One of YOU and HIM's OLDEST scripts (Patreon)

Before Adam became Adam, he was originally named Damien and the entire concept surrounding the game was quite a bit different. (And oh so poorly written) I figured I'll share some of that old script with you!

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The inherent discomfort from being chained to a support beam isn’t what aggravates you. 

What aggravates you is that the man in front of you won ten out of ten times against you at CARDz without batting an eyelash. Now he’s rubbing salt in the wound and wearing a shit eating grin. You toss your cards down in frustration, the chains attached to your wrists  rattling, and you fold your arms over your chest. 

You: Rematch. Loser makes dinner for the rest of the week.

He crosses his long legs and puckers his lips, staring at the ceiling in thought.

Cool eyes meet yours.

???: Are you really in a position to be bargaining? As I seem to recall, you owe me a great deal of things after the last ten rounds. 

He lifts his fingers up and starts ticking off everything.

???: Laundry, dishes, sweeping, and I remember something about a ki-

You put your hands over his mouth to silence him. 

You: I never promised a kiss.

You feel him grin under your hands and he slowly pulls them down. 

???: Just teasing. But are you sure you want to add to that list? 

You relax against the beam and sigh.

You: Guess not. 

He watches you as you pout. Then he collects the cards and shuffles them. 

???: Alright, fine. One more match for all the marbles. I win, I get to ask for anything I want. You win, you don’t have to do any of the chores and can ask for anything you want. Deal?

You perk up as he deals out six cards each and you gather them, holding them close to your chest. The starting card is a 9 and the shape on the card is a heart. You can either match the shape or the number to get rid of your cards. You look at your hand and frown. You have a 9. You toss that down. 

After a few minutes, you slam down your last card and throw your hands up in victory.

You: YES! YES! YES! 

He watches you with amusement as he picks up your discarded cards and places them back in their box.

???: Alright, your wish is my command. Lay it on me.

Choice:

Ask for a kiss (Potentially leads to bad end 1)

Ask for his name (Leads to true ending) 

Ask him to set you free (Potentially leads to bad end 2)

Ask him to give you a nick name (potentially leads to neutral end 1, worship end)

Choice picked:

Ask for a kiss (Potentially leads to bad end 1)

You: I want a kiss.

His eyes widen in surprise. Guess he didn’t expect something like that. He rubs the tattoo on his arm, eyes darting back and forth between you and the ground. 

You: You don’t want to?

???: I’m just…surprised is all. I never really expected you to ask for something like that. 

Does he sound a little disappointed? You blush in shame. This was a stupid idea. 

You: Sorry, we don’t have-

You squeak as his face comes a lot closer to yours. You can see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes and he’s really close. His breath fans your lips and you swallow hard.

???: Kissing isn’t a bad thing…

He tilts his head a little, eyes glazing over as he stares at you…but not you exactly. His mind is elsewhere. In a memory perhaps. 

???:Just as long as it doesn’t lead to other things, I’m fine with it. 

He inches closer.

???: Just keep that in mind, okay?

You: Okay.

He tips your chin up and every nerve ending spikes. 

Okay. Don’t be nervous. 

He’s just a guy.

 A hot guy who may or may have not kidnapped you for some weird unexplained reason, but he’s really not all bad. He’s kind of cute even. So what if you don’t have any morals or sense of self preservation? You got a chance to kiss a super hot dude you’re gonna take it.

You screw your eyes shut and feel the faintest brush of his lips. You barely feel it at all. Then he delivers another kiss, this one sweet and chaste but firmer. 

By the time you open your eyes, he’s already on his feet and heading for the kitchen. 

He’s trembling and you can’t tell if it’s from fear or restraint or both.

When he looks over his shoulder at you, his expression is schooled into one of normalcy and you wonder if you just imagined it. 

???: Want something to eat?

(Routes for true ending, neutral end, and bad end combine after this point. Although some routes will have the name Damien instead of question marks. )

Choice picked: 

Ask for his name (Leads to true ending)

You: Can you tell me your name…? We never formally introduced ourselves and well…you already know my name.

He looks a little surprised by this wish. 

???: Are you sure you don’t want anything else?

You: Yeah, I’m sure. Why?

His cheeks become tinged with pink and he fiddles with the woven bracelet on his arm.

???: You want to know about me.

You laugh. 

You: It’s just a name.

???: My name though. I mean, you could ask for anything. You could ask me to free you, let you go home and see your family, but you’re asking about me instead.

You: Okay and if I asked to go home would you let me?

???: …Fair point. 

You lean back against the support beam.

You: I figured I should get to know my captor at least. Plus, I hate just referring to you as “that dude” or “kidnapper” in my head. I like putting names with a face.

You: Plus, you threw the last match on purpose. 

He’s got half the decency to appear sheepish. 

You: So, your name is what I want. That’s all. 

???: Damien. 

You: Damien…okay, I’m gonna be honest. You don’t look like a Damien.

Damien: Oh, and what do I look like then?

You think about it for a moment.

You: Jonathan?

Damien: You think I look like a Jonathan?

You: Okay, I suck with names. You can see why my mom and dad didn’t want me naming my little sister.

Damien: What did you want to name your little sister?

You: okay let me preface this with the fact that I was like, two…

You: I only named my stuffed animals thus far.

You: Not even a pet-

Damien: You’re stalling, sweetheart. 

You groan: Okay, fine. I wanted to name her Hugsley. 

Damien snorts and covers his face with his hand to conceal his grin. 

Damien: Pure genius. I can’t see why you’re parent’s would decide on a different name. 

You: I’m starting to feel offended here.

Damien: Sorry, it’s a great name…for a pet maybe. 

You take off your shoe and chuck it at his head to which he dodges easily. He gets up and picks up your discarded shoe with a teasing gleam in his eye.

Damien: I’m keeping this. 

You chuck your other one and he laughs before grabbing the other and heading for the kitchen. 

He places your discarded shoes next to the dining table. 

Damien: You want something to eat? 

(Routes for true ending, neutral end, and bad end combine after this point. Although some routes will have the name Damien instead of question marks. )

All routes will converge after this point. 

Choice picked:

Ask him to give you a nickname (potentially leads to neutral end 1, worship end)

You: Give me a nickname.

???: A nickname? Why?

You shrug.

You: Honestly, I can’t think of anything better that seems plausible. I know you’ll turn me down if I ask you to set me free. And besides, I think nicknames are cute.

He appears slightly amused. 

???: Typically people don’t ask for nicknames. They just tend to be gifted naturally.

You: You don’t wanna give me one?

???: No, it’s not that. And I’ve kind of had one in mind, but I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable and feel like I’m being condescending.

You’re in chains and trapped in his house. But pet names are where he draws the line? 

He’s one weird dude, but you kind of already knew that.

You: What’s the name?

???: Angel. When I first saw you, that was the first thing that came to mind.

You pause for a moment looking thoughtful and you can see him shift awkwardly.

Almost as if he’s waiting for you to make fun of the nickname. 

You: Interesting choice.

You say at last. 

You: But angel isn’t bad. Granted, I don’t think I can live up to the name, but it’s kinda cute. I like that one.

He relaxes and his gaze softens.

???: Angel it is then.

Getting up, he stretches his long limbs, cracking a few bones here and there before heading towards the kitchen. 

???: You want something to eat?

Routes for true ending, neutral end, and bad end combine after this point. Although some routes will have the name Damien instead of question marks. Or the nickname, Angel will be added. 

Damien or ???: I’m pretty flexible in the kitchen with what I can make. Let me see what I’ve got on hand.

He shuffles around in the fridge, examining fresh produce and the sell by date on some eggs before returning them. 

Damien or ???: How does breakfast for dinner sound? I’m kind of craving biscuits and gravy myself. 

You: Honestly, anything sounds pretty good. I’m starving. 

Damien or ???: You got it.

He bustles around and hums a low tune under his breath as he works. You listen intently, trying to make out the words between the clattering of pots and pans. You recognize the song as a religious one sung in your local church. You and your family only went a few times for special holidays when your grandparents came over and insisted Jesus was a pivotal part of celebrating. 

You cried a lot during those times. Mom and dad escorted you out. You remember the shouting and yelling after you got into the car with your parents. 

Crying in church wasn’t appropriate.

Choices: 

Inquired about the song (Could lead to true ending or neutral ending)

Flirt with him while he works (Leads to bad ending 1)

All routes converge here. 

Choice Picked: Flirt with him while he works (Leads to bad ending 1)

A man in the kitchen. A primal part of your brain short circuits and finds the prospect hot and the trait a desirable one.

Who doesn’t find a man who knows how to cook, sexy?

Or maybe it helps that he’s good looking. 

(Only this dialogue is given if you two kissed) Or maybe the kiss from earlier is what’s causing it. Despite how brief it was, you can still feel his breath fanning your mouth. You wonder how far you want to push things. How far you want to go with this.

You’re treading on dangerous ground. 

You see the fire and choose to play hopscotch over it. You like the idea of getting burned and this dangerous man being the one to press a lighter against your skin. 

He warned you, but you really don’t care. 

You know what you want, and you want him. 

And maybe that’s the reason he wants you here.

Because he wants you too. 

You: I don’t know what it is, but a man cooking is pretty sexy. 

Okay, that’s the extent of your flirting. You kind of suck at it. But you called him sexy. That’s a little flirty, right?

He stiffens, dropping his spatula, spraying bits of sausage and gravy everywhere. He whirls back around, startled by the shift in conversation. Coming onto him catches him off guard to a degree that you’ve never seen before. 

Heat sparks behind his eyes followed by an undercurrent of fear. 

You noticed this after your kiss. The extreme shift in power. Almost like you have him chained up, while you walk freely.

You lick your lips.

You love this feeling. Your desire is becoming almost uncontrollable. 

 You: Did I say something wrong? 

Damien chews on his lip ring, avoiding your gaze. 

Damien or ???: No, just…I’m the baseline of what qualifies as an operating human adult. The bare minimum, really. Everyone should know how to cook. 

You point to yourself.

You: I don’t. Care to teach me?

Damien or ??? tosses the fallen spatula into the sink and retrieves another one.  Flustered, he flounders for a second before formulating a response. 

Damien or ???: I…yeah, sure, I guess. I’ll have to swap your chains for handcuffs though. Give me a sec.

He places the sizzling pan aside for a second  before heading into a room directly across from the kitchen. There’s a bit of shuffling and drawers being slammed open and shut before he lets out a noise that indicates he found what he wanted. 

Upon his return, he reveals a pair of pink and fuzzy handcuffs. The kind you’d find at a sex shop. You give him a pointed look, brow raised in amusement. 

His jaw sets firmly in place. He refuses to rise to the bait and you’re a bit disappointed by the reaction. You press your luck a little further. 

You: Soooooooo…Get those from Dirty and Flirty, did you?

 Damien or ???: LoveBunny, actually.

 He kneels down next to you and works on exchanging your restraints. Your arms almost feel weightless once he tightens the cuffs around your wrists and removes the shackles. 

Damien or ???: I’ll have to keep them behind your back, but this should do for now. Here, let me help you up.

Your legs feel wobbly and you lean into him. You forgot what walking and standing felt like. A noise of near pleasure escapes your lips. He stares at you in surprise before shaking his head, as if to exercise the horny demons and guides you over to where he’s cooking.

He motions to the ingredients on the counter and explains his method of making gravy. The biscuits, you discover, are also homemade. 

Once he’s done, he gets back to heating the gravy mixture, his gaze intense when focused on a task. You kinda want to swap places with the gravy. 

The idea of him devouring you whole makes you rub your legs together.

You: Who taught you how to cook?

 Damien or ???: My mom, actually. Taught me from twelve and up. I kind of enjoy it. Helps me get out of my head for a little bit.

You: Hmm…

Choices: 

(Flirt) Ask for a taste (Heading for bad ending 1)

Study your surroundings

Choice picked: Ask for a taste (Heading for bad ending 1)

You: Can I have a bite?

 Damien or ???:  Of just the gravy?

You: Is something else up for grabs?

He pauses his stirring and mutters under his breath. His breathing grows slightly ragged, voice turning husky.

 Damien or ???:  You know what I meant. 

He lifts a spoonful of the gravy to your lips, his intense gaze now challenging you to go further. 

To cross that line. 

Your lips wrap around the scoopable part of the spoon and you make sure to make eye contact with him as you do so. 

What is this, a porn?

You don’t care. You’ve made your choices. 

Desire rules your thoughts.

(Picking two out of the three lustful choices will lead to bad ending 1 and 3. The path diverges at this point. This will be in a separate document. )

Choice picked: Inquired about the song (Could lead to true ending or neutral ending)

You: I recognize that song. You go to Hinston Church?

Damien or ???: : Used to. My dad and mom were pretty religious folks. I…didn’t really take after them, but I liked the song. My mom used to sing it to me as a lullaby when I was little. Worked every time whenever I had a tantrum about going to bed. When I miss her, I kinda start singing it I guess. 

You: Oh…I’m sorry. She passed?

Damien or ???: You could say that.

You: What do you mean?

Damien or ???: Nothing. Don’t worry about it. It’s in the past now.

He turns around and shovels a pile of gravy onto a plate over two steaming biscuits. You want to gather more information, but doing so risks causing him to clam up entirely. Better skirt around the topic about his mothers death until you gain his trust. Maybe in doing so, he’ll even open up about the real reason he’s keeping you here. 

Damien or ???: Speaking of my mom, she actually taught me how to cook. Viola!

You: You guys were close, huh?

Damien or ???: Yeah. It was often me and my mom against the world.

You: And your dad?

Damien or ???: Dad hated when I cooked in the kitchen. He yelled at mom for letting me use the stove, then went out to his car to smoke for a few hours to calm down. 

You: How old were you?

Damien or ???: Twelve. Mom figured teaching me how to make food might benefit me until I found a partner to do their share of the cooking. Not that dad himself ever cooked. Mom used to wish he’d help out, but dad…dad was dad.

You: I see…

Certain paths, those that lead to the neutral ending, true ending, and final bad ending, converge at this point. 

After twenty minutes, you find yourself back In the living room being hand fed biscuits and gravy. When you’re satisfied, he turns to his own serving and flicks on the TV. The news channel automatically pops up. A familiar face greets you on screen from when you’d just hit eighteen. 

Leave it to your mom and dad to give them an old photo rather than an up-to-date one.

News Caster: Today, police are still on the search for a missing person by the name of [insert players name]. They were last seen on CCTV footage walking home from a locally owned bar on Mid Street called Grill and Chill.  Their manager asked for a welfare check when they didn’t show up for their shift the next day. If you have any information pertaining to [insert player name], please call into the sheriff's office. They-

He swiftly changes channels. 

For the better, you think. Did your parents even notice you missing those twenty four hours? 

You: Do you think they miss me at all? 

Damien or ???: I…can’t say or speak for them. I’ve kept tabs, though and they’re…

You: Acting normally? Like Idon’t exist?