One of the central theses of the game is that the Great Ones are -not- evil. In fact, they're rather sympathetic by nature and will do what they can to help, if asked. The horror of the game comes not from the actions of the alien monstrosities who are actually nicer than most of the humans, but from what the human characters do in the pursuit of knowledge and power. Atrocities are committed by the dozen in some vague pursuit of higher understanding, against both the citizens of Yharnam and the supposed cosmic horrors themselves. This point is driven home by the fact that a number of the more alien entities you encounter in the game aren't actually hostile at all. Rom, the Vacuous Spider, will just chill out with you indefinitely at the Moonside Lake if you don't strike the first blow, and doesn't even really begin to actively defend herself until you prove yourself to be a determined murder machine. Ebrietas, the Daughter of the Cosmos, is found minding her own business in an out of the way corner of the Upper Cathedral Ward, mourning Rom after you, you know, killed her in cold blood. Again, she is completely non-hostile until you start shit. In the Old Hunters, Kos (or some say Kosm) is actually benevolent sort of mother goddess to the people of a small fishing hamlet. ...until the "scholars" of Bergynwerth murder her in the name of science, too.

All of the evil and horror and stomach-turning cruelty in Bloodborne comes from corrupt systems of power run rampant, not something as facile as the supposedly intrinsic malice of beings different from us. The terrors of the cosmos are nothing before the vile, willful depravity of mankind itself. That's the idea at the heart of it all. The Great Ones, who exist on a higher plane of existence, seem to have largely left this cruelty behind. Even the Moon Presence, the principle cause of the Hunter's Dream, is trying to help Laurence and Gherman - it's just that it's so different from humans, its idea of helping is a bit. Strange. It's this really fresh and unique take on the genre, this byzantine tragedy of miscommunication, good intentions, and mortal greed, that creates one of the vanishingly few games at are actually frightening. It doesn't even have to sacrifice being a good game to do it! No hiding in closets from the scourge of screen blur and heavy breathing here. In terms of gameplay, it's probably the most refined of quintet. I'm unsure if I should count Sekiro with them or not. It's a much different thing. Trick weapons and hunter's garb are iconic, extremely stylish, original, and honestly just fucking dope as hell. You've got a hammer that explodes when it hits things, a giant pizza cutter, a katana you coat with your own blood to empower, a gunrapier and a gunspear, a giant... wagon wheel... because Miyazaki just really likes those I guess, a bow that is also a sword, a giant fucking ship's cannon you just carry around with you, a portable flamethrower, an... eyeball, that shoots space rocks, for some reason. Like the weapon design and selection alone is worthy of considerable accolade. Bloodborne is fantastic, play it if you can.

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

I was a little bit kinda wishy washy on putting this on here, but I think overall that it deserves a spot. In terms of story and themes, it's honestly a bit whatever. It's Zelda. Don't be an asshole to your genius daughter who knows like ten times as much as you do about everything I guess. Prince Sidon is a nice fishman. Link is like, distressingly, "this is a kids game!!" hot when you put him in certain outfits. I'm pretty sure every configuration of sexuality interested in the act of boning probably at least went "hoo boy" when Link put on the gerudo outfit. That is, of course, not really enough to qualify for such a prestigious position as one of the best games of the decade. Where Breath of the Wild shines is its world design, music, and the masterful layer of melancholy it drapes everything in. The ruined land of Hyrule is beautiful and sad in equal measure, the vistas enhanced by a fantastic soundtrack with an incredibly rich personal voice. It takes a very certain kind of design philosophy, in my opinion, to create an open world that is actually meritorious and worthwhile and not just an excuse to spend a lot of time hoofing it through vast expanses of nothing interesting. There is enough raw Stuff in the land of Hyrule, from enemy encounters to happening upon NPCs to just finding something really weird and inexplicable that you feel compelled to check out, to justify the massive open world.

I think the enemy design in particular is worthy of some praise. The game gives you a whole lot of tools to tackle any given fight. Sometimes you can just whack something with your sword until either the enemy or the sword breaks and that will work fine. Other times, you can literally do the Tao Pai Pai thing from Dragonball and launch a treetrunk into the air, surf on it, and land it squarely in the face of some unsuspecting moblin. This is a very popular speedrun strat. The sheer amount of Weird Stuff you can do in the service of ultimately saving Hyrule is a lot of lot of LOT of fun, things not many other games would let you do. There's also something to be said for the moments where you're exploring, minding your own business, and find yourself face to face with something fearsome and big and dangerous, like a Lynel in the frozen north or one of the big cyclops guys. It's heartpounding and exciting and really hits that "oh hell yeah let's fuckin FIGHT" button. And fighting in Breath of the Wild is a hell of a lot of fun! Probably the most its been in any Zelda game. Skyward Sword please go away you're drunk this was never a good idea. To me, Breath of the Wild is kind of the platonic ideal of an open world fantasy fuck around game. That used to be Skyrim, but BotW sort of made me realize you can actually have a functional game on top of all the aforementioned Fucking Around, too, and that sort of enhances the experience.

This might be a little weird and personal and I apologize, but I think the one thing that really sealed this game as something very special and significant to me was the moment I entered the Rito village for the first time. I was greeted with an utterly gorgeous piano melody that gradually unfolded into a soulful, excruciatingly bittersweet arrangement of the Dragon Roost Isle theme from the Windwaker. I admit that I was not in a good place in my life when I was playing Breath of the Wild. I was still reeling from some bad brain stuff. Be that as it may, Breath of the Wild is the only game I have ever played - hell, the only piece of art I have experienced - that has brought me to tears with nothing more than a song. When I realized what I was listening to, when the memories of a time when I was still a child with hope and trust and innocence and any faith that life would ever be something more than cruelty and suffering came flooding back, I had to put down my switch, go lay down, and just ugly cry for a while. It's honestly making me a little misty-eyed just thinking about. It was such a personal, intimate, keening feeling of... I don't really know. Nostalgia? Longing? Melancholy? Now, believe me, I love to cry. I am a crybaby. Things make me cry all the time. But not like this. This was something else. Something I still don't really understand, or can explain. All I know is that if a game can do that to me with just a few notes, it deserves to be here.

Salt and Sanctuary:

This is probably the most niche game for me. Even people who share some of my more eclectic tastes and sensibilities didn't like this game that much, but there was just something about this Metroidvania mashed with a Soulslike that hit some very primal notes in my soul. The art style, a weird mix of cartoony and utterly deranged, the enemy design, the bizarre way the world is put together, some extremely creative boss battles, and above all, some masterfully done atmosphere dripping with poorly understood dread and a sense of complete disorientation combined to create an experience that seemed to be made for me, and possibly me alone. It's not a flawless game. The music is fine, but somewhat lacking in variety. The character progression system is a good deal more complicated than it needs to be by any stretch of the imagination, as is the weapon upgrade system. The difficulty curve is uneven, and the raw inscrutability of the whole enterprise can make progression difficult in ways that it never really was in Dark Souls and Demon's Souls, which at least had the courtesy to point you in the right direction from time to time. The ending is a bit on the weak side.

Even now it feels difficult to really like. Elucidate on why I like this game so much. Maybe it's because it was the heartfelt effort of an extremely small team with more passion than experience? Because it's so unique and bold in ways other games are not, even while being a self-admitted derivative of Souls games? I just don't know. It's just such a fun and plucky thing, even if parts of it are kind of bad. It's not like, Deadly Premonition or anything where the badness is also the primary attraction. It's like, overall a good game? I believe? It's just that if it wasn't also kind of weirdly flawed and broken in some ways I don't think I would like it as much. God, I don't know. Just. Play it if you get a chance and see if any of this makes sense. One of the weapons you can use is a giant ass ship anchor, which is just fantastic, and you can start out as a chef, complete with a goofy hat and an extra helping of salt. Salt is important. Gotta keep those electrolytes up. You can also put a pumpkin on your head, and there's a boss called the Tree of Men which is just this giant torture machine that hates you and everyone else. It's so weird! The lighting is so moody and unsettling! The Queen of Smiles doesn't have a jaw! You have to brand your ass with a metal iron to double jump! ...hand, not ass, to be fair. But ass would be pretty funny. And horrifying. If you join the Iron Ones religion your healing item is just bread. And that is a fucking mood.

Super Mario Galaxy 2:

This one barely makes the temporal cut, but it was 2010 when it came out, I'm pretty sure. As a Mario game that doesn't have paper in its name, it's also going to be a bit fluffier and lighter on actual substance than pretty much every other game here, and I don't have that much to say. It's just this gorgeously realized and scored platforming adventure that's so tightly tuned you could play Smoke on the Water on it. It is the still the best traditional jumpy wahoo boing boing Mario game I have ever played. It just makes you feel good about space, and going to space, and seeing all the wonderful things in space. Though there most likely are not charming little obstacle courses themed around bees and and toy trains in space, the various cosmic phenonmenon on display on the map screen and in the background of some galaxies are close enough to what you might expect to inspire a sense of wonder and awe. SMG2 is like the purest expression of Let's Just have a Good Time design in games I have ever seen. It induces good feelings. Not everything has to be deep and troubling and thought provoking. Like, I tend to prefer it when they are, but there's always rooms for exceptions like this. Just fantastic. And the music though holy shit. Honestly I think the only game on this list that doesn't have a fantastic OST is Salt and Sanctuary, but it's still like. Serviceable.

Darkest Dungeon:

Let me start off by saying that Darkest Dungeon doesn't always hit the mark with its central conceit of stress management and the importance of mental health in your small army of adventurers. Nobody is going to start screaming abuse at their comrades or start stabbing them to death in a fit of paranoia because a skeleton spilled some cheap champagne on them. That said, I think that it -tries- to address these things is admirable, even if it is fairly easily boiled down into a simple matter of resource management and cost/benefit analysis. The reason I like Darkest Dungeon so much is that it is a game that excels at emergent storytelling. In terms of actual plot progression and character development, there is very little. You can have a party of four Occultists, each with the exact same backstory and with the exact same pact to the exact same eldritch entity, killing the exact same boss several different times. If you want. The dungeon crawling primarily serves as a vehicle for two things: the first and most obvious, the primary gameplay experience where you command your brave or at least foolhardy group of heroes to engage the ancient horrors of Grandpa's Party House. By itself, this is compelling and demanding. A bit like Dark Souls, Darkest Dungeon is a game that is fairly exacting in what it expects out of you, and it will not let you make mistakes without slapping you on the wrist and saying "no, bad." Similarly, it is a game where mastery is rewarded, but both in somewhat lesser degrees because DD is much more random and capricious in nature. The difference between a new player and an old hand is obvious, but sometimes even veterans can get completely dicked over by things out of their control.

That leads us into the second purpose: having the Ancestor narrate your constant struggle against Murphy's Law while completely hilarious bullshit conspires to send all of your highly trained and well equipped adventurers to the grave. Let me tell you a tale. I was fighting the Countess, the extremely powerful and dangerous final boss of the Crimson Court DLC. Everybody was afflicted with some manner of madness, and things were looking grim. She had shuffled my party around into a formation wherein some of them couldn't act without switching places. I ordered my vestal to switch places with Dismas, my highwayman. Dismas, however, was currently under either "selfish" or "abusive" status and simply refused to move. This meant that my vestal could not actually act that turn, and simply doing nothing incurs a penalty of stress damage. This stress damage was enough to put her gauge to the maximum, give her a heart attack, and kill her. Dismas literally murdered the healer by being too much of an asshole. I was beside myself at the time, but make no mistake - it was fucking hysterical. I later fed him to the final boss as penance for his crimes.

Darkest Dungeon is a grindy game that takes time and effort to complete. This is one of the biggest complaints leveled at it, and it's a fair one. On normal mode, though, you are more than capable of going at it inch by bloody inch, throwing corpse after corpse at the eldritch monstrosities until they at last drown in the blood and give up. No matter how grievous the setback, you can come back from it, unless you're playing on stygian/blood moon mode, which adds a fairly strict time limit and a hard cap on how many hapless adventurers you can send into the meatgrinder before the Nameless Thing That Ends The World wakes up and gives you an auto-game over. It's designed to be a long, bloody slog where shit goes wrong. Hopefully, in the upcoming sequel which I am very much anticipating not being able to play because I am poor, Red Hook can perhaps find a better balance with this. I am, for my part, fairly forgiving of grindy games, and at times even enjoy them. They were going for something with the way they designed DD, and I respect that. If you have the proper mindset of "whatever will be, will be" and learn to embrace the senselessness of death, your adventures in the Darkplace Estate will be both rewarding and oftentimes absurdly funny because your Arbalest was too depressed to eat anything, took more stress damage from starving, and then died of a heart attack, which then further stressed out the rest of the party. If that sounds more "oh my god that's awful" than "hahahaha you fucking dipshits" to you, DD might not be up your alley. But if it is, it -really- is. It's sort of the Dwarf Fortress principle, though Darkest Dungeon is far more user friendly and nice to look at. ...you know if you payed him enough the narrator voice actor would probably do a dramatic reading of Boatmurdered. Just saying.

Stellaris:

Stellaris is kind of the odd spaceman out on this list for a variety of reasons, but it shares the same kind of compelling emergent storytelling that Darkest Dungeon has. It's just less likely to be about how your alcoholic bounty hunter missed every hit against a fishman and went insane, and more likely to be about how you found this really cool Orb in space but it was in another empire's territory so you basically fabricated Space World War 1 to take it for yourself. Maybe that was just me. Much like the many habitable planets in any given Stellaris game, Paradox's grand strategy space game falls in the Goldilocks Zone of "accessible for mortal minds" and "satisfyingly complex." I'm not a huge fan of most Paradox stuff because I don't really give much of a fuck about kings and their crusaders one way or the other, but I respect them for what they are. Stellaris was kind of a proof of concept for me for that - given subject matter I actually liked (space!!!!), the various nitty gritty systems of planetary management and fleet organization and robo-modding and gene templates became compelling rather than overwhelming. They were, granted, still pretty overwhelming at first. The game still receives robust free updates and DLC even as of this writing, sometimes drastically changing the way the game is played (alloys! consumer goods! aarrrggh!) and making my 500ish hours of playtime seem a little less nonsensical. Look, a lot of that time was idling on the galaxy map while I did something else.

It's just really polished and technically competent and -enormous- and there's space dragons and sometimes you get to fuck a black hole. Stellaris doesn't really have a narrative, per se, save what you ascribe to any given game, but that doesn't mean the game doesn't have writing. A lot of very interesting, well written, and sometimes really funny flavor text can be found in the various anomalies and in-game events your science vessels will encounter as they uncover more of the galaxy, or sometimes a planet will have a mysterious portal to Hell on it, or maybe it's actually just a huge egg for a terrifying voidspawn. The game also navigates the usual 4X/strategy game dilemma of securing an early lead and just kind of chilling for the rest of the game by introducing midgame and lategames crises. It's not a perfect fix, but the ever-looming threat of a khanate space uprising, an AI uprising either from your empire or another, or ravenous space bugs from beyond the cosmos ensures that you have to keep at least a little bit on your toes. The presence of spaceborne aliens that range from "a nuisance" to "well gosh that thing is actually eating that sun this could be problematic" also ensures that you need to pay attention to both military and domestic aspects of governing. Stellaris happens in real time (though you can thank god pause whenever you want to issue orders) so there isn't really a Civilization equivalent of "oh the tiny pissant nations are declaring war, time to buy seven tanks with my enormous hoard of gold and run over their medieval knights" in Stellaris. Stuff always takes time to make, and it takes time to get in position, too. Space being exceedingly vast, and all that.

The lategame can get simultaneously get very overwhelming and very boring, but there are systems put in place to help automate the process of ruling a huge interstellar empire and one of the nice things about Stellaris is that you can kind of just. Stop whenever you want. There are technically win conditions, if you're into that sort of thing, but a lot of the time I will just play it through until I'm like "hmm okay im good" and then just either start a new game as an extremely different kind of empire or play something else for a while. It's kind of nice. The idea of "winning" in these games is always so weird to me anyway. I kind of like the framework where it's just kind of like. You tell a story, rather than try to win a game. Recent changes have made it much easier to actually achieve victory, however. Part of the thing that kind of encouraged my "eh i'll stop when i wanna" approach in the first place was how unreasonable some of the old victory requirements were. Occupy sixty percent of the galaxy? Excuse me???? Fuck off. Also, it's not like. A really salient part of the game like it is for most other games on the list, but Stellaris actually does have a pretty nice soundtrack. It's much more ambient in nature and there's not really enough of it for the amount of Game there is, but what's there is nice, even if you will probably end up turning it off and listening to your own music instead eventually.

============================= =Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers= =============================

Alright so if you've like actually looked at my twitter or talked to me or to someone about me for more than two minutes, it's probably pretty obvious that I really like FFXIV. An unhealthy amount. I will cop to that. FFXIV is an MMORPG. Let's start with the basics. I enjoy the game's gameplay a lot. I would not have put 6 years of my life into playing it if I did not, I'm not a Dota 2 player, for Christ's sake. I like to raid, and have actively done it in every wing except for the Sigmascape. I even managed to beat the final encounter of the current Edengate raids! I'm currently sort of gathering my courage to try the latest Ultimate Raid, the Epic of Alexander. Ultimate Raids are fights that are absurdly difficult by any reasonable standard and further winnow the playerbase from "hit level 80->does endgame stuff->does savage raiding->clears savage raid tiers->does Ultimate Raids->.00000001% of the player base that clears ultimate raids". Ultimates are for a very specific kind of player. I'm just sort of mentioning it for context purposes, it doesn't really factor in to my overall evaluation.

Now, despite the fact that I personally enjoy the gameplay a great deal, it is not actually why I think this game is so good. This might puzzle you. What else is there to an MMO? Is the sense of community especially great? Well, I would say that I really enjoy the community of people I play with, but on the whole, XIV's community is about. Standard, really. Which is to say "a fucking dumpsterfire" by any human metric, but just par for the course for online video games. What keeps me coming back to the game is that in between all the endgame stuff and grinding and crafting and going to die in Eureka, there is a bafflingly compelling and superlative singleplayer experience. The game is actually like unironically the best mainline FF title since at least XII. I would personally say it's on par with IX as a narrative experience, which is no faint praise because i fuckin luv me some ffix. But how can an MMO have such a compelling story? It's kind of complicated.

History lesson for the ten people who still don't know: FFXIV actually launched way back in like. 2011 or some shit and it was -arrestingly- bad. "Embarrassment to the franchise name" bad. So bad that they decided to literally drop a meteor on the game world, bring in a new director, shut the whole thing down for a year or so, and then relaunch the game as A Realm Reborn in mid 2013. People really liked this version. It was nothing short of a miracle. It also layed the groundwork for something important: a real and genuine dedication to worldbuilding (and worldending, too). The destruction and rebirth of the realm of Eorzea is metanarratively (theres my favorite non-word word again) baked into the very DNA of the game as it is now. Learning about the people who lived after the Calamity and how they survived is a direct parallel to how the dev team had to survive and adapt to make this complete boondoggle of a game into something presentable. A lot of heart and soul went into the bones of the world the game takes place in, because it's an expression of that dogged determination to make it work. Yoshida and his team probably crunched like hell to get it all done, and that makes me really sad, but what's done is done. I wish it didn't have to be that way, but it is, and all I can do at this point is praise the team's hard work and vision and try to support them as best I can.

So there's this really weighty sense of reality to the game world, and all of 2.0 is basically spent just establishing Eorzea and how it works. If you were an early adopter of ARR, like I was (2.1 is early right. it's gotta be.) then you grew to genuinely care about the place you spent so much time in and looked so pretty and was kind of obnoxiously laid out but don't worry there will be flying in the expansion. The longrunning nature of the game sort of necessitated a sort of serialized story. It had much more in common with an episodic TV Show than a usual Final Fantasy story, which for better or for worse are usually self-contained little things until somebody decides its fuckin Nova Crystalis time. It created a really unique sense of anticipation and participation in an ongoing story and evolving world. I think this is where a lot of people find their attachments to MMO style games, why people are still faithfully playing World of Warcraft 15 years on.

So FFXIV gets two expansions, Heavensward and Stormblood, and they were very Good, and added lots of neat things to the game and advanced the story and introduced new and beloved characters and also Zenos yae Galvus I guess and the long-running nature of it all started forging a kind of personal narrative of necessity, if that makes sense? Like, your own protagonist, who is mostly silent, who you created and customized and further customized and maybe turned into a lalafell once just to see what it was like to be so short, has been an important part of this world for so long your brain kind of just fills in the gaps in spite of itself. What would my character think about this? What would she do? Why would she do it? That kind of thing. The Warrior of Light, as one is called, has had a leading role in the game's story since pretty much day one, but one of the things that compels me about the character is how much work it took to get where she is today. Like, it's not a Diablo 3 style "hmm well you killed those zombies really good so i guess you're basically stronger than god and also satan put together" affair. You start out as a newbie adventurer, you do newbie adventurer things, like helping orange pickers keep the orchard clear of bees or deliver packages for guilds or whatever sufficiently adventuresome task needs doing. You gain notoriety for doing things that are, well, worthy of notoriety. You really get noticed when you defeat the primal Ifrit in a pitched battle, get recruited by some organizations, and you keep steadily working your way up from there.

As of Shadowbringers, the warrior of Darkness is kind of stronger than god and satan combined, but it took a fucking -lot- to get there. One base game and two expansions worth of life or death battles against utterly intractable foes and also Zenos yae Galvus I guess. It is beyond the scope of this piece to just give you a full plot summary of six years worth of storytelling, so I will just cut to the chase and try to explain what I'm taking five million words to say. Shadowbringers did something I thought heretofore impossible: it made me care about my tabula rasa cipher avatar as a character in a story and not just as an expression of digital self that I had grown fond of. Don't get me wrong - Dazzlyn Reed the adventurer is absolutely an expression of digital self that I have grown -disproportionately- fond of. I figure I'm a few more patch cycles from becoming that girl in the Jack Chick tract about Dungeons and Dragons who had a psychotic break because her DnD character died. However, for the most part, that affection was more of... kind of taking pride in her appearance and the outfits I put together and the achievements I had accomplished with her and stuff like that. Shadowbringers made me care about her as a character in her own right, which seems borderline miraculous to me.

It's sort of hard to explain without totally spoiling everything. And even with spoiling everything. In vague terms, I'll try to express it this way: the game put Dazzlyn in a situation where she had failed. Like, spectacularly. Everything she had done in the course of the expansion had gone up in smoke, and her own life was in real and severe danger. When you play these kinds of games, your first instinct when things go wrong in the story is pretty much always to just flippantly say to yourself "okay okay just calm down and let me fix it i'm like level a billion it's fiiiiine". Shadowbringers turns that on its head. You went to fix things... and you couldn't. Despite good intentions, it's arguable that you only made things worse. Everything you worked for since arriving on the First was just utterly undone, and the game lets you see the toll that has taken on your character. It's weirdly heartwrenching in a really uncommon and compelling way. Dazzlyn had been on the outside looking in at this kind of situation plenty of times before, and she had always had a nice and encouraging thing to say as she helped shoulder the burden and get things back on track for Alphinaud or Lyse or Cid or whoever. The game has, since antiquity, given you much appreciated little dialogue choices that don't really matter much in the scheme of things but let you kind of carve out your own characterization, and the way Dazzlyn turned out was somebody who just really cared way too much about all of her dumb stupid impossible friends who kept fucking up.

One thing that longtime players of the game have complained about quite a bit over the years is that your NPC friends never seemed very. Like. Personally close to you, with a couple of exceptions like Alisae. Shadowbringers both fixes that by introducing the Trust system, which lets you take your Scion buddies into dungeons with you instead of other players, if you are so inclined, and sort of turns it back around to be a kind of poignant narrative point. After everything she had done for them, unconditionally and with a smile, none of the Scions could actually find a way to help Dazzlyn when she finally ended up being the one who needed it. And this -fucks them up-, emotionally. Like, bad. Alisae nearly has a crying fit over it in one of Shadowbringer's more affecting scenes. And just watching the whole thing unfold fucked me up, too. Like, I hadn't signed up for this. I was (relatively) safe in the knowledge that they would not have the gall to actually kill off the player character in an ongoing MMO, but it wasn't necessarily the fear of something happening to her that was getting to me. It was more just this feeling of "god, she deserves better. this isn't fair." The emotional pain that, well, everybody involved is going through is extremely real, even if the threat of genuine death is not. I know (mostly) (please god) that Dazzlyn is going to be okay, but she doesn't. Her friends certainly don't. And even when she does miraculously pull through, it's not like all of this grief and fear and anxiety is going to just vanish like it never happened.

I really have to stress how completely and catastrophically wrong this could have gone if the writers responsible weren't sufficiently skilled. I'm pretty sure if I idly suggested a BFA era World of Warcraft storyline like this to somebody who still plays they would have an apoplectic fit. It would have been so easy for this kind of exercise to ascribe character traits and emotions to a very personal interpretation of the Warrior of Light that they would never have, for any one person's vision of them. The FFXIV writing team avoided this issue entirely, probably because they knew if they didn't people would go ape, by focusing the brunt of the expressed distress on your friends and just leaving you yourself some time to take in the enormity of how badly things have gone wrong in customary silence. A subdued facial expression here, a dialogue option there. No more than strictly necessary. The game encourages you to draw your own conclusions about what your Warrior is feeling, how they're coping, if they even have any hope left, but it does not overstep its bounds and do it for you. It's just... really masterfully done. The overall arc of Shadowbringers can be described as "intriguing, well realized, and competently done." The overarching ideas presented aren't like, groundbreaking or anything. What is groundbreaking, at least to me, is this miraculous giving of life to a character that was originally intended as as simple player avatar.

At the end of the day, everybody rallies around you, as they usually do, but it is markedly different this time. It isn't some facile repetition of the idea that the Warrior of Light/Darkness/Pants-theft is this focal point of hope given form and life to everyone. Instead, it's this... oddly touching expression of friendship. Commitment. It's all probably going to end in tragedy. There's nothing anybody can really do. But they're going to stay with you until the bitter end anyway, because they care about you. If nothing else, they can't bear to think of you dying alone and in agony. Even the citizens of the Crystarium, with whom you do not share a bond that goes back literal years, show up to give you some words of encouragement. They show up to tell you that it's okay that you failed. It's okay that you got hurt, it's okay that you're in pain, that you're scared, that you're vulnerable, that you don't know what to do. After spending such a long time in the game's lore as being kind of invincible and infallible except for the occasional matter of pesky Imperial Viceroys and Old Kung-fu Men, it's just... affecting. It's not often done in games, at least that I have played and seen.

Does this one story moment justify making Shadowbringers the game of the decade? Honestly? Kind of. To me, art has always been about emotional reaction. This kind of reaction is something special, even for a crybaby idiot bitch like me. Moments like these are what make or break truly fantastic experiences. Finally finding Vendrick in the Tomb as that haunting, off-key melody starts playing. Realizing the true nature of the Upper Cathedral Ward. Hearing a beautiful piece of music in Rito Village and thinking about what that song means to you. Admitting that you care about your Warrior of Darkness more than you thought. They're all quite different, running the gamut from existential despair, stomach turning fear, a deep and abiding nostalgia and longing for what used to be, to a sincere, melancholy affection for a game world I've been a part of for almost six years. There's one unbroken thread: a cascade of genuine emotion. Something that goes beyond the simple pressing of buttons and jolts of serotonin as the numbers go up or the bad guys die.

Fortunately for my general credibility, Shadowbringers is also just really good in general. Soken's soundtrack is, as always, kind of spooky in how high quality it is. The presentation is top notch as usual. Encounter design is probably the best its ever been in terms of balancing accessibility and challenge and having mechanics that actually Work As Intended and not nightmarish garbage like Digititis and Black Hole Walking. Royal Pentacle! Server ticks! Server ticks! Uh. Sorry. Going slightly feral there. Anyway. Overall, I think Shadowbringers is the most polished expansion so far, in all respects, and its narrative quality in particular is kind of transcendent because of what it accomplishes in regards to how players see themselves in relation to an unfolding story. Also, it has an unfair advantage, because it's also a continuation of Nier Automata now! That's two games of the decade in one! Now, due to the serial nature of it all, I will allow that if something goes... like, inconceivably, catastrophically wrong with 5.2 - 5.5 I might be a little premature in my assessment. That said, 5.1 was just as fantastic as 5.0 and I don't see a reason to assume that the quality will so drastically drop in the coming months.

If you're somebody who really likes Rankings, here is a pretty noncommital list of them going from least good to best good but they're all special damn it.

10. Super Mario Galaxy 2 9. Breath of the Wild 8. Stellaris 7. Darkest Dungeon 6. Salt and Sanctuary 5. Dark Souls 4. Nier Automata 3. Bloodborne 2. Dark Souls II 1. Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers

And here's a couple of Honorable Mentions just because!

Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

To be honest, this easily could have taken the place of like. Breath of the Wild or SMG2 if I was just a little bit more into Sekiro's aesthetic. It's easily the most technical and best-playing game that Miyazaki's team has put out so far, with a very simple to learn, difficult to master system of fighting based more around swordfighting than "shove large axe into monster butt" its predcessors liked so much. It also has a well-told story about a fairly down to earth conflict between an independent fiefdom and Japan's internal ministry trying to conquer it, with a splash of supernatural weirdness to give it some spice. There are monkeys with guns. Sekiro is just fantastically put together, and I really did end up loving Wolf as a main character, despite my initial misgivings about one of these games without a character creator. Wolf is kind of a lovable chuuni dipshit who tries his best in completely unreasonable circumstances and having him as an anchor lets Sekiro's story be more personal and self-contained in nature than the heady cosmological epics of the Souls games, which was a nice change of pace. Ultimately, though, I just find ineffably weird nature of the earlier titles to be a bit more interesting than shinobi and samurai, which is why Sekiro gets an honorable menchie and not a top spot. Don't get me wrong though shinobi and samurai are dope and Sekiro is not a -worse- game for their inclusion. It's just a matter of personal preference, and I could easily see this game taking a top spot on somebody else's list.

Pokemon X and Y

I am a Pokemon bitch. I play all of them, except for black/white 2 and ultra sun/moon, which seemed too similar to their predecessors to really justify spending my precious, jealously guarded money on them. I feel that in general, X and Y has overall, the best mix of available pokemon, world design, music, Fun Little Things, and general game flow of all of them. Sword and Shield excepted I am still in the middle of that one. Pokemon is absolutely kind of video game comfort food, and its kind of just. There's not a lot to it emotionally, though it does have some fairly in depth mechanics and shit if you want to look into it. I don't know I just really liked X and Y. I felt like it deserved mentioning.

Blade and Soul

This game is awful I'm pretty sure but I have so many fond memories of playing it with people I love and creating a ridiculous titty oil monster and having adventures with her sorry i'm trash

So there you have it. A very personal (sometimes maybe probably too personal) look at the ten games that I found to be the best that came out in the last ten years. Now, I usually consider my opinions on these things to be fairly well reasoned, but in this case, I did rely a lot more on the touchy feely qualitative things that are really important to me over the necessary but lamentable "yes i suppose this game is technically competent and plays extremely well" considerations a more objective list of this kind would entail. So you're free to disagree and think I'm stupid and wrong. I would prefer it if you did not think I was stupid, though, but the fact of the matter is I cannot stop you. Here's to another ten years of wonderful games that make us feel things.

#game of the decade #ffxiv #dark souls #bloodborne #botw #darkest dungeon

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ashleymattei-blog · 5 years

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Moira O’Hara x Reader ~Part1~

- Place these boxes in the living room. - Yes, Ma'am. You went into the kitchen and put the box on the kitchen counter before looking around to the number of boxes. You sighed, nonetheless happy, and went to check on the workers in the living room. They were trying to fit the furniture next to the sea of boxes. You took a moment to look at the house you were in, detailing your surroundings when you heard the front opening and you turned on a woman. - Ah, you're here. I was looking for you. - Marcy? Is everything all right? - Oh yes, yes, I just I ought to be honest with you, even though you told me you knew the disturbing history of this house. - Sure? - The family before you was discovered fleeing the house in a hurry after what they affirmed was a, traumatic experience. - What kind? - They claimed to have recognized the former family. The husband claimed to have witnessed the maid of this house, who, of course, denied being here at such a late hour, and the wife saw the wife. Before both seeing the couple injuring each other physically and advised them to run. You were slackjawed. Marcy saw the look of disbelief on your face and waved off her comment. - But of course it was never proven, and the maid ever denied seeing anything suspicious. - Since when this maid has been working here? - Oh, ever since nineteen eighty-three. You nodded, stunned. - Aren't you... You know, concerned? - Why Marcy? You said it yourself it was never proven. - I know, but still. People did die in this house. - I will be fine I promise, and if let's say something peculiar happens, you'll be the first to know. What do you think? When you looked up to Marcy, you saw the uneasy look on her face. You stood back up when the workers came toward you. - Everything has been brought in, do you need any help with assembling furniture? - No thank you, let me write the check. his way. Ten minutes later you came back in the living room and found Marcy at the same spot, files in her hands and still that uneasy look on her face. - What are these? - Papers, official papers. After this signature, you'll be the new owner of the mur... This house. - Good, let's sign them then. Marcy placed the papers in front of you, and you started looking through what was written. When you reached the end Marcy handed, you a pen and you signed, feeling eyes on you. You turned slightly and could have sworn to have seen black clothes.

-All right. I guess it is done. You jumped slightly looking back at Marcy in front of you. -Moira should be coming in the course of the end of this week. -Moira? -The maid. Marcy left toward the front door, opening the door. -Miss? -Yeah? -You might want to replace the locks or just secure your doors. -Why is that? -Because it just happens that the woman next door was a former tenant of this house. -What? When? -Twice to tell the truth, the first time was in 1983; the next was presumably a few years after. -What happened? -Nobody knows she claims he ran off with the maid. But the maid is still hither. She left, closing the door behind her, leaving you, staring at the door. You turned around to look at the house; your hands resting on your waist. -Well seems like it's just you and me now?

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

- Coming! Oh hi. - Good afternoon, I'm Moira O'Hara; I'm... - The housekeeper, yes Marcy informed me. I'm (y/n). It's nice to meet you. - May I come in? - Naturally, please. You both went toward the kitchen; you sat back, your teacup warming your hands while Moira was taking off her coat making you stare. She was wearing an extremely revealing French maid outfit. One of those you see for Halloween and adult parties. You focussed on your tea and looked to your left, feeling observed. - I hope you won't find that intrusive if I ask you questions? - What? Oh no, it's okay, ask away. - What would cause a person to purchase this house again? Did Marcy skip telling you what happened here? - No, quite the contrary, she has been exemplary. But I sort of new the house a bit. And you know, I don't really have anything to lose except my life so. - Life is precious you know. Not everyone has that chance to be able to walk freely. - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound, I don't know bragging or entitled. - No, it's my fault, I shouldn't have snapped at you. What a first impression! You laughed nervously when she turned, her dress was a bit unbuttoned and seduction was emanating from her. Suddenly the door of the kitchen opened on a golden-haired woman. You turned startled, while Moira was making a six feet long face. - My, I suppose you are the new tenant. - Yeah. Let me guess you're the neighbor. - I'm Constance Langdon. - And this is my house. So next time you'll be kind enough to knock and wait for an answer. Its called respect. Both Constance and Moira were looking at you speechless, even though Constance's eyes were displaying signs of slight annoyance, Moira had a distinct smile on her rosy lips. - I see you've met Moira. I hope her dusting has improved. - Constance that joke being as old as you, I'd like to inform you to amend the record. You've been playing this one for too long. This time it were you and Constance who looked at Moira speechless. - I see the wh... mouse learned how to bite. - Would you mind leaving? Actually, please, do leave. - You'll see me around here. Constance passed the door without a look for either of you, and you turned toward Moira speechless. - Is she always like this?! - She has always been like this. - Christ... She doesn't seem to appreciate you that much. - We are not friends and she loathes me, you can say it. It's merely the truth. - I see... - You do? You looked up meeting Moira's eyes, you shrugged a sorry look on your face and she smiled gently.

-It's okay, I'm used to it. And honestly, I don't think it's ever going to change. -You shouldn't be used to it. The way she's behaving, god I knew someone like that, what a pain in the butt. Moira stopped her movement half scandalized, half laughing. She kept on cleaning the cupboards and caught a glimpse of the look you gave her. You rotated your head quickly, cursing yourself. Who would dress like that and have good intentions? You have to be more careful with this one. -Moira? -Yes, Ma'am? -Please, I'm not my mother. Call me anything but that, please? -Alright, Miss. You looked at her, a tired sigh passing through your lips. -That's better, not ideal, but we're getting somewhere... -What did you mean to tell me? -I'm going upstairs to take care of the boxes in my bedroom. I won't be down for a while. -The white room? You sensed her tone turning harsh and less friendly, her face twisted by something dark. -You're kidding, right? That room's got unusually bad vibes. No way I'm getting in without a sufficient reason, or if I want to frighten myself. You added laughing. Moira seemed to relax after you completed your sentence. She turned to you a beaming smile on her face. -I agree. I don't like this room at all. You were about to leave to go upstairs, but you turned toward Moira, an odd look on your face. You chased the feelings away and focussed on the present task. Hours later. You let yourself fall on the bed. The bedroom was done. And now there were every other rooms to take care off. Alone. Later, tonight you only wanted calm and peace. To rest after such a day of labor and meeting new people. You heard your phone ring waking you from your planning. When you looked at the screen and saw your best friend's picture, you unlocked your phone and accepted the call putting her on speakers. -Hey Laura! -My god (y/n)! I thought you were already dead since you didn't call me! -Sadly no! I'm still here and alive and well and alone. -You wanted to move across the country, remember? -Yeah well, I wouldn't have had to do that if it wasn't for her. -Yeah, I know. About that. Johanna has been exhausting me with questions about you. -What did you tell her? -That you moved out, took your things and fled to the other side of the country. If you had seen her face! -I can very well picture that! -So met anyone yet? No ghost so far? -Come on don't start me with that. -What I'm merely inquiring, it's a legitimate question after what you told me. -You're right. I'm sorry I'm just unused talking about it. -That's okay, don't worry. So met anyone living in there? -A former tenant who happens to be a bitch. -As if that was surprising. Don't tell me she lives next doors... -Who lives next doors. -Wow, you're so dead! -I know! -So, who else? -The maid. -Maid? What maid? -The house comes with a maid. She's been working here for ages. But something doesn't line up... -Why? -She's youthful. And she's supposed to have been working in here since 83. -You're confident she's alive that maid? Remarked your friend laughing -I don't know... I scarcely know if I care genuinely... -Okay, girl. Give me her name. I'll see what I can retrieve. -Sure, her name is Moira O'Hara. -Right, what is she like? -You mean physically? -Yep. -She's got red hair, she's tall, pale, thin, she's got blue eyes as well. -Okay, I'll see what I can discover on your mysterious maid hon. Oh, fuck me. -No thanks! You said laughing. -No. It's your bitch of an ex. -What do you mean? -She knows we're still in touch and that I know where you are. -It's not as if it were a secret that you would know that. -Yeah but now she is flooding me with messages. Anyway, gotta go. I'll talk to you later! -See you, Laura! -See you girl!

You hang up looking at the time. A quarter to midnight. You sighed and changed in your pajama. Suddenly you heard a mat noise coming from downstairs, making you turn at once. You clutched on your phone going toward the door, opening gradually. You distinguished no one so you decided to go further toward the stairs, going down as silently as you could. - Violet! Do you want to wake up the new tenant?! You jumped at the sound of the voice of the maid, yet it somehow seemed unfamiliar, older. You went next to the opening, looking at what was happening in the living room, your eyes wide. - Sorry Moira, but Thaddeus pushed me, go complain to him. - Violet talk better to Moira, please. - I wasn't... - Vivien, it's fine, but if any of us keep uttering more noise we'll wake her. And none of us want that. You looked at the woman who had her back facing you. She had red hair in a low bun and a regular maid outfit, and no heels. A woman approached her and put a hand on her arm gently. - So, Moira. You said you saw Lorraine's girls wandering upstairs? - Indeed, they rarely come up. Only when there is a new tenant. I fear for her Vivien. - That's okay. We'll simply watch over her; she can't see us, so it's going to be easy. The more you were listening, the less you understood, afraid to comprehend what and who they were referring to. - So how does she sees you? - Violet! A man appeared from the corner an exasperated look on his face. - What dad? It's only fair. Moira could help depending on how she perceives her. - What if for once we don't delegate the dirty work to her. - Ben, who else could do it? Moira remains the maid; she is to be seen every day. We aren't. We're supposed to be dead and not even here. - I'm sorry but after all these years living with her and understanding how the house works, it simply doesn't seem fair anymore. You saw the red-haired going toward the man you assumed was Ben. She passed her arms around him, and he circled her with his arms as well as a sorry look on his face. When they parted, she turned to face the two women present in the room. A gasp left your lips, and you looked astonished at the woman. She was much older than the young chick who was cleaning during the day. - I'll do it if I have to. At least to chaperon her. She seems pleasant, so maybe I won't have to. And to acknowledge your question Violet she perceives what I desire her to see. Ben and who seemed to be Violet and Vivien looked at each other concerned. - What do you mean? Asked Violet - She's seeing me young because that's what I decided this time. - But why? The adolescent girl asked. - It's more straightforward to fathom out a person's personality and intentions when tempting them. - If that's your choice. - Dad, you were against it just two seconds ago?! - Violet! Volume. Snapped the woman - You're right, but you see. Moira is right. Because she did the same on me. So I know she's right and that we can rely on her to do what is right. - Thank you, Ben. I'll go talk to Nora to see if she'll be willing to help and tame Thaddeus as she's the only one who can do that. Your back collided softly against the wall, surprise, and fright all over your face. That couldn't be happening nor be possible. Right? You heard steps in the living room and hurried back upstairs in your room, rushing toward your bed, entering the covers. Hoping for a good night of sleep to shed light on what you'd merely overheard and the mysteries of the House.

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

A week had passed, you had settled quite well, somehow happy to have the maid's company. Yet what you had perceived that evening kept coming back to you. It wasn't making any sense, but you knew something was off. All of those feelings, being watched, pushed, hearing whispers, steps. The maid, Moira it was the only time you witnessed her like that. Older. She was always youthful with you. Acting seductively, bending over, making sexual conundrums. Initially, you thought it was for fun and to have a good laugh, to test the person. But now that the second week had arrived you lost interest looking at how much body she was revealing. The woman next door, Constance. She came by quite a few times, rarely knocking or scarcely asking to come in. You would sometimes find her in the kitchen, the basement, or even the attic. But she never seemed to be alone. You would always recall the look the blond gave Moira when she bet over for you once again serving you both tea. It was a look of disgust with a knowing smile. That was the first time you pondered how she perceived her? If it was indeed accurate what you had seen in the living room. But that thought was rapidly replaced by sadness toward Moira. What had happened, if this was indeed true, to cause her to behave that way.

Moira's PoV

I looked around seeing the new tenant nowhere. So I went toward the basement and went down the stairs. That's when I saw them. Ben, Violet, Vivien, and Nora. And they seemed to be in an extremely agitated discussion. - Tate keeps following me around and keeps telling me we wouldn't have to worry if she were murdered. Stated Violet - I'm sorry darling; I saw Constance coming to talk to him a few times. Thaddeus keeps him away from her, though. Tried Vivien - Larry has been freed. I've seen him skulking around; I'm sure he is going to keep on helping Constance. And Hayden has been following the tenant around. Spat Ben - Lorraine and the girls will not be a problem if we keep them far enough from the new tenant. They are sad people who want to make others feel like them. Added Nora - What about you Moira? Asked Violet I opened my mouth to speak but no sound came out of it. I passed a hand in my hair looking at everybody. - I think being young doesn't do anything. - What do you mean? - It is possible she's not gay. Tried Violet - I heard her talk about a jealous and angry girlfriend. Hence, it's not that. Explained Moira - For all one knows it's because of what she stands for... Started Vivien - Who? Asked Nora - Moira of course. Suddenly all looks were on me and I looked warily at them all. - What are you attempting to say, Vivien? - What I'm saying is you appeared young to her ever since she first set here. You told us she was looking at you at first. I don't know what you look like younger, so I can't... Vivien had stopped talking, looking at me as if she had seen a ghost. Ben seemed displeased to see me as that and Violet looked at both her father and me speechless. - So that's why you weren't even fighting her off that hard?! - How many times am I supposed to apologize? - Violet, it's fine, it was my fault at the time. When I looked at Vivien her look left me perplex. Everyone started to look at her when she came closer to me and started to touch my face and look at my outfit, not at all pleased. - Well, I can understand why she would find that nice at first but is growing tired of it.

That hit me hard. Why was she saying that? - Mom?! That's harsh!

- Vivien from personal experience the outfit is a no for me but younger she is gorgeous. - That's exactly what I'm talking about! The outfit! I mean Moira have you ever looked at yourself in such clothing? - I can't think of the last time I did... - Well, maybe you should. Because you're conveying an image of you close to a whore. - Vivien! Talking like that about Moira will not help your situation nor hers. It is merely going to make things worse. - I don't get it. Everyone turned toward me unsure. - Why doesn't it work on her? - Maybe because the way she sees it is, a young, seductive woman who seizes every opportunity trying to gain her way with her. Whereas she is trying to be friendly and talk to you. And that outfit? I mean you have a cleavage Moira; I can see your bra. Your skirt is the shortest I've ever laid my eyes on and you're wearing heels. And I can see where your stockings are attached to your garter belt. When Vivien stopped her monologue, I looked at her speechless. My arms resting on along my legs, seeming defeated in manner.

- So what? Said Violet - So gay or not she is never going to do anything with Moira like that. Moira looks like a cheap whore who doesn't respect herself and who thinks she is only good at that being fucked or giving people blowjobs. That's why it's not working. - Viven you're being harsh. - Am I Ben? Because I don't see what's to like about Moira's younger appearance. Moira... I had a tear going down my cheek. My breathing had gone faster when Vivien had described what I made her think of. And it hurt, it hurts so bad. I felt as if my chest was constricted by some invisible bindings. She came toward me and wiped the tear on my young cheek, before giving a look to my usually wounded eye.

- I didn't mean to make you cry. I didn't even mean for that to sound harsh. But... I had ne'er seen you like that before. I'm literally shocked! I mean, I understand the tenant. Moira I'm never going to lie to you. Younger you were beautiful, I think everyone here can agree. But this outfit it's a no go... Can you be normal, you know, go back to yourself? I nodded slightly and appeared as I always appeared for the last years when I didn't have to appear young. - That's much better. Moira, you are a nice, gorgeous, slightly too graphic woman! What's not to like? - Thank you, Vivien... - She's right, you're much lovelier like that Moira, what do you think dad?

- I agree and am sorry that's how the house works. - So what should I do? - Maybe if you so want for her to see you young you could at least wear that outfit. You know, a normal length and buttons buttoned. Said Vivien smiling at me - Do you think it would make a difference? - I think she could even start to like you or maybe spend more time with you. - More than now at least. Also, you've seen how she talks back to Constance. She's my new hero honestly! Added Violet a smile on her lips - Which is why we've got to help her. Moira, Try to spend some time with her, make her talk about herself I don't know but occupy her when there is a danger coming. - What causes you to think she'll want to talk to me after that first week. - I'm certain she will. As it happens, we should all go upstairs and see where she is. - Is she even in the house? - Well, I guess we'll find out. Everybody nodded toward Vivien. We went back upstairs, and I went to the kitchen in case, she was coming back or in the house. It was only ten minutes later than Violet rushed into the kitchen. - She's on the porch; you got this Moira! I saw her living to get her parents and Nora and heard the door opening. I swallowed with some difficulties and smoothed my uniform, my heart beating in my ears. I went to pour a fresh glass of water and heard a knock. I turned and saw (y/n) resting against the opening giving on the kitchen. I went and gave her the glass of water when I looked behind her I saw them looking, hopeful. - Where did you go if you don't mind me asking? - You can ask, and I was just running some errands. It's was more than needed. She said laughing.

I smiled gently before turning toward the bag she put on the table, starting to place everything in the fridge. - That suits you better. I ceased what I was doing my eyes wide. I turned instantly and look at the new tenant, giving periodically a look to Vivien who's eyes seemed to say "see I told you. " - I'm sorry? - The other uniform, It's good for Halloween adult parties. This one suits you much better. And Moira... Respect comes in many and various forms, but if you don't respect yourself and respect people, they won't respect you. You have to recognize your worth for that. She left the room a contented smile on her face and I saw everyone coming to me all smiles as well. Vivien passed an arm around my shoulders and gave a look where the young woman had left. - I think she likes her. Mentioned Violet - You mean one version of her, stated Vivien, You see I told she would say that. - Thank you, Vivien.

#AHS #ahs murder house #moira o'hara x reader #moira o'hara #reader #fanfic #fanfiction #my wips

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bubbleteaandsmut · 7 years

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You Don’t Have to Call: Part 2 Fire & Desire

Jaebum x Reader, Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut (not this chapter).

Summary: The morning after leaves you recollecting and making choices that you’ll soon regret.

Word Count: 7.5k

Prologue. Part 1.

You just trying to be somebody

'Fore you say you need somebody

Get all your affairs in order

I won't have affairs, I'm yours, girl

Ooh, she may be weary And young girls, they do get wearied...

You slowly opened your eyes to the sound of Otis Redding, your head throbbing lightly at the direct sunlight coming in from your window. You wouldn't have remembered to close them last night (this morning?), but you still curse Past You for doing Present You like that.

But when she gets weary... Try a little tenderness, yeah, yeah

As you sat up, your head throbbed dully, causing you to wince slightly. It wasn't the worse hangover you've ever had, so you were grateful. You took a solid minute to collect your bearings, letting the song play. Finally reaching for your phone, you turned off the alarm, the music finally coming to a stop.

11:55.

You sucked your teeth, falling back into your pillow. Even your body couldn't let you sleep in until at least 1 o' clock. You hovered your phone above your face, finally noticing the handful of notifications.

Messages 3:20 AM

Jaebum 👹💩✨

pls

Messages 3:15 AM Jaebum 👹💩✨ come over tomorrow

Messages 3:07 AM Jaebum 👹💩✨ shit ignore that

Messages 3:04 AM Jaebum 👹💩✨ Also a lil drunk and hard

Messages 3:03 AM Jaebum 👹💩✨ Idk wut to say but i miss you.

Messages 3:00 AM Jaebum 👹💩✨ U up?

Messages 1:45 AM 💕Powerpuff Girls 💕 Mina(j) ✨ Why did you censor it, we know you're talkin bout his dick

Messages 1:30 AM 💕Powerpuff Girls 💕 Lana Del Bae 🦁 Jackson Wang’s **** is worthy of his surname 👅

Snapchat 12:43 AM Solana sent you a Snap!

Messages 12:15 AM +1 (566) 301-9924 That's basic Greek mythology, how does that make me nerdy

You frowned at the most recent texts, wondering why the hell Jaebum was texting you so late (or early). You finally unlocked your phone, deciding to look at the unknown number that had texted you first. After scrolling to the beginning of the conversation, you realized that it had been Namjoon. He had given you his number last night in the car, but you hadn't gotten a moment to save it.

+1 (566) 301-9924 Go to sleep then lol

You I am jeez. Just hoping I don't get a hangover

+1 (566) 301-9924 I'll pray to Dionysus for you

You Omfg Dionysus? You fuckin nerd

+1 (566) 301-9924 That's basic Greek mythology, how does that make me nerdy

You couldn't stop the smile that came to your lips, and you sat up slowly, kicking a leg out from under your sheets, bare foot touching the hard floor. You reached over to your window, pressing the button to turn on your wireless speaker. Finally rising to your feet, you turned to your dresser while tapping on your phone, finding a playlist to start the day.

As the music began to play, you dug around to find clothes to lounge in, quickly finding some and tossing them on your bed. You grabbed your speaker before you walked to the bathroom. Resting the speaker on the sink, you turned on the shower, tapping at your phone and sending out a text to the group chat

You I'm awake. Pls bring brunch, I'm dying. Also Lana congrats on the dick.

Shedding your under clothes and piling your hair atop your head in the best way you could, you slipped on a shower cap, stuffing in the fallen braids. You pouted in the mirror as the cap stretched, not fully being able to contain your head of hair. Your phone lit up in the corner of your eye and you reached over to grab it, looking at the text.

Messages 12:08 PM 💕Powerpuff Girls 💕 Mina(j) ✨ You know she's not gonna be up until at least 12:30. Also, I'm cookin omelettes.

"So how big was it?" Mina inquired, sitting on the black shag carpet in front of your bed, legs out stretched and crossed as her plate rested on her lap. Solana was sitting next to you, back leaning into the Childish Gambino poster hung low on your wall. She bit her lip, hiding her signature devious smile.

"It's like...a little above average sized." She tilted her head as if in thought, still smiling. "He takes care of himself. Like, it's pretty."

Mina barked out a laugh, throwing her head back. "Pretty?!"

You cut into your omelette with your fork, stuffing your mouth. You didn't realize how hungry you were. Your omelette was halfway gone. "What does that even mean? A pretty dick?"

Solana laughed, reaching over to your nightstand to grab her bottle of apple juice. "It means what it means! Like, he shaves! I mean not everything down to the point where it looks like...I don't know, a naked mole rat or something-"

You coughed, the laugh wanting to leave but the food stopping it. "Oh my god, Lana."

"Like his entire chest? Defined, no hair, but his happy trail?" Her eyes rolled back dramatically as she fanned herself. Mina shook her head, sipping her water. "And then when I took his pants off, I was legitimately in awe! And he was so bashful about it too, all 'You don't have to do that kind of thing, if you don't want to.'"

"Wow," You cut another piece, swallowing before you continued to stuff your mouth. "Sounds like a real Prince Charming."

"Oh, because you know all about Prince Charmings, huh?" Solana countered back folding her arms. She didn't sound malicious, but you flipped her off anyways. You reached for your phone placed by your crotch, skipping to the next song.

"Whatever, it's not even like that."

"Yea right, Cinderella. Hopping into your carriage before midnight," She teased, poking at your cheeks as you chewed. You glared unthreateningly, and she continued. "Not even leaving anything for your prince to go by, how's he supposed to find you?"

"Oh yeah, how did that go?" Mina asked, rising to her feet and resting her plate on your desk. She walked over to your bed, climbing up and resting her head on your pillow, stretching her legs out before you and Solana's crossed ones. "Did he see you?"

You scarfed the rest of your omelette, reaching for your bottle of water and chugging it to wash it down. "He definitely saw me."

"And?" Solana continued. "What happened?"

"He asked me if I was leaving, I said yes...and then he offered to accompany me home." You attempted to say it dismissively, but Solana's audible gasp and Mina's "You little shit!!" proved that it wasn't something to easily dismiss.

"Oh my god, did you bring him back here???" Solana sat up in her seat, handing her half eaten omelette to Mina, who was now also sitting up against your headboard. "Also, can I get an aspirin?"

"No I didn't bring him back here, are you crazy?" You put your plate in between you, getting up to walk to your bathroom. "We got an Uber together, that's it." You scanned your cabinet, looking for the aspirin.

"That's it?" You heard Mina easily, and your eyes squinted into a glare even though she couldn't see. "You didn't talk during this car ride then, didn't get his number?"

You halted in your search, immediately taking in her words. You spotted the aspirin, snatching it off the shelf and walking back into the room. Solana had your phone in her hands, Mina over her shoulder as though she had been looking too.

"Both of you are the worst." You snatched your phone back, looking to see what they had opened. Unsurprisingly, it was your text conversation with Namjoon.

"You're being all cryptic!" Solana exclaimed, taking the bottle of aspirin from your hands and opening it. "Did you make out with him or not?"

Your cheeks burned in embarrassment and you sat back down on the bed, taking Mina's previous spot as she had taken yours. "No, I did not make out with him."

"Did you want to?" You leaned back against your headboard, biting your lip in thought at Mina's question.

Did you?

"Call an Uber? It's like a 15 minute walk back to campus." Namjoon said as you both stepped outside, people loitering the lawn of the frat house.

"Yeah, but I don't feel like walking," You shrugged, walking down the porch steps and over discarded plastic cups. "We walked all the way here, I stood on my feet all night. I'm allowed to take an Uber home."

Namjoon chuckled, taking out his phone. "Alright alright, touché. Uber it is."

The cost of the ride was about $12, and even though Namjoon offered to pay for the whole thing, you split the cost. "Consider it compensation for the drink. Now I don't owe you."

You both stood at the end of the lawn, a couple feet away from the ambiance of the party. It was like a small little bubble between you two again, and it was comfortable. You glanced at him in the corner of your eye, taking in his profile. His nose was kind of like a slope, barely curving at the end. You bet his skin was soft. His lips were, from the brief touch you had when you had poked it. A little chapped, but somehow still soft. How is that possible?

"So how do you know Jaebum?" He turned to face you fully, and you snapped out of your reverie, turning away. You folded your lips tightly at the mention of Jaebum, and you tried not to make your disdain so obvious.

"We both volunteered with the moving in group. You know, like those students in the blue shirts pushing those huge carts?" Namjoon blinked before making a sound of understanding. "Yea, we became friends through that."

"So you had to push those shitty blue bins all around campus?" He smiled lightly, lightening your mood a little. You chuckled, pushing a braid behind your ear.

"Yeah, it was horrible. It was so hot that day too, and I had to work for like 6 hours," You shook your head at the memory of the sizzling heat and Jaebum constantly running his hand through his dark mane, sunglasses shielding his eyes and sweat lightly beading his forehead. "Hmm. I guess it wasn't so bad."

"I wish it wasn't still hot." Namjoon looked up at the sky, and you followed suit. "I'm over this heat."

"Seriously." You were looking at the moon, and you briefly wondered if Namjoon liked the moon, or the stars, or the sky in its entirety. You wanted to ask, but the sudden honk from your Uber brought you back.

"You know, we probably just wasted like 3 minutes waiting for this guy, and we would've been halfway there already if we walked." Namjoon walked down the steps, approaching the car door and opening it up for you to enter.

"Namjoon?" The driver asked, looking at you, then to Namjoon, who raised his hand in a light wave. "Alright, cool. People have been jacking other people's rides all night, so I just had to make sure."

You chuckled as you sat down, imagining a bunch of drunk college students getting into random cars and disgruntled ones waiting for theirs to arrive.

Namjoon shut the door quickly, and the drive took off, repeating the residence hall you lived in. You looked out the window for a moment before turning to Namjoon, asking "You live on campus?"

Namjoon turned to you from his phone, his face illuminated by the glow before he locked it, tucking it into his pocket. "Yeah, I live in Copperfield Hall." It sounded familiar, and you tried to remember if that was close to you or far. Most of the residence halls on campus were pretty spaced out, except for the freshman dorms.

"I hope it's not too long of a walk for you."

"No, not at all." He shooed the thought away. "Besides, I don't mind walking."

"Of course not." You said, smiling down at your hands.

There was a brief moment of silence (not including the radio, which was turned pretty low anyways), about 20 seconds long, and you felt your stomach turn in anxiousness. Lifting your foot up to rest under your thigh, you cleared your throat slightly.

Namjoon broke the silence with "So...did you guys date or something?"

Your palms already started getting sweaty and your rubbed them quickly against your jeans. "No." It was a half lie. You both fell in the "or something" category, but you didn't even want to say that much. It wasn't really any of his business to ask so you didn't feel the need to tell the full truth.

Namjoon chuckled dryly, and you turned to look at him. He was looking downwards, and you couldn't really read his expression, even though he looked amused. "Sorry I asked I just...you guys looked like exes running into each other after a nasty breakup." He turned to you, and his eyes were serious. You could see it, even in the darkness of the car, and you bit your lip nervously, quickly avoiding his eyes. Could he tell that you half lied? Did he already know the truth from Jaebum himself?

"How do you know JB?" You asked, trying to come off more relaxed than you actually were. Anything just to get off the topic of you.

Namjoon replied easily. "Him and Jackson are brothers. Like, fraternity brother, not actual brothers." As if realizing he was sitting forward in his seat, he leaned back, scratching the back of his head where the hair was buzzed. "They both were in the same line in Spring semester so they're close."

You nodded your head in understanding, finger tapping against the seat of the car. This was the longest 10 minutes you've ever experienced. You wanted to avoid Namjoon's eyes, to maybe avoid talking for the rest of the ride, but you knew that wouldn't work, and you didn't want to ruin this. Whatever that might be. Was this anything at all?

"Oh, before I forget," Namjoon took out his phone, handing it to you. You blinked a couple of times before taking it, looking at it, as if not knowing what to do with it. He laughed, unlocking it and starting a new message. "Put your number in."

"Oh!" You sucked your teeth at yourself, muttering "Duh, of course, what else would you have been doing?"

"I was totally just giving you my phone, Y/N." He teased lightly, head leaning and hovering pretty close to yours. You rolled your eyes, typing in your number and then sending yourself a simple text of your name.

"Here," You looked up, happy you didn't say more or less you would've stuttered. He was closer than you expected, and you sucked in your bottom lip, quickly looking down at his phone again to avoid his eyes. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, but you ignored it.

"Great," He took his phone, looking at what you had written before typing something. You looked down at your knee, seeing his knee was almost touching yours with the way his body was turned to you.

Your phone buzzed again, and you looked at him, to which he raised his eyebrow as if in question. You took your phone out, checking the messages from him.

Messages 11:45PM +1 (566) 301-9924 I think it's kinda rude that the driver is playing some trash on the radio instead of offering his aux cord, but thats just me

You giggled, covering it slightly with your hand. Namjoon chuckled, whispering "Seriously! It's just common courtesy."

Silence fell in the car again, and you looked down at your knees again, both of them now touching without you realizing. You found yourself looking up at him again as he was already looking down at you. There was enough space between you both, but you still felt as if there was none.

You wanted to kiss him. You blinked, eyes trying to find a sign that said he wanted to do the same. And you saw it, saw in the corner of your eye the way he swallowed almost nervously. Wasn't that something?

Without having a second thought, you started leaning in, glancing down at his lips as you did. His eyes lidded slightly, and yours followed.

Then he was pulling back, like by some invisible string you couldn't see, and your eyes widened slowly, watching him look down at his hand, then close his eyes tight as if realizing something. Your blinked once, not really understanding, then twice, wondering if you had read him wrong.

"We're here!" The driver spoke up, and you turned, reaching for your car door and yanking the handle roughly, pushing it open and trying not to slam the door shut out of frustration. You looked around, recognizing the block of your college campus that would lead up to your residence hall. You walked around the car, standing on the sidewalk.

You heard Namjoon say a quick "Have a good night," before turning around and facing you, looking slightly apologetic. You gave him a tight lipped smile, not even wanting to bring it up, even if it just happened. It was embarrassing enough to read a guy wrong and lean in for a kiss; you didn't want him feeling sorry for you.

"I um..." He cleared his throat, stepping away from the car as it took off down the street. "Didn't want to kiss you."

You furrowed your eyebrows at him before rolling your eyes and turning around, beginning to walk to your dorm. "Alright, cool."

"Not like that, I mean-" Namjoon groaned lowly from behind you, catching up with you with long strides. "I mean I didn't want to kiss you then."

You glared up at him, but he didn't shrink back from it. "Whatever, I really don't care."

"Do you care if I said I did wanna kiss you? At the party?"

You don't mean to, but you freeze in your steps, looking at him. You waited, wondering if he'd continue, and he took your silence as a sign to. As he spoke, you began to walk again.

"Like, I don't know you, but I wanted to kiss you. And it may not be that deep but I'm not just trying to kiss you until you're in my bed." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and again he looked a little awkward, like how he did at the party when it was just the two of you, talking. Your expression softened. What was he trying to say?

"So what?" You finally spoke, not sure where he was going with his words. "You wanna hold my hand or something?”

Namjoon laughed, dimples poking out and you smiled faintly back. You liked his laugh. He shook his head.

"I wanna hang out sometime again. If you want to."

You really did think about it, and you wanted to say yes. What was really stopping you? You weren't entirely sure if you liked Namjoon yet. But then again, he sounded as though he wasn't entirely sure if he liked you either. And that was good, wasn't complicated.

"We'll see." You replied, looking at him. He once again had already been looking at you. He nodded once, dimples appearing again as he smiled.

"I guess we will."

Solana and Mina both looked at you as you finished recalling the car ride, both of them quiet for a moment. You had just changed the unknown number in your phone to 'Joonie' when Solana finally spoke.

"So...what does that mean exactly?" Mina asked, playing with the rip in her jeans.

You shrugged, beginning to reply back to Namjoon. "Hell if I know." You sent a quick text of Dionysus must like me a lil bit. "I mean, I think he's saying he's interested in me?”

“And you? You're into him, right?” Solana asked, eyebrow raising. You shrugged again, feeling your phone buzz in your hands. You looked at your phone, seeing a reply from Namjoon already. “Well if you are then you gotta cut it off with JB.”

You made a face at her, lip turned up slightly. “Cut what off? I told you we're not a thing anymore.”

“You know his girl was at the party,” Mina said, rising to her feet and walking over to your small fridge by your desk, looking in the small food pantry above it.

“How do you know what she looks like?”

“Didn't you see what I sent on Snapchat?” Solana rolled her eyes, grabbing your phone from your hands and unlocking it easily. She opened the app and you looked over her shoulder as she opened the short video you had sent.

It was pretty dark, but you could still see well enough with the pink lighting in the room. There was someone’s shoulder that kept getting into the shot, but you could still see the side of Jaebum’s face, a cup to his lips and his eyes squinted in what you assumed to be a smile. His arm was woven around a girl's waist, her hair long. She was short, the top of her head matching up to his shoulder. The video was muted, but you didn't care about what they were talking about. All you cared about was Jaebum leaning down to plant a kiss on the girl's lips. It made your stomach turn, and you wish it didn't. You unknowingly glared at your phone as the video ended, and Solana closed out of the app. "Did he try something with you last night?"

"No, he was just shocked to see me at his frat's party. Like I'm not allowed to have a good time or something." You scoffed at the recollection. "He even got mad that I was hanging with some other guy."

"Seriously?" Mina chuckled, shaking her head while opening a small bag of almonds. "He's a piece of work. What did he expect?"

"Well he obviously expects you to bend at his will. He texted you at 3 in the morning, and nothing good ever happens after 3 AM." You gave Solana a look and she gave one back. "What? It was like the most recent unread texts on your phone, I just glanced at it." You shook your head at her, and she pouted slightly as if to apologize. You knew that both Mina and Solana had their fingerprint embedded into your phone, as you had to theirs. You never had anything to hide except Jaebum, and regardless of that, you trusted them both.

"You didn't open them did you?"

"Y/N please. Do you know me at all?" She handed your phone back, and your thumb hovered over the Message app. "I saw the words come over and hard. You should tell him to go fuck himself. Or better, tell him to go fuck his girlfriend."

Mina sucked her teeth, sitting down in your desk chair with . "No, tell him that you're not gonna lower yourself to be some side chick for a guy that didn't even want to be anything more to begin with."

"I can't tell him that." You quickly said, locking your phone and tapping it against your thigh. "I don't even know if I wanted to be more with him to begin with, if that's what I wanted I could've said something."

"And so could he! May I remind you that you saw him on a date with someone and you waited for him to say something about it, which he didn't," Mina countered. "He obviously didn't wanna waste time trying to figure out if he liked you more than a fuck buddy, but now that he sees you with a guy he wants you again?"

"Besides, it was obvious that you were into him." Solana interjected, picking at her nails. You folded your arms, looking down at your lap. "It's like...the way you would talk about him. Remember that time you called us and talked about how all you two did was watch a movie and order Chinese food?"

Your cheeks burned at the memory. "Yeah, I remember."

When you both first started this, you would see each other during weekends, usually late at night. You'd have two or three rounds of sex, smoke breaks in between, and then you'd be gone. No reason to stay longer than necessary. But then he had texted you to come over one day in late September, saying he wanted to watch a movie. You assumed he just didn't want to be so blunt with insinuating he wanted to fuck, but when you got there, he ordered Chinese food and you both watched the second Transformers movie. You had seen it before but he explained how he'd never seen any of the movies from the franchise, so you had just sat through the whole thing, the both of you joking about what it would be like if the robots existed in real life.

He had ended the night with a peck on the lips, knowing what would happen if the kiss got any deeper. You walked back to your dorm feeling strangely elated, and you had gushed to your friends about it like some school girl. The following night he had invited you over for sex, and the elation went away.

"He must've known you were into him. He couldn't be that blind." Solana finished. You rubbed your temple, unlocking your phone again to finally open the messages he had sent. "He can choke for that, honestly. And now he's still trying, even though he has a girlfriend? Scum."

"Actual scum." Mina agreed, nodding her head. Their words made you more frustrated towards the entire situation. They were right, there wasn't any getting around it, but you couldn't help but think that you were partially at fault.

"He was drunk when he texted me." And hard. "Said he misses me."

Solana sucked her teeth, grumbling "Fucking men..." as Mina rolled her eyes.

"Of course he misses you. His new girl probably isn't good in bed or something."

You clenched your fist, voicing your thoughts. "Is it stupid that I wanna go over there? Just...to call him out on his shit?"

"Yes. Yes that is extremely stupid," Solana let out a dry chuckle, making grabby hands at Mina for the almonds. Your eyes followed the bag as Mina scooted over in the chair, stretching her arm out to pass them. "You're reopening a door that you need to keep closed, boo."

"Well give her some credit, Lana. She did blow up at him last night." Mina patted your knee as if to console you only a little bit. "Showing up at his door, saying it to his face? That's powerful, and you need to show him that you're not to be played with."

Solana held the almond on her bottom lip, as if questioning if she wanted to eat it. "Mm, I guess. I still don't think you should but I'm not gonna tell you what to do. If you do, you need to cut to the chase. Don't even step into his apartment."

"Exactly," Mina agreed, and your head swished between them both as they spoke. "You need to say "I'm more than just a fuck, and I'm not gonna be waiting for you to get your head out of your ass to admit that." You know?"

Solana clapped, and you laughed at her praise of Mina's advice. Your friends were making light of the situation, even though you knew that they were serious about everything they said. And you knew they were right.

"So?" You looked to Solana,, both her and Mina sharing a look that clearly said "What are you going to do?"

You folded your lips as you unlocked your phone, finally beginning to type a reply.

You I'll be over in like an hour.

You were chewing at your bottom lip so hard as you walked up the stairs, the weight of the possible outcomes of doing this heavy on your shoulders. You knew it was something you had to do, and as much as your friends had hyped you up to do so, you still weren't sure if you were strong enough to follow through with your plan. Last night, the presence of people, the sound of the party, it gave you enough means to yell and get angry at Jaebum. But with the absence of strangers and the silence of his apartment building, you began doubting yourself.

Of course, this wasn't the moment to doubt yourself. You wanted to do this, so here you were, at his front door. You weren't about to turn around now. Letting out a wavering sigh, you knocked on the door. Your eyes trailed down to your feet as you waited, but you quickly tightened your jaw, looking directly into the peephole as if he could've been looking back.

'You can do this. Stay outside. Say what you're feeling, every last thing. And then leave.' You thought, the tasks having no need for distractions. You wouldn't get distracted.

The door opened and there Jaebum stood. You took in the entirety of him without meaning to, but he looked okay. Actually he looked really good. Black t-shirt with gray sweatpants, bare feet, and a gold chain around his neck. His hair flopped forward, not lifeless but not styled in any kind of way. He looked natural and in his habitat, and that made you nostalgic of the times when you had come over.

You both stayed silent, and you wondered if he'd speak first, or if he was waiting for you to. Not wasting anymore time, you started with "Are you just going to stare at me or say something?"

He blinked in surprise, as if snapping out of some trance, and he cleared his throat, jaw tightening slightly. "Hey. I didn't think you'd come."

"I said I would," You folded your arms, glancing down at the dark wood of the hallway to the lighter wood of his living room. He didn't make any indication he was going to move.

"Yeah well you say a lot of things," Jaebum shrugged, eyes boring into yours. You wanted to shrink back, but you shot a glare at him. He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't ask for you to come over to argue."

"And I'm not here for that either," You took in a deep breath, feeling your palms sweat and rubbing them against your sleeves. "I just came to say what I need to and go."

Jaebum folded his lips, rubbing his jaw slightly. He already looked frustrated, obviously not expecting your straightforwardness. "Well, come on in, I guess."

"No, that's okay." You stood your ground, absentmindedly taking your braids and pushing them over your shoulder. Jaebum's eyebrows shot up, then back down in confusion.

"You're not gonna stand outside in my hallway." Jaebum didn't leave any room for another option, but you still didn't move. You were in no position to be ordered around. He sucked his teeth, and you could tell he was growing irritated. "Look, I invited you over, you wouldn't be here if-"

"If I didn't have something to say, which I do." You cut him off, feeling the heat rise in your chest as you became angrier. "So let me say it so I can stop wasting my time for even showing up here."

Jaebum scoffed, shaking his head. "No."

You blinked repeatedly in shock. "What?"

"I said no. If you're going to talk to me then we're gonna do it in here." Jaebum folded his arms, mimicking your position, and you suddenly felt the shift of his temper. "It's not that big of a deal right? You talk, you leave, that's it."

You stood there in silence, taking in his words. You had every right to leave that second, but you had come here to do something, and you'd be damned if you'd go without saying what's on your mind.

"Fine." You said, crossing the barrier of his door and brushing past him. You decided that trying to make yourself comfortable was a bad idea, so you opted out of taking a seat on his comfy couch, leaning against the counter of his walk in kitchen right across from it.

Jaebum shut the door behind you, slowly walking over to lean against the back of the couch, resting his hands against it and overall looking relaxed. It bothered the fuck out of you. "So," he began, and you tightened your jaw. "I know you probably came here to curse me out or something-"

"Smart guess." You interrupted, tilting your head in mock amusement. Jaebum gave you a look and you just gave him a tight lipped smile back, no amusement evident.

"I shouldn't have talked to you like that last night. I was pissed. I really didn't expect to see you so soon and...after you called..." He trailed off, looking away from you. You felt something warm in your chest, and you weren't sure what the feeling was coming from. Why weren't you yelling? Why weren't you cutting him off or saying all of the things you said you would? This was your chance. "I thought you wouldn't ever want to see me again."

You scoffed lightly, looking down at your feet. "I didn't. I didn't want to, I didn't plan on it."

"Y/N that was my fraternity's party, do you really expect me to believe you showed up expecting me not to be there?" Jaebum inquired, his eyebrows coming together.

You sighed, rubbing your temple. "I got dragged to the party, I didn't even recognize the house, I-" You sucked your teeth, shaking your head. "I'm not explaining this to you, you don't have to believe me."

Jaebum breathed out through his nose, running his hand through his hair. "Whether you wanted to see me or not, I wanted to see you."

"For what?" You demanded. "What more do you have to say to me?”

"I miss you, alright?" He pushed off of the couch. He hadn't taken a step closer, but you backed into the counter anyways. It pressed into your lower back uncomfortably, but you didn't care. "I can't stop thinking about you."

"So?" You choked out a laugh. "Am I supposed to care? Supposed to be happy about that?"

"But I know you care," Jaebum retorted. "You can keep denying it when we both know that's not true. You miss me, you said it yourself yesterday."

Yesterday felt like months ago, especially with the way your feelings for Jaebum had shifted. To what though? Did you hate him? Did you still miss him? It was a teeter totter of feelings. "Even if I missed you, it wouldn't matter because I only came here to tell you that I'm done with this, with you."

He took a step forward and your waist pressed further into the table. "That's it?"

"Do you want me to keep talking? About how you're an asshole who has no right to miss me? Or even try to reach out to me?" You were beginning to ramble, and your chest felt warm with all of the pent up anger. "You're a piece of work, you know that? Am I supposed to just sit around waiting for you to get a damn clue about what you want?" Jaebum was stepping closer, but you didn't back up further, your anger giving you a kind of power to not shrink back. "I don't care if you miss me. I don't care if you can't get me out of your head. I was a good fucking thing, and you let me go because you were scared." You paused, realizing what you said and feeling your body tremble at all the emotion running deep in your words.

Jaebum hardly looked phased, and that unnerved you. "And you weren't? Would you have done anything about it?"

You blinked, locking eyes with his. "Maybe I would've. I don't know if I was or wasn't scared. You didn't give me any choice to be. Before I even had a chance to, there you were, on a date with someone else. And that told me everything I needed to know." The intensity of his gaze wavered your new found energy to speak your mind, so you looked straight ahead, tightening your jaw. "And now it just doesn't matter."

"It could matter." Jaebum took another step forward, and he might as well be towering over you. "It does matter."

You scoffed, turning your head. He continued anyways, talking to the side of your face.

"You're right, Y/N. I'm stupid for letting you go like that. I should've spoken up...even if I didn't know how you felt about me," You pressed your tongue inside your cheek. "I knew how I felt about you."

You were silent, not knowing what to say. This is something you would've wanted before. Now you weren't sure how to feel about the confession. You sighed, leaning away from the counter slightly. "I'm done."

"I'm not." Jaebum rested a hand on the counter, trapping you. You felt your heartbeat quicken even though your brain was screaming profanities. "Just tell me what I can do to make this better."

"Nothing. There isn't anything left for you to do Jaebum. You have a girlfriend, remember?" You pointed out, trying to push his arm with your side so you could make your way to the door. "I'm not some side chick."

Jaebum's arm didn't budge. "Then I'll end it with her."

You paused, not looking at him but simply thinking. You were stupid for even thinking about it, because what kind of person would that make you if you allowed him to end a relationship just to be with you? You didn't know this girl but you were sure she didn't deserve that.

You closed your eyes. "Jaebum-"

He cut you off almost immediately. "Just say the word and I will. You're the only thing that has been on my mind." He was closer, talking directly in your ear.

"I don't care." You sounded exasperated, refusing to turn to look at him. You grabbed his wrist, trying to push it away to let you through, but again he didn't budge.

All you got was the familiarity of his skin, of the wrists you used to hold down when you'd feel bold and ride him, keep him from touching you like he wanted oh-so-badly. You'd have him groaning and cursing just to feel your waist under his fingers or your nipple on his tongue, and you would just grin at how desperate he'd get over you, tease him until you were leaning down to kiss him, wanting to feel the way his sounds made your body buzz, until you'd let him go and he'd grip your hips like a lifeline, lift them up then down and have you moaning his name like it was the only word you knew.

You opened your eyes, seeing your hand still resting on his wrist, before your eyes trailed up his arms, his shoulders, then his face. You both locked eyes and you felt paralyzed.

"You can keep telling me you don't care but I know you." Jaebum spoke, and he was leaning closer until there was only a breath separating you two. Just the feeling had you glancing down at his lips, and you mentally cursed at yourself. "I know exactly what you're thinking about."

"What am I thinking? Hmm?" You glared slightly, not wanting to come off small, even though you could feel your walls shaking as if wanting to crumble. "Enlighten me."

"You still feel something for me." There wasn't a tremor in his voice that made you believe he was unsure of what he was saying. "You still want me, still miss me. Miss the way I'd hold you and kiss you and fuck you."

You gritted your teeth, balling your fist at the way he spoke, as if he knew where he had you, his affect on you. He had power over you and it made your stomach flutter and turn at the same time.

You leaned closer until your forehead touched his, spitting the words out "Fuck you."

Jaebum lurched forward, capturing your lips in a rough kiss that was made of heat and fury. It made your head spin, and you gripped the counter to balance yourself, feeling his hands cup your cheeks like he knew you'd try to pull away. The wrath flew all the way up to your mouth, your tongue finding his like it had been missing something for so long, and your body trembled at the familiarity, the way his teeth sunk into your bottom lip, so angry, so desperate.

You brought your hand up to dig your nails into his shoulder, not sure if to do it in the way he liked, or because you wanted him to hurt. When he groaned against into your mouth, you pushed him back enough to lift your other hand and smack him across the face, his head whipping to your right.

There was silence that kept being invaded by you trying to catch your breath, lips wet from the messy kiss, Jaebum's face still turned in the direction of the slap. You could see his jaw tighten, the way he brought his hand up to touch it as if not believing it before his eyes looked to you. You glared at him, gripping the counter again as if grounding yourself.

You bit your bottom lip, lightly wincing at the small indents of where his teeth had just been, running a tongue along it. Just the feeling turned you on, and you cursed at yourself mentally. He rubbed his reddening cheek, his body straightening up again to tower over you.

You reached for the front of his shirt, yanking him back down to kiss him again, not waiting for a sign to slide your tongue back in his mouth. The pleasured sigh he released was answer enough. His hands slipped down to your sides, slowly tracing them like he was taking time to remember what they felt like under his fingertips, pressing into spots he knew made you weak. A little whine escaped your lips, and you knew he noticed with the way his hands dropped down to your ass, squeezing to hear another whine.

"Fuck, I missed that sound..." He spoke against your lips, and you licked your lips, wanting them back on yours again. He pressed your body further onto his until your fronts were touching, your chest pressing into his. You rolled your hips lightly, hoping for some friction and feeling all of him in his sweatpants. He pulled you back into the kiss, your hands getting lost in his hair, tangling your fingers in them and keening at its memorable softness. Every touch felt like another memory of him, of lust that you couldn't forget even if you wanted to.

He suddenly lowered his hands to your thighs, pulling them apart to stand in between your legs, rolling his hips to meet with yours. You brought your hands down to his shoulders, trying to find purchase to keep your legs from giving out at the sensation of his length running against your core.

Your brain must've short circuited before realizing what was happening because in an instant, you were pulling back, shaking your head. "No...no, we can't do this." You panted lightly, feeling your heart begin to slow down.

Jaebum lifted your thighs until you were in the air, your legs unconsciously wrapping around his waist as he sat you atop the counter. Before you knew it, he was kissing you again, and you were kissing back.

You pulled back, putting your hands on his shoulders to keep him at bay. He looked at you with half lidded eyes, trying to lean in to kiss you again.

"Are you trying to tell me you don't want this?" He whispered, hovering over your lips. You let out a shaky breath, wishing your head wasn't so clouded in desire.

"You know this is wrong..." You shook your head, turning your head to avoid his kiss.

"I know that you pulled me into a kiss," He talked lowly, his lips trailing your cheek until he kissed it, moving down to your jaw. You shivered, closing your eyes. "I know how bad I want to touch you." His hand trailed down your front until his hand slipped under your shirt. You bit your lip, wanting more but knowing better. "I know how good I can have you feeling if you'd just let me."

"Jaebum-" His fingers unbuttoned the front of your jeans and you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop."

What did you want? If you thought about it, you'd start thinking about everything else, and you'd realize just how much you shouldn't be doing this. Jaebum had something over you, and now that you're seeing it firsthand, you weren't sure what you could do about it.

You bit your lip hard, pulling him in closer with your legs. "Show me how much you miss me."

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