#felt like I needed to post art after using the chaos talks tag too much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rmnamjoons · 4 years ago

Text

Taking Flight [KNJ Oneshot]

➳ summary: More than a decade after the alien invasion that wiped out most of the planet, you and Namjoon are both in the Pilot Cadet Corps, training for if the alien attackers ever come back. What begins as a playful rivalry between two overachievers develops into a deep friendship and emotional bond, but when the aliens suddenly return and you and Namjoon are separated, you find out just what you’re willing to do to get back to him.

➳ pairing: pilot!Namjoon x pilot!reader

➳ genre: smut, sci fi au, post apocalypse au, alien invasion au, rivals to friends to lovers

➳ word count: 15.2k

➳ read on ao3, link to my masterlist

➳ tags: smut, reunion sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, emotional loving sex, soft dom namjoon, dirty talk (no degradation), rivals to friends to lovers, sexually charged fight/sparring scene when they’re rivals, previously seemingly unrequited love/mutual pining, shower sex, multiple positions, namjoon is needy and so in love

➳ warnings: unnamed character death/death mention, blood mention, injury mention/vague description

➳ a/n: I know this is kind of a niche genre for smut fics; I primarily wrote this for myself, and I definitely had fun and like what I came up with! What’s the point of fanfiction anyway, if not to have fun? Also, this takes place over a few years, and I tried to portray how Namjoon was feral and angry when he was younger but is now a loving gentle giant. Enjoy!

Everybody lost someone in the attacks that killed most of the planet. Friends. Family. Partners. You had lost everything and everyone, like most people who’d lived in the cities that no longer had names — what once had been centers of commerce, tourism, and civilization were now nothing more than craters, and with so few left who remembered them, what they’d once been were now lost to time.

You'd only survived by chance, really. You and your family had been in a tunnel leaving the city, on foot like everyone else, and when everything had turned to chaos, you’d gotten lost from your parents and sister. You still remembered the way people screamed and ran through the tunnel, their voices echoing harshly off the cement walls. You’d spotted someone hiding off to the side in a utility room in the tunnel, and when the blast hit the city center, that person had made you hide in the room too, their body shielding yours from the hellfire, melting around you.

You were five years old then. You were pretty sure your sister had been eight. You couldn’t remember what your parents or sister looked like, or your house, or where you’d gone to school, other than vague flashes and shapes of people who’d once been your whole world. All you’d had with you were the clothes on your back, and even those had been taken away once you’d gotten somewhere safe and been given something clean to change into.

After the ships fell and surviving aliens left, it had taken years to clear the rubble and start over. The attacks that changed and destroyed everything had also been a gift, or so they now preached, in which humanity was able to grow, learn, and become united. The religions and cults who now worshiped the alien attackers believed humanity had deserved extermination, but you liked the more academic approach to the alien race’s lessons: the technology humans had been able to reverse engineer from their fallen ships.

One of the many ways humanity had advanced in the last few years was flight technology. Planes were faster, turned sharper, could go farther, burned cleaner energy. The one thing everyone seemed to agree on was how important Earth’s planes had been in beating them, so that was where all the technology and progress was focused now.

You loved planes and flying, you always had, but the real reason you wanted to be a pilot, you held much closer to your chest: your entire life, you always felt like the attacks when you were young were just the beginning. Like an unhealthy obsession or open wound, it was all you could think about sometimes, what drove your every decision, what led you to the Pilot Cadet Corps. You wanted to be part of the team that took them down if they ever came back. You wanted to be ready.

You were eighteen when you’d joined the Corps. You’d jumped on that opportunity the first moment you were able, without so much as a second glance back at what you left behind. You’d been adopted fairly soon after the attacks, but your adopted parents never felt much like family.

The first full year of Corps was bootcamp. Bunk rooms were co-ed, and every moment of your lives was dictated down to the second. You woke up at six in the morning and ran laps around the track. You had as much free time as you earned between whenever you finished your laps and when breakfast started at seven: the faster you ran, the more free time you got.

Eight to noon was physical training. After lunch was different depending on the day: three days a week you had mental training for whatever field you were going into, mostly flight simulation for the pilots. Another day was more combat training, and the last was an alternate, for first aid, written tests, marksmanship, and other courses along those lines. After that you had more physical training, like sparring and hand-to-hand combat, then dinner, then free time. Lights out was strictly at ten-thirty every night, and then you’d start it all over again the next day.

Now, you stood in line with the other cadets training to be pilots, waiting to hear your class ranks. Every month, they would announce a ranking of all cadets, a score averaged in test results, simulator scores, and overall performance. The better you ranked, the better your placement once you graduated.

“Third place, Park. Eighty-nine point nine,” the sergeant read off, making a small boy a few rows away from you puff up his chest in pride. You weren’t sure why anyone would feel proud of not getting an A, but you pushed that thought away.

You swallowed hard, holding your breath. There were only two spots left, and if you’d scored higher than Park, that meant you got an A and were either in second or first place out of the whole class. You didn’t know everyone’s names yet, so you weren’t sure who you were competing with.

“Second place, Y/L/N. Ninety-five point two.”

You heard the impressed murmur of others in the class before all of them were silenced by a firm look from the sergeant. Your heart sank, your hands curling into tight fists. Second place? You’d been so sure before now that you were working harder than all the other cadets. You were smarter than them, faster, more focused. Who the fuck had beaten you?

“First place, Kim. Ninety-five point three.”

Your brow furrowed. You weren’t sure who this Kim was, but you set your jaw, becoming determined to learn everything about them so you could beat them. Whatever their weaknesses were, you’d find them and exploit them.

You snuck a glance around you, trying to figure out who Kim was, and nearly jumped out of your skin when the tall boy next to you made eye contact with you, raising one eyebrow in the most smug, cocky, asshole-ish look you’d ever seen. That one singular eyebrow quirk, the corner of his lip curling up barely noticeably, all of it made you want to seethe and strangle him.

You’d noticed this man before, but had never thought much of him. He was taller than all the other men, but he hadn’t come off as particularly smart or extraordinary. This guy was the one who’d beaten you?

Now that you looked at him, you noticed he was definitely very muscular. Had he beaten your score through his strength? You could work harder at weight lifting and beat him. Were his test scores perfect? You could make yourself study even more.

Whatever it was that made him first place, you’d find out and beat him.

II.

In the following weeks, you began to wonder how you’d ever missed Kim Namjoon.

You and Namjoon both worked harder than everyone else. You both trained longer, started earlier in the morning and kept going until you were the last ones left. You both pushed yourselves harder than all of your other classmates, academically and physically. Before he was placed first in the class, you hadn’t even noticed him, but now he was the bane of your existence, and you existed only to beat him and come out on top.

You were faster and more agile, but Namjoon was by far stronger. You almost wanted to dispute the scoring system; what use was strength for a pilot? You weren’t soldiers. He needed fast reflexes and precision, not fighting skills or the ability to deadlift two hundred pounds. Was he planning on picking up planes and throwing them at the alien ships? It was so stupid.

The second month of bootcamp, you were the top of the class, and Namjoon was second place now. You smiled smugly to yourself and kept your eyes focused forward, staying perfectly at attention like the other cadets, but you could feel his eyes on you and almost sense his focused anger, that same emotion you’d felt when he’d first beaten you.

After the ranking announcements, you went to combat training in the gym, but your instructor called out both your name and Namjoon’s before you could even get started.

“I want the two of you to spar,” the instructor said as the two of you ran up. “No rules, just fighting. You can use boxing, wrestling, martial arts, whatever you want — just don’t kill each other.”

You narrowed your eyes at Namjoon, almost expecting him to refuse to fight you, for being a girl. Besides occasional glares, the two of you had never so much as said a word to each other, but you figured smug alpha male assholes were all the same.

But instead, Namjoon smiled and said, “All right.” He almost seemed eager to get in the ring and teach you a lesson.

Now, you eyed him from across the ring, how he was watching you with a smug little smirk as he wrapped his knuckles.

“To win, pin the other person’s back to the mat for five full seconds,” your instructor said carefully. “Their back has to fully touch the ground, not just shoulders. They don’t have to be conscious to be pinned.”

You and Namjoon made eye contact at that.

“Whoever wins doesn’t have to run laps next week. Loser runs double laps before eating. You both ready?”

You and Namjoon ended up drawing a crowd of spectators.

The moment the instructor said start, you ran, jumped, and wrapped your legs around his head, twisting and throwing him to the ground so that he was on his back and you stood over his head, smirking down at his stupid surprised face.

He’d hit the mat hard, the breath completely knocked out of him. A few people in the crowd murmured quietly to themselves and quietly asked each other if the fight was already over. You let out a shaky breath, letting yourself feel proud for a split second as you glanced at the spectators, but before you could register what was happening, Namjoon grabbed you by both your legs, making you twist and fall hard on your back, too.

You tried to crawl away from him, but he just pulled you under him by your legs, climbing on top of you and trying to hold you down with his hands. You arched your back as high as you could, touching the mat only with your shoulders and ass as Namjoon fought to grab your wrists. He was on top of you, straddling your abdomen and trying to keep you down without actually touching your chest, and you watched him bite his lip and heard him growl as he focused on not getting hit while you thrashed beneath him.

You brought your leg up and kneed his kidney as hard as you could, making him groan before moving back to pin your legs down too. You could now easily keep your back fully off the mat, but he was straddling you much lower now, bending over you and still trying to grab your arms. This close, you could smell him, his sweat and masculine scent mixed with the cheap soap you all were given, and you had to push aside the fact you kind of liked the way he smelled.

You were panting hard, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each deep breath. You watched Namjoon as he glanced down at your breasts, before his eyes snapped back up at your face, his eyes wide as if he were surprised he’d let himself look.

“Having fun?” you teased, smirking up at him.

“Tons,” he growled, finally catching one of your hands and pinning it down by your wrist.

You hooked your leg up as far as you could, wrapping it around him and using his close proximity to your advantage. This seemed to catch Namjoon very off guard, and you felt more than heard him make a noise in surprise as you essentially embraced him, not giving him any space to move or do anything as you pulled your hand free and wrapped all your limbs around him, hanging off of him like a leach.

Namjoon sat back on his knees, and you held onto him, your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, waiting for your moment to use his weight against him and throw him on his back. He was squirming and wearing himself out, while you just squeezed him, hard enough you heard something in him crack.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled, trying to pry you off of him. Before you could answer, he grabbed you by your hair and jerked your head backwards, making you gasp and cry out. He started to force you off by getting his hands between your bodies, but you surprised him, grabbing his throat with both hands and squeezing.

Namjoon forcefully brought his hands down on your arms, bending them so that you let go of his neck, and now you were much closer to his face, nearly nose to nose as he still sat there on his knees with you hanging off of him. He held your wrists with both hands now as you tried to struggle free from him, and when you realized you couldn’t, you twisted one wrist, bringing his hand up to your mouth and biting down as hard as you could on the meat of his thumb.

He yelped and let go of you, but before you could use the moment to your advantage, he grabbed you and pushed you off of him, throwing you down away from him while he scrambled back and looked at his hand.

Your body bounced as you hit the mat, rolling a few times until you slammed against the edge of the ring. Namjoon was back on you before you could react, and you felt him behind you, trying to roll you over so he could pin you down on your back again. You brought your head back hard and connected with his nose, making him jump back again.

When you looked back at him, Namjoon was standing across the ring, holding his nose and glaring at you as you jumped to your feet too.

You circled each other for a moment, both closely watching the other’s every move like prey.

His nose was bleeding heavily, both of you out of breath and covered in sweat. You were pretty sure you had a bruised rib from him throwing you, your lungs burning from exertion from the fight. Everyone who’d been in the gym was now watching, none of them speaking as the two of you circled each other.

You ran at each other at the same time, Namjoon throwing a swing that you easily ducked. While his momentum was off, you punched him hard in the stomach, making him bend over in pain.

He was being sloppy, maybe distracted from his pain and anger, or maybe he was just more of a big clumsy oaf who relied on strength alone than you’d thought. You knew he was smart based on his test scores, but none of that appeared to translate to agility or finesse. He was fighting clumsy and angry, but you only felt more focused now, catching yourself smiling as you almost enjoyed yourself.

When you tried to strike him again, moving to hit your elbow between his shoulders while he was bent over, he turned and reached up, grabbing your neck with both hands. You broke his hold easily, and used that moment to bring your hand up and smack his injured nose.

Namjoon groaned in pain, holding his nose again. You grabbed his free hand, twisting it until he turned around and fell to his knees, yelling in pain, his arm bent painfully behind his back. You now stood behind him, Namjoon unable to move unless he wanted you to break or dislocate his arm, you on your feet with him on his knees.

“Do you forfeit?” you said, pulling his arm up another inch and making him hiss in pain. You could see how much he was sweating and panting, and ignored the way it sent a shiver of lust through you.

“You play dirty,” he seethed. Just standing close to him, you could feel the way heat radiated off of him. You’d noticed before that he was a sweaty guy, but now he was shining with it.

“I seem to remember being told that there were no rules for this fight,” you said, smiling proudly to yourself as you held the large man in place with one hand.

Instead of responding, Namjoon threw himself backwards into you, knocking you off your feet. You were on your back now and he was on his back on top of you, pinning you there. He had to have at least pulled his arm out of socket doing that move, and his body tensed from the pain, but he didn’t stop.

Namjoon pushed down with his shoulders as hard as he could, arching his back and standing up on his feet, bending his legs to put even more weight on just his shoulders to trap you there under him. You were crushed by him, barely able to breathe, let alone keep yourself fully off the mat.

He was so big and heavy, his shoulders wide enough to pin your arms down. You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment, what you hoped would give you an advantage again. You leaned in and bit down where his shoulder met his neck, the same side his arm was dislocated, and you bit down hard.

Namjoon yelped in surprise and pain, and you wrapped your arms around him in a chokehold so that when he tried to roll away, you went with him. He twisted in your arms until he was on top of you, facing you again, and this time you brought your knee up hard between his legs, his eyes closing as he groaned in agony.

You easily pushed him off and got on top of him, straddling his chest and pinning him down. Your knees pressed your full weight down on his biceps, including his injured arm, which made him groan in pain with every harsh exhale. He arched his back and tried to push you off of him, but he could barely move or reach you, his arms both pinned outward.

“Tired of getting your ass kicked yet?” you goaded, raising an eyebrow when Namjoon glared up at you. “How were you ever the top of our class? This is a little too easy.”

“Fuck you,” he growled, seething hard, blood all over his mouth and chin from his broken nose. His back still wasn’t technically on the ground though, so you needed to think of a way to make him stay down.

You were straddling his chest, so you moved your hips forward suddenly before throwing your whole body back, slamming yourself down hard and completely knocking the wind out of him. You simultaneously knocked him down so that his back was against the mat, and purposefully hit the back of your head against his crotch, which had to still be hurting from when you’d just kneed him a minute ago, so that he wouldn’t have the strength to get himself back up for a few seconds. You heard what you thought was a crack, which you really hoped wasn’t his crotch, before you heard and felt him groaning in pain.

The instructor counted out, and you won. You immediately jumped off of him and looked down at the damage.

Blood covered Namjoon’s chin, mouth, and neck, all from his nose wound, which you’d smacked more than once. He was bleeding from the bite on his neck, and his shoulder did not look right, pulled painfully out of socket and potentially broken. He rolled onto his side away from you and moaned, the hand of his arm that wasn’t dislocated over his crotch as he curled up in a ball on the ground.

“You all right?” you asked cautiously, stepping out of the way as the instructor rushed in to help him. Namjoon held up his middle finger to you, closing his eyes as he tried to breathe steadily.

You snorted in amusement and went off to the locker room to shower.

That night, Namjoon limped into dinner.

You were sitting by yourself at a table near the back, reading a book written by a pilot from before the attacks. Namjoon sat down across from you, as if sitting together was something the two of you normally did.

His nose was badly bruised and taped up, definitely broken. Judging by the limp he’d come in with, you’d messed up something below deck. His arm seemed to have been popped back in socket, but you could see the bruising spreading over his collarbone under his t-shirt, and his arm was in a sling. He had bite marks on his neck and hand, and the one on his neck had needed stitches.

You tried not to smile to yourself.

“Y/L/N?” he asked, like he wasn’t sure of your name, like you two weren’t rivals constantly competing and you hadn’t kicked his ass a few hours ago.

“Kim,” you said, returning the formality.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, so you went back to eating, trying not to look over at him. He rested his non-injured hand on his stomach, and you wondered if you’d broken one of his ribs or if he was just hungry.

“You planning on eating?” you asked him after a moment.

Namjoon actually smiled, laughing to himself weakly.

“I don’t think I even have the energy to walk across the room to get food,” he murmured, his voice a little deeper than usual.

Without a word, you stood, walking straight across the room to get another plate of food. When you returned and placed it in front of him, he looked up at you with wide eyes, confused and shocked by your gesture.

“Do you need me to cut it up for you, too?” you teased, though glancing at his arm, you wondered if he’d actually need that.

Namjoon shook his head after a moment, glancing down at his plate.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. You saw a small, genuine smile on his lips, and you realized then for the very first time that he had dimples.

III.

The following week came, as did Namjoon’s punishment week for losing the sparring match. The first morning, you noticed him waking up earlier than everyone else to go start his laps, since he had to do double. You quickly got dressed and followed.

You ran up beside him as he slowly jogged around the track.

“What are you doing?” He looked over at you, furrowing his brow but not stopping.

“Running laps,” you answered flatly.

You ran the same number of laps as he did that morning, despite having won the right not to run this week. Namjoon, you learned, had a broken rib and pulled groin in addition to all the other stuff you’d done to him, and he’d been given an out and didn’t have to run any laps after all. Your instructor had told him that he needed to focus on healing and not accidentally hurt himself more. He didn’t have to do combat training or anything else physical until he was healed, but he still ran his punishment laps anyway, completely by choice, and so you ran them too, matching his pace the entire time, neither of you saying a word to the other.

Despite getting his ass kicked in the sparring match, the rest of the cadets viewed Namjoon as almost a superhero after that. They respected how well he’d taken a beating; he was the guy who kept fighting, even with half a dozen injuries and multiple broken bones. You were the only one who’d been able to best him, using just your speed to outwit him, and now the rest of the class respected you both even more. Namjoon was a nearly unstoppable tank, and you were the lithe fox that beat him.

As boot camp continued, you and Namjoon continued your quiet friendship, neither of you the overly gushy or warm type, both focused only on training. You studied together, and started helping each other instead of competing. Both of you only improved your scores and times.

Namjoon helped you with your physical training, helping you get stronger. You helped him with his marksmanship, precision, and speed. You regularly sparred and fought and pushed each other further. You studied together, fought together, ate together, did everything together.

The first year of Corps ended, and you entered the second year. This was more specialized, focused on specifically becoming a pilot with more time on flight training instead of physical and military training, which you still definitely had a lot of.

Your class was smaller now, but you still slept in a co-ed barrack. You and Namjoon picked spots next to each other this year.

One night during winter break, almost everyone else had gone home for the week, the two of you essentially having the base to yourselves. It was well past midnight and after lights out, but you and Namjoon laid in your beds talking quietly, both on your sides facing each other. You only had about a foot of space between your beds, and you could just barely make out his face in the dark.

Namjoon told you that he remembered the attacks, losing his family, everything. He’d had a sister too, and had lived in a suburb, not one of the cities. He didn’t explain further, but said that he remembered what happened to his family, and that he’d been found in the woods by himself weeks later. He’d only been seven years old at the time, and you wondered how the hell he’d made it on his own for so long.

You got the feeling he was used to being on his own, and didn’t let himself get attached to anything or anyone. Part of you wanted to reach out and touch him, put your hand on his shoulder and tell him he didn’t have to be alone anymore. But instead you sighed, ignoring the way his sad eyes made your heart ache.

IV.

Your second year turned into your third, and you and Namjoon only became closer. You both planned to go on to a fourth year of training, even though it wasn’t required, as it would give you higher credentials and clearance when you finished. Both of you still strived to be perfect, after all.

Halfway through your third year together, you realized Namjoon was the closest thing you had to family. You both saw each other pretty much every moment of every day. You both didn’t leave the base for holidays, so the longest you’d been apart since first meeting was a few hours, at most.

You were constantly together, even when you didn’t need to be. You woke up early and ran laps, even though you were no longer required to — only first year cadets ran laps, but you both continued because… you didn’t know why, and you didn’t question it. You loved running with him.

That first year together, Namjoon had been stoic and quiet. He didn’t talk much, unless directly questioned, and even then he kept his answers as concise as possible. You weren’t exactly talkative, but when the two of you talked to each other alone, especially in the past few years, Namjoon began coming out of his shell. When he wasn’t guarded and quiet, he was warm and funny, almost loving in his own kind of way. You got the feeling he was naturally full of love, but had pushed that part of himself down in the years he’d spent alone and in shelters.

Now, you were giving Namjoon a haircut. His hair grew weirdly fast, and there were rules about keeping everything, including hair, perfectly in uniform. Men had to have very short hair and be clean-shaven, which meant Namjoon had to get a haircut basically every other week.

When it was warm you did this outside, but now it was winter and you were in the locker room. While you worked, you talked about upcoming tests and other little things. You kept catching Namjoon looking up at you as you stood in front of him, between his spread legs, and he seemed to be getting bolder, watching your face outright instead of just stealing glances.

“Close your eyes and tilt your head back,” you mumbled, trying to hide the fact you were blushing and flustered. Namjoon listened without a word, and you let yourself look at him for just a second; your faces were close, even with him sitting and you standing, because of how tall he was. You’d been obsessed with his lips lately, finding yourself fantasizing about them at the most inopportune times, thinking about how soft and full they looked and wondering what they’d feel like against your own.

Before you could pull yourself from your thoughts and start on the front of his hair, the power suddenly cut out.

You let out a small gasp, but this wasn’t exactly surprising around here. The power went out often because of the testing they were doing with switching over completely to alien tech for larger power structures. Still, you’d gasped in surprise because you’d been so focused on Namjoon’s face, and now the two of you were alone together in a dark locker room.

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.

Of course you were okay; the lights had just gone off.

“Yeah,” you answered anyway. You moved your hands from over his head to his shoulders, feeling him in the dark.

“It’ll be back on in a second, we’re okay,” he said, his thumbs moving slightly, like he was trying to comfort you.

“I know,” you said, your voice sounding small. You weren’t afraid at all, but you didn’t want him to stop what he was doing.

The lights came back on then, and you looked down at him. Namjoon smiled up at you, dimples on full display, and it nearly took your breath away. He had a little piece of cut hair on his cheek, which you gently brushed away, and he wrinkled his nose at you, making your heart ache.

You finished giving him his haircut, and afterwards he pulled off his shirt and went over to one of the showers, to wash off the pieces of hair you’d cut. You gathered up the electric razor and your other belongings while you heard him undressing behind you, turning on the shower and humming happily to himself.

You stopped yourself from looking at him as you walked out of the room and went back to the barracks, refusing to let yourself think about him showering or the way he’d looked at you.

VI.

Your last year of training was mostly just the two of you working together and with various superior officers. You’d get promotions and rank changes after some time in the field, but you’d start out as Senior Airmen, and would probably both make Staff Sergeant within a few years of graduating. There were no wars or active duty anymore, but it meant you’d both be given leadership positions, if ever the need arose.

After graduation, you and Namjoon would both receive your assignments and placements. You’d both requested to be placed together, without requesting anything else. You could be sent anywhere in the world, given any position; you didn’t care where you ended up though, as long as you were with him.

Since it was your last year, you were both given proper rooms instead of barracks. The rooms were small and minimal, but your room was right across from Namjoon’s. You spent a lot of time in each other’s rooms, even sometimes sleeping over.

Now, you laid on Namjoon’s bed in his room, while he sat at the chair by his desk with his feet propped up on the end of his bed. He was playing with a stress ball, passing it back and forth between his hands. You’d finished all your testing and training, so you were both basically just resting until graduation, anticipating your placements. It was late at night, the rest of the base quiet and sleeping.

“Dream placement,” you said, turning your head and pointing at him. “Go.”

“Oh, man…” Namjoon rolled his head back, looking at the ceiling. “Southern California.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “What’s in Southern California, besides desert?”

“That’s the closest base to where the first ship went down. They’ve got the best tech out there, the best planes.”

“Okay, true,” you sighed. “But there’s nothing out there for miles. There’d be nothing to do.”

“What else is there, besides flying?” Namjoon threw the little ball he was playing with gently so it bounced off the wall beside you and landed on your stomach.

“I like flying and being able to see something besides sand, rock, and craters for hundreds of miles,” you said, tossing the ball back to him.

“You feel like you’re going faster if you don’t have anything to look at,” he said, catching the ball with one hand and tossing it behind him onto his desk.

“You also get lost easier,” you laughed, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Not if you’re a good navigator,” Namjoon laughed too, standing up and moving onto the bed with you. He wasn’t exactly tickling you, but he was touching your body and you were both giggling as he laid down beside you.

“If you want to feel like you’re going fast, then just go fast,” you said, your hands on his shoulders now as you grinned up at him. He was partially on top of you, partially beside you as he smiled down at you, his mouth so close to yours.

“I want to go even faster,” he said, but he stilled suddenly, looking down at you with wide eyes. He seemed to have suddenly realized the position the two of you were in, and he moved so that he was just beside you, laying on his side as you laid on your back.

You sighed. It was always like this — not that you were complaining, because you loved the relationship you already had with him. But lately, you’d get so close, almost kissing, almost embracing, almost something, and then he’d back off. You still loved the moments before, where you could forget that you were just friends and pretend you were something more, as much as it ended up hurting your heart in the long run.

Even now, you loved this. Namjoon propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at you as you continued talking, a different topic now. Your mouths were only a few inches apart. It would be so easy for him to just lean down and kiss you, like you wanted him to so badly.

Namjoon’s hand that wasn’t supporting his head rested on your stomach. You put your hands there too, playing with him, feeling his long fingers and how big his hand was, and Namjoon let you, pretending not to notice.

You talked about graduation plans, life plans, little nothings that made each other sadly smile. Neither of you said it, but you both worried you wouldn’t be placed together.

“What’s your dream placement?” he asked you gently, his voice soft.

“You know, I don’t even care,” you said. Because it didn’t matter where they put you as long as you were with him, but you didn’t say that.

That night the two of you fell asleep like that, in that position. It wasn’t the first time.

VII.

When you woke up, you could feel Namjoon’s gentle breathing on your neck. You turned your head and looked at him, studying his expression in the early morning calm.

He was still on his side facing you, so now you were face-to-face, your foreheads and noses only a few inches apart. His hand still rested on your stomach, and you still held his hand there with both of your hands. You felt his fingers twitch a little in his sleep and wondered what he was dreaming about. His other arm was under the pillow now, and through it you could almost feel the swell of his bicep and warmth of his skin.

You only ever let yourself really look at him like this when he was sleeping, when the two of you had sleepovers in each other’s rooms. You studied the shape of his nose, the way his big, plush lips parted, the puffiness of his cheeks as he relaxed and breathed, every freckle and mole on his face that you wanted to kiss so badly. Cuddled up with him like this, you could feel how warm he was; Namjoon was a furnace of a man, and you’d gotten so used to sharing a bed with him the past few months, you now had to layer up and sleep with an extra blanket whenever you slept alone.

Namjoon sighed then, shifting a little in his sleep. You quickly closed your eyes and turned your head back so you weren’t facing him directly, in case he opened his eyes.

You felt him moving, shifting so that his arm was hugging you instead of his hand just resting on you. His hand was now on your side, below your armpit, his thumb on the side of your breast. He sighed and seemed to fall back asleep, softly snoring again after a few moments.

You laid like that for a while, enjoying this feeling, knowing you’d never have this for real. You'd never wake up next to Namjoon in the context you wanted, but this was more than enough for you. You were so in love with him, but he didn’t see you the same way, so you’d enjoy waking up in his arms for as long as you could.

When Namjoon eventually woke up on his own, he seemed to slowly realize the position you were in, moving his hand down carefully to more platonic territory. You opened your eyes and turned your head to look at him, and were caught off guard by the way he was staring at you so openly, looking down at your mouth for a few moments before looking back at your eyes with an expression you couldn’t name.

“Y/N,” he murmured, so softly you could barely hear him, but you could feel the rumble of it in his chest. You didn’t say anything, both of you just looking at each other in the peaceful quiet stillness of early morning, the only noises both of your gentle breathing.

Namjoon moved his hand up to your shoulder, and then his hand was cupping your cheek, brushing your hair back from your face. The tips of your noses were almost touching, his warm breath on your lips. He closed his eyes and put his forehead against yours, your heart almost stopping in your chest from how close he was. He’s never done anything like this before, and you definitely were not going to stop him.

He turned his head slightly, your foreheads still connected as the tip of his nose skimmed along your cheek, by your nose. He brushed his lips against yours so lightly you could barely feel him, his eyes still closed. You could feel his eyelashes tickling your cheek, and prayed he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was racing or how you nearly whimpered at his every touch.

Namjoon moved and brushed his barely parted lips against the corner of your mouth, your chin, your jaw. His hand on your cheek, he stroked your skin with his thumb slowly, touching you, feeling you. His leg moved up slowly, hooking over yours, and you spread your legs for him. You couldn’t even think straight right now, the only things your brain were processing were the touches and sensations Namjoon was giving you.

What the hell was he doing? The thought of him seeing you romantically, the same way you saw him, had seemed so impossible before now, but now, as he brushed his lips against your skin, you wondered if he’d been longing the same way you had.

Namjoon turned your head carefully, slightly away from him, so that you were looking directly up again. He kissed your cheek closer to him while he stroked the other, pressing gentle open-mouthed kisses down your face and neck as he slowly moved himself on top of you. You, matching his slow movements, wrapped your legs loosely around him and held onto his shoulders.

Namjoon kissed your skin as lightly as he could, feeling you anywhere you’d let him, and you were lost in him. He switched to your other side, kissing your collarbone and neck and jaw, and one of his hands moved up behind your head, tangling in your hair. Every movement was slow and deliberate and gentle.

You never would’ve guessed Namjoon was the gentle type, but now that this was happening, it made sense and you craved it. He closed his lips lightly against your earlobe and you gasped loudly, trying to arch up against him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your ear. “So soft, so perfect, my angel, my love.” His voice was so warm and deep, and you quietly whimpered, holding onto his shoulders even tighter. You felt like he could make you come just from this, just from his light touches and hearing his deep voice praise you. You'd wanted him so badly for years now, you’d dreamed about him, fantasized nonstop, and now here he was, and the tension was already building up for you.

He hadn’t even fully kissed your mouth yet. Namjoon pressed his lips against your cheek, caressing the other side of your face with his hand, just holding your body so close to his. You swore you could die right now and be fine with that.

An alarm suddenly blared, and both of your bodies stilled and tensed.

Namjoon jumped off of you and sat back on his legs, looking around the room like he was expecting to see what was happening written on the walls. You sat up too, looking around. Your legs were still spread, your brain still hazy from Namjoon’s kisses, and you looked at him as you saw him working through what was happening.

“Something’s wrong,” Namjoon said, quickly jumping up. He sat back down on the side of his bed long enough to put on his shoes. “Come on,” he said, pulling you up when he stood again.

You snapped yourself out of your lust-haze. The alarm was still going off, which meant something major was happening right now. It wasn’t just a test.

You left, quickly scampering across the hall to your own room so you could get dressed.

You and Namjoon met up in between your rooms a moment later, both in uniform, and ran down together to where the rest of the base had gathered, Namjoon taking your hand in his as you ran.

VIII.

It was another attack, like when you were young.

You all stood there at attention receiving orders, none of you looking anywhere except forward blankly. This was it, everything you had trained for, the exact reason you’d trained so hard. They were back.

You and Namjoon were both assigned as squadron leaders to two different units, Namjoon to Red One and you to Blue One. Those were two of the best, most elite units of fighter jets, but you looked over at him when you got your assignments. You weren’t together, so you wouldn’t know if he was okay until after it was all over.

You were all dismissed and had fifteen minutes to get to your planes and prepare for launch. You went straight to your plane, not stopping to talk to Namjoon. You knew you wouldn’t be able to leave him once you looked at him, so it was better to just pretend this morning hadn’t happened.

You were just starting to climb the ladder up to your plane when you heard his voice.

“Not saying goodbye?”

You froze in your tracks, but didn’t turn or look at him. You couldn’t make yourself say anything, instead just staring straight in front of you with your hands on the rungs of the ladder.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice much softer now as he walked over to you. The planes were close together so you were in tight quarters, and he stood right behind you, his hands not quite touching your sides.

“What?” you said, not looking back at him.

“Please don’t leave without saying goodbye,” he said. You'd never heard his voice like this. Quiet, pleading, loving. It was like this morning in bed, but more desperate, yearning, begging you to look at him.

You started to move up the ladder without turning around, and he put his hands on your hips, stopping you. He immediately let go, not wanting to trap you there.

You sighed and turned around to face him, only partially, still a step up on the ladder so you were just slightly taller than him. You reached back and held onto the ladder with one hand as you looked at him.

When you saw the expression on his face, it took your breath away. He looked almost tearful, sick with worry, trying to be stronger than how he obviously felt.

“Goodbye,” you said softly, bringing your free hand up to his cheek.

He stood there for a moment, just looking at you. You stroked his cheek with your thumb and tried to smile weakly. His hair was getting a little long, you noticed then for some reason. He was supposed to keep it short to stay in uniform, but now it looked long enough for you to run your fingers through.

Namjoon’s eyes were wide and innocent, searching your face. Around you, the base was chaotic and busy as other pilots ran to their planes and officers barked out orders and engines started up. The two of you just stood there in your quiet moment, both a lot less excited about your first mission than you’d thought you’d be, everything happening so much sooner then you’d both thought and on such a larger scale than you ever could have anticipated. You remembered almost wanting this when you were young, promising yourself that you’d be ready if they ever came back. Maybe the universe was punishing you; whenever you loved someone, the universe immediately sought to take it from you. Your family when you were young, and now Namjoon.

He looked like he wanted to kiss you or tell you something. He parted his lips and glanced at your mouth, his brow furrowing as he breathed, and he looked back up at your eyes, his expression so worried.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said, smiling gently.

You turned and climbed up into your plane without another word.

There had been twenty pilots in your squadron when you left, and four when you returned.

You didn’t really remember the aliens from when you were little, but you’d seen countless videos. You knew what they looked like, how they performed, what their technology was supposed to be like, what their weaknesses had been.

You saw so many planes go down. The alien ship had a different defense than last time, and the fight was only over when the alien ship suddenly left and moved on, seemingly just because it wanted to, not because the humans posed any kind of threat to it. When it left, it had taken out an entire city, just like last time. The town near the base had only recently gotten its infrastructure set up.

You and your three surviving pilots returned first out of all the other squadrons. You quickly climbed out of your plane and ran down to the hangar, asking about the other pilots still out there. You needed to know if Namjoon was okay.

Before you even got to the hangar, another alarm started blaring. A plane near you exploded, and you spun around, looking up at the sky.

There had to be over a hundred alien ships in the sky, all firing on the base and the planes.

“Get inside, now!” you yelled, pointing at the pilots from your squadron who’d ducked down near their planes. You knew the base had a bunker, and the number of people at the base now could easily survive down there long-term.

There was panic as people got down there as fast as they could, all climbing over each other and yelling. You stayed back where you could see the sky, ducking down in a safe spot and watching as long as you could. You only saw alien ships, none of your own.

You imagined Namjoon’s last seconds. If he hadn’t made it back to the base, there was no way he’d survive. The ships would find him. You could only see the planes you’d seen exploding earlier, hear the voices of the pilots in your squadron on your coms as their ships exploded. A cut-off shout, and then nothing.

You finally made yourself run down to the bunker. In the distance, you could hear the ships destroying every visible part of the base, every last truck and car and plane and tank exploding as the blasts hit them. The walls shook and lights flickered and dust fell from the ceiling as you made your way down the stairwell to the bunker.

Over the destruction above you, you could hear Namjoon’s voice that morning in his bed, the world frozen around you then, the only things that mattered his large, gentle hands, his slow, exploring mouth, and his soft voice.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’d breathed against your neck. You'd been able to feel his smile, the tip of his nose tracing your jaw, the warmth of his breath on your skin. You'd never felt safer than when you were laying in bed with him.

You pushed the door of the bunker shut behind you, your hands shaking and eyes welling up. You could not think about this; you had to push all of that aside for now. You had a job to do.

After about five minutes down in the bunker, the lights went out. The weak backup generator kicked on near-immediately, but now there was no connection to the outside world. If any pilots managed to survive this long, the base wouldn’t know about it or have any way of contacting them.

When you’d taken off, both you and Namjoon had been promoted to captains, to lead your squadrons. Once all of the remaining people at the base were down in the bunker and accounted for, you were promoted again, this time to major.

Almost everyone out of the thousand or so people on the base had gone out to fight. The only people who’d stayed behind were ground control officers, technicians, first years, civilians who worked on the base, and the top few people in charge. There were maybe a few hundred people down in the massive bunker now, and you ranked sixth in command out of all of them.

Namjoon would’ve been so jealous you outranked him, you thought with a small smile.

VI.

Four days passed with no news.

There was no service. There was no internet, radio, or any connection to the outside world.

You were itching to get out. There was no news from the outside world, but there also hadn’t been any explosions since the first day. The alien ships had to be gone by now. On the second day, you’d tried to suggest to the general that you could go up to the surface and see if an evacuation could be planned, but the general and other officers had all said that there was no need to evacuate, because there were plenty of supplies down here. They would continue to work on regaining communications with other bases, and nothing else immediately mattered until then.

Now, you were on your cot, staring at the ceiling above you. It was the middle of the night and just about everyone else was asleep. Most people slept on cots in what looked like an old gym, all lined up in long rows. Everyone had been given two changes of clothes, all gray jumpsuits. You felt like you were in prison.

The scratchy wool blanket was pulled up to your neck. You tried to imagine sharing the cot with Namjoon, the two of you squeezed onto the spot only meant for one and giggling when you just barely fit. You imagined him spooning you, kissing your neck and shoulder and holding you close to him. You imagined feeling his heartbeat in his chest. You imagined his face when his plane exploded.

It wasn’t fair. You’d literally just become something more than friends, maybe, kind of. Your relationship with Namjoon meant everything to you, and it had suddenly been changing in such amazing ways, and then he’d immediately been taken from you.

You refused to cry about this. You refused to even accept he was gone. There were ways he could’ve survived. There had to be. He could’ve flown low and ejected and hidden in the rubble of the city. Except he wasn’t a coward; you knew him, and you knew he was the type to win or die fighting. He could’ve led other survivors away from the city. Except there was no way these planes could’ve outrun the alien ships. They weren’t fast enough.

There had to be a way. You had to get up to the surface and find out. You had to find him.

VII.

After one week down in the bunker, you felt like you were going out of your mind.

You had a plan. You were going to go to the surface whether they let you or not. You were going to find Namjoon, or at least the remains of his plane. You were going to find him or find closure.

You needed climbing gear to get up the destroyed stairwell. You’d need to find rope and gear, a lot of water, and survival supplies. You began your plan, looking around for spare supplies nobody would notice was missing until you were gone. You knew where to find rope, but you had to figure out how to acquire and carry enough water. Plus you would need to bring medical supplies, in case Namjoon was injured. God, you could just imagine him, laying somewhere, bleeding out and barely conscious. You wondered if he’d thought of you, imagined you coming to save him.

You were seconds away from stealing rope from a supply closet when a short little man walked around the corner.

“Major?”

You froze in place. You weren’t in the room yet; you were innocent.

“Yes?” you said, smiling politely.

“The general wants to see you,” he said, and left without adding anything else.

Shit. How had they known? You hadn’t done anything yet, or told anyone or written anything down.

You made your way to the command center. Not much was going on there in the way of commanding anything, but it was where the higher ups — which now included you — met, and it was where they were attempting to reestablish communications with the outside world.

The room was busy with officers buzzing around. There were a lot of exposed wires hanging out of the walls. It looked like they were rebuilding a computer system circa 1970.

“Major,” the general said, motioning you over.

“Yes, sir?”

“You’re the highest ranking field officer, so this goes to you first,” he said, handing you a manila folder. “We’ve established communication with a base a hundred and fifty miles from here, but only briefly. They said they have seven survivors from our base. They didn’t say who.” The general quickly added the last part when he saw your face light up at the mention of survivors.

You glanced down at the folder. Before you could speak, the general continued.

“We need someone — a pilot — to go up to the surface and see if any planes are still intact, and if so, fly to Walker Base. If there aren’t any planes left, we’ll probably have you try to find a car, or hike if you have to. We need to get our relay codes to that base, and once we do, we’ll have full communication with them again. You up for it?”

You looked up at the general, smiling.

VIII.

It took you about an hour to climb the staircase. Most of it was rubble and a lot of it involved throwing up a rope and securing it on something to climb the huge gaps where the stairs had fallen out, but you eventually got to the top, pushing aside debris to get yourself outside.

The base was gone. There was no way any planes survived this. Still, you walked out onto the strip, just in case.

Some of the piles of charred metal were still smoking. A few small fires were still going, most of them out in the lot, where jet fuel must still be feeding them. You tried to see if you could spot where your and Namjoon’s rooms used to be, but it was all just rubble, ash, and charred cinderblocks.

You walked down the landing strip, looking at the piles of scorched plane parts, blasted to nothing. Pieces of metal jutted up, a plane wing here, a part of engine there. Every pile you saw, you imagined seeing Namjoon’s body among them. You knew if he was dead, he wouldn’t be here, he’d be out in the city — but seeing all of the destroyed planes wasn’t helping.

You stopped in your tracks.

At the end of the landing strip, under a broken wing of a much larger plane, was the most beautiful F-15 Eagle you had ever seen.

You ran to it, climbing on it when you reached it and pushing aside the wing of the bigger plane until it clamored to the ground. You climbed into the cockpit, dropping your backpack with supplies and the relay codes into the little compartment, feeling nearly dizzy in euphoria. You prepped the jet for takeoff, everything going smoothly, and you imagined Namjoon’s face when you showed up at the base. He’d be so happy to see you, but so surprised, and when you told him that you got promoted to major–

You stopped for a moment, your smile falling as you stared blankly at your hands on the switches and dials.

You didn’t know if he was one of the survivors at the other base. You shouldn’t get your hopes up just to show up and find out he wasn’t one of the pilots who made it. For all you knew, you’d get there and one of the pilots from Namjoon’s squadron would tell you all about how he died.

You focused on the task in front of you. You were on a mission, first and foremost, to get the relay codes to the base. That was the important thing right now, not yourself or Namjoon.

You got the plane prepped and ready to go. The center of the runway was clear, since most of the planes had been gone.

F-15s were always your favorite.

IX.

You didn’t attract any alien attention while flying, thankfully. You got there in just over twenty minutes; around the fifteen minute mark, you slowed down and the base contacted you on your descent into their airspace. You had to identify yourself and state your intentions, but the base seemed completely willing to let anyone human land.

When you landed, a few people ran out and took care of your plane for you, as you were escorted inside. You handed over the relay codes and quickly asked if you could see the survivors from your base.

“Most of them were pretty shell-shocked when they got here, but they’re soldiers. They know how it is,” the officer escorting you said as the two of you walked. “How many survivors at your base?”

“Three hundred and forty-two,” you said flatly, staring straight in front of you as you walked. “We had four pilots including myself return, the rest were non-flight officers and civilians. No casualties on the ground, but the base was destroyed in an aerial attack shortly after we landed.”

“Yeah, we heard about that. That’s why we got your other pilots,” the guy said, motioning in front of him in the direction you were walking, assumedly at the surviving pilots. “They didn’t have anywhere to land and thought the base was gone, so they came here. All from different squadrons, but led by one captain.”

You perked up when you heard that. A captain had survived.

You really did try not to get your hopes up. Your base was huge; there were so many squadrons, only one captain surviving was not good news for Namjoon. Still, you were hopeful.

You were led to a barrack where a few pilots were sitting around together, all men looking bored out of their minds. You recognized Park from your training class, and a few others as well. You scanned their faces quickly, looking from person to person, desperately searching for him, frantic and anxious and despairing when you looked and didn’t see him–

“Y/N?” a voice said from behind you, and you spun around.

Namjoon had walked in behind you from the other direction; he looked like he’d just taken a shower, from the wet hair, clean clothes, and bag over his shoulder, which he dropped as he stared at you in disbelief.

Neither of you even said anything. You were only about ten feet apart already, but you immediately met in the middle, desperately grabbing at each other, hugging tightly. Your legs were up around his waist and he held you to him as he kissed all over your face. The room was spinning or maybe Namjoon was just spinning you around, you didn’t care, you just held onto him and tried to kiss him, one hand in his hair and the other arm around his shoulder, trying to pull him closer.

As much as you wanted and tried to kiss him, Namjoon was just too much; it was like he was trying to kiss every last millimeter of your face at least twice. He was holding you so tight you almost couldn’t breathe, but you didn’t even care. His skin, his hair, his mouth, his kisses were all the most amazing things you’d ever felt. You were pressed chest-to-chest, arms wrapped around each other, and you could almost feel his heartbeat pumping along with your own.

Namjoon stopped kissing you long enough to nuzzle against you, closing his eyes as he rubbed his cheek against yours, nearly animalistic.

“I missed you so much, my love,” he breathed. You swore his face was wet with tears, his cheek still pressed against your own. “I haven’t thought about anything other than you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you this whole time, I love you so much… god, fuck, when I thought I’d lost you…” He started kissing your cheek again desperately, his hand coming up to hold your other cheek and hold you in place.

“I missed you too,” you gasped, your voice small and high-pitched as you tried and failed to hold in your tears.

“I love you so much, sweetheart. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he kept repeating, not even stopping speaking as he kissed you, so some of his words were muffled.

“I love you, too, Joon,” you managed to say before he kissed your mouth, tilting his head to kiss you so deeply it took your breath away.

“Okay, Jesus Christ,” somebody else in the room said then. “Do you guys want us to, like, leave or something?”

Namjoon stopped, catching his breath as you turned your head to look back at the six other pilots and the officer all awkwardly watching you.

“Uh, sorry,” you muttered, putting your feet back on the ground and turning around. Namjoon kept touching you, not taking his hands off you, even as you faced the others.

“I know you both outrank us, but get a room,” a different pilot laughed, his smile boxy and voice deep.

“You have a room, actually,” the officer that led you in said, perking up like that was his cue.

“We do?” Namjoon asked, confused. He stood behind you, hands on your hips, tall enough to see over your head.

“She does,” the officer gestured to you. “She’s a major. All superior officers class O4 and up get their own private room.”

“Major?” Namjoon said, tilting a little to look at your face. You smiled to yourself smugly.

“I can take you there now,” the officer said, motioning to the door behind him.

Namjoon stepped to the side and looked down at the ground shyly, glancing up at you and pouting. You wanted to roll your eyes; he actually thought you weren’t going to invite him to come with you.

“You too,” you said, holding out your hand for him.

Namjoon beamed, and quickly picked up his bag and jogged over to what must be his bed, grabbing the few belongings he had, and shuffled back over to your side, taking your hand and kissing you on the cheek before following along with you.

“Go get it, captain,” one of the pilots jeered at him, the others all snickering and wolf-whistling as Namjoon dropped your hand long enough to flip all the other pilots off while the officer led the two of you out and down the hallway.

As soon as the door was shut behind you in your room, the officer gone and the two of you alone, Namjoon dropped his belongings and picked you up again, your legs tight around him, the two of you kissing again. You felt your back against the cold metal of the old-fashioned blast door, one of Namjoon’s hands holding your face.

“How’d you get here?” he murmured against your neck after a moment, kissing your cheek between gasps. “They said the base was destroyed, no contact.”

“The attack happened right after I landed. Everyone got down in the bunker, no casualties on the ground,” you gasped, still a little short on breath. As you spoke, Namjoon kissed your neck, working his way up to your jaw. “They needed a pilot to bring relay codes here.”

“What’s this about you being a major now?” he said, smirking, his lips not leaving your cheek.

“Got an upgrade while you were gone,” you said, and then you gasped, laughing as Namjoon suddenly sucked your skin over your pulse on your neck, leaving behind a deep purple hickey.

“Well, Miss Major, that means you outrank me now,” he said, leaning back enough to smile at you, his expression a mix of mischievous and proud.

He stepped backward then, still supporting you with his arms, and walked back until he got to the bed, sitting down on it. He laid back, pulling you down on top of him gently, your mouths connected the whole way down.

He was the best thing you’d ever felt, his large, firm body contrasting his gentle touches and kisses. You couldn’t get close enough to him, but it was slow, lazy, loving, everything you’d ever wanted with him, his soft tongue in your mouth, his firm arms around you, his warm body under you.

You couldn’t get over how good he smelled. There was the soap he’d just used, but you’d known him and been close to him long enough to know his scent. He tasted so good too; he swirled his tongue with yours slowly, tracing lazy patterns on your tongue, kissing you so deeply your head spun. His hands rested on your back, his fingers spreading wider as he tried to touch more of you.

You parted for air as he rolled you both, holding your body to his with one hand as he pulled you up the bed, resting your head on the pillow as he gently laid you down. Even though you would’ve only fallen a few inches and the bed was soft, he set you down like you were made of glass, looking down at you with love and hearts in his eyes, not breaking eye contact as he gave you a small, warm smile.

His dark hair was mussed up a little from you running your fingers through it, and it looked fantastic on him. His face was flushed and his parted lips were red and a little swollen, and he looked like he’d been crying, or was about to cry, or both.

You pulled him down to you and kissed him again. He set his body against yours, lining himself up with you as you wrapped your legs around him. You were both still fully clothed, but you could feel him, pressed perfectly against you from your collars to his growing erection and your throbbing core.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, grinding slowly against you. “I’ve loved you for so long, I wanted to die when I thought something happened to you and I never told you. I promise I’m going to tell you now, every single day, every time I see you, every time we make love, every second of every day–” He cut himself off by kissing your neck desperately, moving down toward your breast.

“I love you, my angel. You’re the most beautiful thing in the world, I love you so much,” he said, kissing along your skin frantically by the collar of your ugly flight jumpsuit. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, I love you, I love you,” he said, kissing up the center of your chest toward your clavicle. His messy hair tickled your chin, and you rested one of your hands on the back of his head as he worked, gently stroking his hair.

“I love you too,” you managed to say, though words weren’t really coming to you right now, with all Namjoon was doing to you.

Namjoon got up then, and you watched for a moment as he started quickly stripping off his clothes. You sat up too, pulling off your jumpsuit, and Namjoon got all but his boxers off before your arms were even out. He helped you, running his hands along your skin as you peeled off the jumpsuit, leaving you in just the undershirt and shorts you’d had on underneath.

There was a moment where the two of you just sat there looking at each other. You’d both seen each other in this context — nearly naked — before, from sleeping in the same room to swimming to other random things you’d done together over the years, but this was the first time it was ever like this.

Namjoon raised his hands slowly, his fingers just barely skimming against your hips. His eyes were on your breasts, his mouth nearly watering, and you smiled at that. He looked up at you, his eyes innocent and showing every emotion he had within him; he was asking for permission.

You brought your hand up to his face and kissed him slowly, savoring every movement of his lips, the feel of his tongue, the taste of him. His hands went to your thighs and helped you wrap your legs around him, and then you were laying down again, Namjoon on top of you.

He kissed down your chest, this time simultaneously running one of his hands up your stomach under your thin undershirt. He cupped your breast with that hand, feeling you fully, while his mouth kissed back up to your neck. He got your undershirt off without either of you having to get up, though he did have to lean back a little to give you room to wiggle around, and then he unhooked your bra and threw that and your undershirt somewhere behind him.

Namjoon swirled his tongue around one of your nipples, gently squeezing your other breast with his hand, your peaked nipple hard against his palm. He rolled one nipple between his thumb and forefinger slowly while sucking the other, just barely using teeth and making you gasp, and then he switched sides, doing the same thing again.

“That feels so good, Joonie,” you sighed, closing your eyes and smiling to yourself. You stroked his hair while he worked, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. Every moment or so, you’d let out a moan for him, tightening your fingers in his hair whenever he did something that made you see stars, and he’d hum back to you, responding without taking his mouth off you.

Namjoon moved down your abdomen, kissing every rib, every freckle, every last inch of your skin. He dipped his tongue into your belly button and you gasped and giggled, feeling his grin against your skin as he kissed down your navel, his tongue tracing along the edge of the little shorts you still had on.

You reached down and tried to pull off your shorts, but Namjoon’s hands replaced your own, slowly pulling just your shorts off and leaving your panties. He tossed your shorts the same direction he’d tossed your bra, and then looked down at you, sitting back on his legs. Your legs were spread wide, your soaked panties the only thing covering you, your eyes desperate for him, your breasts rising and falling as your breath quickened in anticipation and need for him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his expression almost dazed in love and adoration. He looked like he didn’t know where to look, his eyes scanning your face, your breasts, your spread thighs, the spot on your panties where you were already wet and soaking for him. You bit your lip and whimpered, and he closed his eyes, sighing and smiling to himself, like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

Namjoon bent over and kissed your ankle, slowly, chastely. He moved to the other side and repeated that, kissing your anklebone. He moved up your calf, staying on that side, kissing you over and over and moving so slowly you started to whine for him, begging him to go faster and reaching down for him. He reached up and took one of your hands, holding it and lacing your fingers together as he continued what he was doing, not at all speeding up.

He kissed your knee, the side of it, the front of it, and tilting your leg gently to kiss the back of it. He moved up, kissing your inner thigh while still holding your hand. You spread your legs further for him, whimpering and squeezing his hand as he got closer and closer to your center.

Namjoon pulled back then, a smug smile on his face as he started moving down to kiss his way up your other leg, starting again at your ankle. You let out a whiney moan, pulling his hand and looking down at him, pleading.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry,” he said gently, moving back to where you wanted him most.

He kissed you right over your panties, a deep, open-mouthed kiss that made you cry out. You could feel him breathing hard through his nose, smelling and inhaling you as he moved his mouth against you, letting go of your hand so he could hold your thighs with both his large, perfect hands.

He licked and sucked the fabric of your panties, tasting where you were soaked for him. It was the most amazing thing you’d ever felt, and you spread your legs even further for him, your hands holding onto the sheets of the bed, your knuckles turning white.

You gasped when you felt teeth, and then Namjoon was slowly pulling your panties down your legs with his mouth, looking up at you with playful eyes and a smirk. You wanted to roll your eyes at him, but instead just closed your legs enough for him to get your panties off of you, letting him have his fun. He let out a small growl at you, your panties still in his mouth, and you giggled, a soft noise that made his eyes light up.

Before you could think or do anything, Namjoon was back between your legs, spreading you open with his fingers and licking a slow, thick line up your folds to your clit.

You cried out, your head falling back and eyes squeezing closed. Namjoon repeated the motion, even slower this time, moaning a little too as he let the tip of his tongue enter you for just a moment. You whined, pulling his hair hard and trying to spread your legs even further, and Namjoon stopped, humming softly as he turned his head and kissed your thigh.

“I love you so fucking much,” Namjoon murmured against your skin, kissing you there again. “Your pussy’s so pretty, my love. So soft and wet for me.”

“Joonie,” you sighed, stroking his hair. You could feel his smile against your thigh, and it made you smile, too. You felt warm, like you were glowing from his love.

Namjoon turned his head back and dipped his tongue into you again, this time further, like he was trying to see how far he could go. His lips sucked at your entrance as his tongue flicked in and out, not fast enough to get you off, but not slow, either. He moved his tongue like he was trying to drink you, lapping you up, bringing your wetness into his mouth and down his throat.

You moaned loudly for him, pulling his face harder against you by his hair, and he reached up and grabbed one of your hands, lacing his fingers with yours over one of your thighs.

He moved his mouth up to your clit, drawing random shapes over it with the tip of his tongue lazily while he curled two fingers into you. He moved clumsily, like he wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing but just wanted to make you feel good, and what he was doing was definitely working. What he lacked in experience he more than made up for in eagerness and love, and when he moaned around your clit, and you nearly screamed.

“Jesus Christ, Joon, fuck. God, your mouth is… mmm, god, you’re so fucking good, that feels so good, Joonie, Joonie–” You cut yourself off with a long, agonized cry as Namjoon sucked your clit into his mouth hard, swirling his tongue around it as he suctioned his mouth and moved his fingers inside you faster. You repeated a chorus of nothing but his name between breathy moans as you held onto his hair with your free hand, your other hand squeezing his.

You gasped when you came, your whole body tensing as you saw stars and every nerve in your body exploded in pleasure. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream as you failed to breathe, your lungs tightening and your orgasm only building and building as Namjoon kept moving his tongue and fingers. You felt like you were floating in space, millions of stars around you all bursting at once, the entire universe stopping for you and Namjoon and the love you felt for each other.

After a moment, you took in a shaky breath, trying to recover while your mind was still mush. Namjoon was still moving his mouth on you, now licking up your wetness at your entrance and moaning to himself at the taste. If he kept that up, you were going to come again, and soon.

You moaned, pulling on his hair enough for him to look up at you, not stopping what his mouth was doing. You pleaded with your eyes, whimpering and pulling his hair again, and he put his lips to your entrance one last time, this time spreading his lips as wide as possible and sucking as he slowly closed his mouth. You gasped and almost screamed at the sensation of him actually drinking you, desperate to taste you.

Your second orgasm was smaller, making you shudder and gasp for just a moment before steadily breathing deeply as you tried to recover again. You looked down at him, barely able to lift your head; Namjoon was kissing your thigh, your hips, pressing gentle kisses to your skin as he slowly worked his way up your stomach. You could see how hard he was, his precum glistening on the head of his cock as it bounced against his stomach with his movements.

You started to reach down to grasp him, but he gently stopped you, bringing your hand back up by your head and lacing his fingers with yours. He kissed your collarbone, leaving a trail of wet kiss spots all over your body, your own wetness in the shape of his lips and chin.

“Please, Joonie,” you hummed, and he came back to you, kissing your lips slowly and letting you taste yourself on him. You wrapped your legs around him tightly as he lined himself up with your entrance, moaning when you felt the head of his cock against your folds, gasping when he started slowly sliding into you, every amazing inch of him filling and stretching you.

Namjoon buried his face in your neck, the length of his nose pressed against the curve of your jaw. He turned his head enough to kiss your neck, feeling your rapid, heavy pulse with his lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your neck, not opening his eyes. “So fucking tight and wet for me, my angel, my princess, my heart, my love. I love you so fucking much.” He kissed your neck again gently before pushing all the way into you and bottoming out, the stretch so wonderfully tight and full. You cried out, spreading your legs further and higher for him, grabbing at his shoulders, scraping your fingernails down his back as he filled you up so completely.

Namjoon pulled out slowly and then pushed in again, rocking into you. You were desperate, nearly delirious and just about ready to cry if he didn’t start moving faster. He seemed to just barely be holding on by a thread, his own orgasm already one sudden movement away from overwhelming him.

“God, Jesus Christ, Joon, fuck,” you cried, close to actually in tears now. You started to say something else but it turned into a small whimper as he thrust into you again, hard.

“I love you,” he groaned against your neck, “I love you so much, Y/N…” Your name turned into a long moan as he began his slow, torturous pace, both of you so close to the edge already. You didn’t know how he was possibly going so slow still, other than the fact he must want to torture you.

“Go faster, please,” you cried out, holding onto his shoulders as tight as you could and digging in your fingernails. “I need you so bad, Joonie. God, fuck me, please…”

“I love you, angel,” he said, kissing your shoulder. He picked up the pace a little, but it wasn’t enough. “I love you, baby, I love you so much. I love you, I love you–”

“Go fucking faster, now, please…” you sobbed, pulling his hair, making him hiss in pain, but he listened, reaching down and holding your hip with one hand as he started pounding into you, the force of it making the bed creak and your breasts bounce with each quick, powerful thrust. You were long past gone, moaning loudly with each exhale, and Namjoon groaned and grunted, his head against your shoulder as the two of you moved together, you rolling your hips up to meet him thrust for thrust.

Namjoon broke first. His orgasm hit him suddenly and he tried to keep moving, his thrusts sloppy, erratic, and uneven as he spilled into you, his mouth hanging open and eyes squeezed shut. He let out a long groan until he ran out of air, and then he didn’t inhale again until he finished, suddenly and harshly gasping in again, his whole body shaking in your arms.

He reached down and rubbed your clit furiously, and you only lasted a few seconds before you gasped too, clenching around his still half-hard erection inside you, which only made him groan in overstimulation as you squeezed and spasmed around him, gasping nothing but his name and feeling nothing but him, your love, your Namjoon.

Namjoon somehow managed to keep himself from collapsing on top of you. He moved to the side enough to fall beside you, one of his legs still between your thighs as he laid on his stomach, slightly turned in toward you. His hand moved up to cup and stroke your cheek as he lazily kissed your shoulder.

“I love you too, Joonie,” you said between shaky breaths, your vision almost blurry from lust and exhaustion and a dumb happy smile on your face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You laid there for a little while together before you eventually went another round, this time as slow as Namjoon had wanted to go the first time.

When you came this time, your orgasm had to have lasted at least five full minutes (or at least, it felt like that) as Namjoon kept moving in and out of you, keeping up his steady, slow, overwhelming movements that left you delirious with his cock inside you, his thumb on your clit, and his lips on yours, breathing in every moan of his name.

After you both laid there a while again, lazy in post coital haze, you eventually got up and went to your room’s personal little bathroom, where you turned on the tiny shower and let it warm up. You stood there feeling the water’s temperature with your hand while Namjoon stood behind you, arms wrapped around you and lips on your neck. It was like he couldn’t go more than a few minutes without saying “I love you,” not that you were complaining.

You showered together, Namjoon standing behind you the whole time and washing your body for you. He massaged your breasts, hands sudsy as the warm water fell down over them as he kissed your neck, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear. One of his hands fell down to your folds, stroking you slowly as his other hand moved to your breast, arm wrapping around you so that his forearm could also press against your nipple, stimulating and touching both of your breasts at once.

Namjoon slid two fingers into you as he kissed your temple. You could feel him hard against your ass, and that feeling made your eyes flutter.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you, pleasing you, making love to you,” he murmured into your hair. You responded with an agonized moan, reaching back and holding onto his shoulder for support. “I’ve wanted you like this since we first met. I dreamed about eating your perfect little pussy so many times, doing exactly this to you, feeling you squeeze my cock like you did earlier when you came so prettily. You’re better than anything I ever could’ve imagined though, baby. Your pussy tastes like heaven and feels even better. You’re so fucking perfect, princess, I love you so much, more than my heart can bare.”

You felt like he had to be bending you over slightly, his firm chest against your back. You swore you could actually feel his cock throbbing.

“I need you,” you moaned, your eyes closed as you felt nothing but his hands.

“I’m here,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I’m here, angel. I love you.”

“Need you inside me,” you said, spreading your legs to stand with your feet braced wider apart. “I love you, too, Joonie. Please…”

Namjoon didn’t need to be told twice. Hooking his arm around your waist for support, he bent you both over a little more, sliding into you from behind in one smooth motion. You cried out in ecstasy, he felt so good and big and yours.

It was fast and sloppy; he hugged you against him with both arms while you braced yourself on the tile wall in front of you. The sound of skin smacking against wet skin, his hips hitting your ass coupled with both your quiet moans and the wet squelching of him moving hard and fast inside you, echoing off the tile walls with the sound of the running water. He filled you so perfectly, stretched you out so far, you felt like he was fucking up into your guts, so hard and deep and good.

You came at the same time, Namjoon groaning and squeezing you harder as your eyes rolled back in your head.

When you’d both recovered some, you stood there under the water, still in the same position. You both knew base rules about wasting water, so you needed to wrap this up, but neither of you wanted to move.

You eventually got out and dried off, both of you getting ready for bed with the toiletries provided by the base. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you the whole time though, so the whole process probably took three times longer than it should’ve.

When you both finished, he pulled you to him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he kissed you, his hands spreading out on your bare back. Namjoon’s tongue slowly swirled with yours as he let out a small, contented hum, and he wrapped your legs up around his body, supporting you with one hand on your back and the other on your thigh.

Namjoon walked to your bed, carrying you, and laid down with you on top of him. You didn’t end up going another round, but you kissed for a while until eventually you started to move off of him to sleep beside him. Namjoon, though, held you there on top of him, keeping you there.

He murmured a soft little “please,” stroking your back gently, begging you to stay where you were on top of him. You laid back down and kissed right over his heart, before turning your head and resting your cheek on his chest, nuzzling in against him to sleep as he pulled the sheets up around you both.

You were safe in his arms. The world around you didn’t matter; not the people down the hall, not anything outside the base, none of it. The whole universe was just you and Namjoon in this bed, and nothing else existed. He was yours, and you were his.

#ksmutclub #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #namjoon smut #bts smut #rm smut #kim namjoon #namjoon #my writing #namjoon fic #*

994 notes · View notes

thespianbooks · 4 years ago

Text

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 23//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

Sorry this chapter is late today, it’s just been a crazy hectic week, but I’ve been determined to still post on Monday’s dammit! Even at 8PM 😅 Enjoy!

XXX

A week into our newfound peace, Rhys and I were glad to be rid of Keir and the ongoing threat he posed, but now faced the aftermath of the Illyrians and the rebellion they had raised on their side of the coup. While Keir and his Darkbringer generals had been easily taken care of by Mor, we were now faced with the task of dispensing the repercussions to the Illyrian camp lords that sided with Kallon.

"I want all the camp lords dead," Rhys said—darkly and very matter-of-factly to our inner circle; all of us having gathered in the small cabin at Windhaven.

Following the battle, it only took a couple of days to round up the rogue Illyrians into the prison camps that had been established. Cassian had also separated the camp lords from their legions and imprisoned them separately. He, Azriel, Rhys and I decided early on that their sentences would differ from their soldiers as a warning that another attempt like this wouldn't be taken lightly—if our powerful friends throughout the other courts weren't foreboding enough. As the days passed, most of our court allies had returned back to their respective territories; Tamlin being the first, followed by Tarquin with the promise to send any other additional aide we might need; as well as good wishes for my mate and I and our baby. Eris left shortly after without any additional fanfare, but gave us a less-than subtle reminder of his father who continued to rot in their dungeons, though any thoughts of possibly dealing with the elder male left me weary. Rhys assured me that Eris would be more than pleased to manage with his father. Only a few days after that, Helion and Thesan agreed to stay behind with their general commanders and a small intel of higher-ranking soldiers in order to help keep an eye on our newly stationed prisons. They decided to leave the rest of this issue in our hands by wisely sitting out of the meetings Rhys and I had with our family.

Cassian visibly stiffened at my mate's words, but before he had a chance to protest, I held up a hand and turned to him. "That is almost half of the camp lords in Illyria, some that have been in their position for centuries, Rhys," I shared a quick exchange with Cassian, who looked on with approval.

"You, Cassian, and Azriel came to the conclusion long ago that this had to be dealt with more delicately, right?" I posed.

The tension in Rhys's shoulders remained, but his face shifted from dark to moderate as his eyes trailed over my rounded stomach; more pronounced than ever at this stage, and more so while I sat in the chair at the table we gathered around. With only a little less than two months to go, I was growing increasingly uncomfortable as the days dragged on. With the dust settled, the adrenaline I had gathered in the past weeks began to dissipate—leaving me with the aches and pains I had grown accustomed to, along with my more sluggish movement.

Rhys's gaze lingered on my stomach. "That was a decade ago, when we were speculating. Things played out a lot differently than we originally anticipated."

"But we had a hunch on this outcome, Rhys. Feyre is right, we were right back then. We can't kill our way out of this one," Cassian explained.

From the corner of my eye I noticed Azriel silently watching their exchange, arms crossed, and it didn't take much to assume what his opinion on the matter was.

"Well how else do we send a message to them? Apparently executing the camps who sided with Amarantha didn't send it clear enough, because they pulled this," Mor challenged.

I turned a withered gaze in her direction. She did have a point, but I still couldn't help feeling that simply sentencing high-ranking Illyrians to death wasn't the answer we needed.

"That, and the losses they suffered from the war with Hybern only added to their list of grievances against us. Adding more to their dead would only strengthen that point for them," Cassian argued.

"These people are ruthless," Nesta pointed out, staring Cassian down hard as his head turned at her words. "The only way to match that and make sure our point is received is by being equally merciless."

"The girl has a point, Cassian." Amren drawled from her spot next to me, her petite legs draped casually on the table. "Violence begets violence."

"We don't need any more violence," Elain suddenly said, surprisingly assertive—even as everyone directed their astonished stares at her.

"Feyre is about to have a baby. That baby is going to take over as High Lord one day, and we don't want him inheriting the difficulties you all have been dealing with for centuries," she explained. "The whole reason we sought to end this coup was to herald in a new era of peace. So, we have to establish that now. Somehow."

I smiled gratefully in return and noticed that while Nesta and Cassian stared at my otherwise timid sister, Azriel fought a grin on his composed face. Amren, however, allowed a long feline grin to grow on her lips.

"Wise words, girl," she said casually.

Mor's grin was friendly, but worried. "That would be ideal, but these are the Illyrians we're talking about."

"There must be something we can do," Elain insisted.

"There is," Rhys finally spoke up. "But will be hard pressed to find."

I drummed my fingertips along the apex of my belly, Sebastian mercifully sleeping after a night of constant kicking, and I debated aloud. "What if we took something of value to them? Something that would cost them they're rank and force them into different occupations in the camps? Like say...an ability?"

Azriel was the first to understand what I meant, eyes growing wide with an astonished blink, Rhys and Cassian following and looking equally shocked.

"That practice was banned centuries ago," Rhys said, though he didn't sound too bothered.

"In regard to females," Cassian interjected as he crossed his arms again with a smug smirk.

"It would certainly make them wish they were dead," Azriel added, also unbothered.

"And makes for a rather profound impact," I concluded with a small grin. "Any other sympathizers for their cause will think twice before trying to oppose our rule again."

Mor and Amren seemed to catch onto what we were implying, as did Nesta—who bent down to mutter in our sister's ear to inform her. Elain's eyes went wide but didn't protest.

"Well girl, it appears pregnancy hasn't affected that mischievous mind of yours," Amren mused, grey eyes almost seeming to shimmer as she spoke.

"It looks like we have our solution then," Mor said with a satisfied sigh. "Can we get the hell out of this frozen tundra now and go back to Velaris?"

Rhys nodded, placing a hand on the back of my chair. "We will, just as soon as Feyre darling delivers the sentences to the camp lords."

I blinked and turned my head to face him. "Me?" I asked.

"Well, it was your idea, my love," Rhys replied with a wicked grin.

"And since you weren't at the battle, it'd be good for them to hear and see their High Lady. Give them another reminder of your position and the power you hold as well," Cassian said.

I sighed tiredly, running both hands along the expanse of my belly. I wanted nothing more than to return to Velaris—return home and finally enjoy this newly-granted peace, before a new chaos ensued in the form of a newborn high fae infant.

I promise, the first thing I'll do when we return to Velaris is draw you a warm bath

And bring me as many chocolate covered strawberries as I want? I asked in return.

His responding chuckle was aloud as he placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I'll bring you whatever you're craving and more, my love

I smiled at him in return before facing the others. "All right, I'll address the camp lords and hand out their sentences, but I don't think I can stomach watching it all be carried out."

"Az and I will see to that, and we'll have the other prisoners and camp lords bear witness. That will guarantee that none of them ever try anything like this again," Cassian promised, though for a second I saw a glimmer of that long-held pain reflected in his eyes.

After the week it took to gather the last of our prisoners and the last efforts it took to clean up this mess, I still didn't get that moment alone to speak with Cassian. The night following the battle, Rhys had let down his black adamant shields, allowing me to see the fighting that took place after Keir's death. While the Illyrians and Darkbringers managed to hold their own for a time, they were certainly no match against our numbers with the other High Lord's forces combined. Even through his memories I could feel the ache my mate felt when facing his own people; the people and traditions he had been primarily raised in thanks to his mother. That ache and betrayal was just as present in Cassian, who would let out frustrated shouts of anger as he fought his fellow Illyrian warriors. Through Rhys's memory, I saw flashes of Cassian in battle and the inner turmoil he endured as he took down Illyrian after Illyrian. Both he and Rhys did their best to only knock them unconscious rather than kill them outright, but there were instances when it was their only option.

I stared at Cassian a little longer than I meant to, having realized it when he frowned with concern. "Feyre?" he asked.

I looked down at my lap, half covered by my belly, and squeezed Rhys's hand, still on my shoulder. "I need a moment with Cassian, please," I said to no one in particular.

Rhys pressed a kiss to the crown of my head as confirmation, and I didn't look up as I heard the scrapping of chairs as the others filed out of the cabin one-by-one. I waited until I heard the soft click of the door closing before I lifted my head to face the general—my general and commander.

My eyes stung as I sighed. "Cassian, I...I never got to apologize to you, for all of this," I started softly. "For your own people turning on you, and Rhys, and Az. For you having to fight them at all. I-I can't imagine how hard it must've been for you during that battle."

He crossed over to my side, pulling out a chair and turning it to face mine as he sat across from me. "Feyre, you're not the one who should be apologizing, there is no need," he said before taking my hands in his. "I have dealt with the Illyrians' resentment for centuries and learned a long time ago that I would never be more than some bastard-born nobody to them. I've accepted that."

"Still, to have to take down your own, to face them across the field and know of their intentions…" I said and shook my head with a sigh.

"It might've stung a little, but my loyalties lie elsewhere," he said with a small squeeze of my hands.

I offered him a sad smile in return, but he grinned. "I may command these legions, and consider myself a proud Illyrian male, but that is separate from you, Rhys, and the others. The Illyrians may be the foundation on which I was raised and trained, but Velaris—the rest of you, are my people."

Tears sprang to my eyes before I had the chance to control them and Cassian laughed, standing so he could kneel at my side and wrap an arm around my shoulders. He rubbed my back lightly as I cried.

"I'm beginning to wonder if you'll ever return back to the old Feyre once the little one is born. She was able to control her tears better," he contemplated.

I shoved his shoulder and he laughed again. "You have no idea how hard it is to control my emotions right now," I motioned to my stomach. "He has complete control over me."

"Oh, I don't envy that at all," he said before standing upright and offering me a hand up.

I sniffed as I took his hand, standing with a grunt of effort and resting a hand on the small of my back. "Thank you, Cassian," I said. "For helping make his world safer."

Cassian grinned in return, bowing with a hand over his heart—as he had when he swore his first oath to me. "Anything in service and protection for my High Lady," he said with a wink.

I laughed and after clearing away any lingering tears, he escorted me outside of the cabin; where I would address the imprisoned Illyrian camp lords and perform as High Lady for the last time before giving birth to their future High Lord.

XXX

Rhys's speech had been short and to the point. We agreed he would address the camp lords first before turning the verdict of their punishment to me. The minute the word clipped left my mouth, audible shocked gasps could be heard from the other camp residents and prisoners. Devlon's face was steeled over, despite having agreed with us on this course of action, I imagined the thought of losing one's ability to fly made every male here recoil—though Devlon's face remained as hard as ever.

Half of the camp lords looked disbelieving, thinking we wouldn't actually follow through on such a promise; until Kallon himself foolishly stepped forward and expressed as much, followed by spitting on the ground in front of where Rhys and I stood. Azriel had been quick in his response, a cobalt siphon flickering before a blue light shot out and flattened Kallon on his back—bright blue netting holding him down as he thrashed to get free. Azriel slowly walked over and forced one of the male's wings open, Truth-Teller in hand, before swiftly and brutally making the cut.

I tried not to look away even as my stomach churned at the male's screams. I continued to watch in abject horror until Rhys placed a hand on my back and led me away without another word, Cassian stepping into our place as we left.

The screams followed me all the way back to Velaris, Rhys carrying me in his arms as we flew through the skies as carefully as possible. Even now as I stood on the front balcony of the estate, overlooking the Sidra and city beyond, the anguished screams echoed through my mind for much longer than I wanted. It wasn't remorse that twisted in my gut—no, Kallon and every camp lord that decided to follow him deserved to be clipped as their punishment.

"It's the centuries and centuries you know that practice was performed on females," Rhys suddenly said from behind me, and I realized my shields were down as I twisted to find him leaning against the doorframe leading back into the estate. "And you're worried how they might retaliate."

I frowned, running both hands over the front of my stomach, holding it. "Do you think they will?" I asked softly.

Rhys sauntered over to me, pressing a lingering kiss to my brow. "It's certainly a possibility, but we'll be keeping a much closer eye on those camps, and the females residing there," he reassured me.

I sighed shakily with a nod, placing my hands on his shoulders. "I just...don't want them to use it as an excuse to clip any more females, even the ones that sympathized with their cause," I admitted.

"If they do, they'll pay the consequences. And for any other bullshit they try to pull," he pressed another kiss to my brow, both hands coming to hold my stomach. "But I have a feeling this will bring them down a couple notches, so we may not have anything to worry about for a while."

"I hope you're right about that," I said, closing my eyes with relief as he massaged the sides of my stomach, the muscles beneath my skin sore.

"Am I ever wrong, Feyre darling?" He asked with a wicked grin.

"You don't want me to answer that," I teased.

He gasped in mock hurt. "You wound me, my love," he said as his hands moved to my hips, eliciting a groan from my lips as he massaged the tender spots where the muscles of my stomach met my hips. "Come get some rest, it's been a hectic week."

I nodded and followed him back into our home, placing both of my hands on the small of my back as I began walking ahead of him. "Your son is starting to get heavier and heavier these days," I complained.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the wide grin on his face and raised a brow as he watched me walk. "What is it?" I asked.

"Your gait has changed, Feyre darling, that's all," he said as he caught up to my side, resting a hand in place of mine on my back.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You're starting to waddle," he answered, his grin widening.

I balked and took a few more steps, noticing that I certainly was shifting my weight in a slight swaying motion as I walked. "Well, you can't blame me, I am carrying around a splendid burden in my gut."

"You certainly are, my love," he laughed as he guided me to the living area

I held onto both of his arms as I lowered myself onto the sofa, glad I had chosen such luxuriously soft furnishings for each room of the manor. "It's only going to get bigger...much bigger," I said as I stared at my stomach.

Rhys sat beside me, draping an arm over the back of the seat behind me. "That's a good thing. Madja says we want a healthy, cherub-cheeked babe," he said.

His violet eyes sparkled as he began stroking my stomach gently, his grin transforming into a warm smile. I smiled at him in return. "It's all just...becoming so real now. We've spent so much time worrying about the coup, and even though we had those periods of respite, it always lingered over us," I explained. "Now the only thing we have to look forward to is...becoming parents."

"Are you nervous?" Rhys asked, keeping a hand on my stomach.

I shook my head. "I'm excited to meet him, and hold him...to see you hold him," my eyes stung at just the mention of it and laughed at myself—exasperated at how quickly I continued to be reduced to tears.

Rhys pulled me closer, placing a kiss at my temple before moving to my ear. "I can't wait to see him in your arms, to see you nurse him and rock him to sleep," he purred.

I sniffed and nuzzled into his embrace, resting my face into the nape of his neck, breathing in his salt and citrus scent. "It's going to be wonderful isn't it?" I asked softly.

"That, and more," he replied, his chin resting atop the crown of my head as he inhaled my scent as well, both of us basking in each other as he caressed my belly—gratitude didn't even begin to explain what we were both experiencing in this moment.

Gratitude, and hope, and so much more.

34 notes · View notes

gingit-cake · 4 years ago

Text

Therapeutic Gallavich

I’ve been wanting to write a tribute post to the Gallavich universe as a free source of therapy during the pandemic. I’m somewhat tongue in cheek here, but in a country (USA) where we have too little mental health support and too much stigma about mental health, diving into the Gallavich fandom and binging Shameless over the past 6m has been a really comforting coping mechanism for me. There is so much grief and loss in the world, so many ways our government and - for many people - our peers have failed us, that the fictional world of Ian and Mickey has been a wonderful source of comfort, in a lot of ways. It’s a retreat from the IRL shitshow. It’s got endless permutations of happy endings, to give us that serotonin boost and vicarious thrill. And given Mickey and Ian’s respective struggles - homophobic and sexual abuse, mental illness, neglect, parental death, incarceration, etc. - there are also countless fanfics that include therapy, recovery, and informal paths towards healing from past trauma. I’ve never related to a show so personally as I have Shameless, and binging it during the pandemic - when social isolation leaves way too much time for rumination, compounded by being at midlife and the reflection that triggers - it basically ripped open my heart and dredged up long buried stuff I’m finally willing to address. My husband and I watched the S7 finale on New Year’s Day, and let’s just say 2021 has been an emotional retcon of my life since. (I’m learning all the creative, literary terms.) (And don’t worry, strangers on the internet, I am fortunate to have a therapist and the insurance to pay for it. I wish we all had this.)

There’s been a few fanfics I explicitly want to give a shoutout too as ones featuring therapy or recovery or conversations that have stayed with me in a meaningful way. Excerpts, tributes, and links below the jump. Possible spoilers for Enemy Lines, Someone to Hold Me Up, Buy and By, and Etherized Against the Sky.

Enemy Lines, by J_Q and stars_fall_on - Ian has a therapist Dr. Lancaster, who introduces him to the concept of rumination:

“He felt a tightening in his chest. Did he even want to let go of Mickey? If not, what the hell was he still holding onto? A memory. A feeling. A belief that he’d made a real connection. But nothing substantial. Nothing real. // 'Ian, is there something hindering you from wanting to move on?" she asked then sat back, looking closely at him. “Are you familiar with the term rumination? // ... // Rumination, as opposed to worry, very often focuses on loss and an overpowering need to understand why something happened.' She continued to watch him closely as she spoke. 'While emotional processing starts out this way, healthy processing leads to acceptance and a release of negative emotions, but rumination keeps you stuck in a pattern.’”

THIS is my brain in a nutshell. As I wrote in a comment on one of the chapters to this amazing slow burn, enemies-to-lovers fic, I’ve got relationships from 20y+ ago that I still brood over. I’m working on letting go and the Gallavich universe has been a creative inspiration for doing some of that work.

Someone to Hold Me Up, by @westernredcedar - Mickey has a conversation with an OC about forgiveness, after reconnecting with Ian in this hurt/comfort fic:

“'You ever have to forgive your guy for something?' Mickey asks. // Mel laughs. 'Of course. Daily, actually. The man’s a damn slob.' // Mickey snorts, but then he runs his hand over his mouth and tries to actually get to the point. ‘What about something big?' // Mel looks like he’s considering the question thoughtfully, and Mickey realizes that somewhere in the midst of all this madness, he’s really gotten to like this guy. 'I have lots of thoughts about forgiveness, actually,” Mel says with an eyebrow raised. “So you may not want to get me started on that theme. But it’s more about my parents and my sister than about Jeffrey, if that matters. I guess for me it all boils down to this: would it cost me more to forgive or cost me more to stay angry? And my answer to that question is not the same for everyone.’”

This conversation about forgiveness has really stayed with me. One of the reasons I’ve realted so much to the character of Ian Gallagher is I had a hothead brunet of a boyfriend in high school during that same age range (15-17) who is probably the same height as Noel Fisher and caused no shortage of DRAMA in my life, and it didn’t end well. (We were definitely NOT soulmates.) I am serious when I say Shameless and Gallavich specifically helped me let a lot of this 30y old angst go. This exchange b/w Mickey and Mel gets at it - it was costing ME a lot to hang on to this past.

By and By, by @nowherenj - This one I’m not going to excerpt, because it was the whole story that moved me. Nowherennj draws on their experience in recovery, and this slow burn is both beautifully written and a primer on being in recovery. This was really helpful for me, as I have close friends and family who are in recovery, some with a dual diagnosis (drug use + mental health diagnosis), and this story’s generous attention to detail helped illustrate their experiences for me in a way that we don’t talk about on a regular basis. One of the reasons I identify so strongly with Shameless is because I come from a big sprawling Irish-American family with a lot of addiction and mental illness in it. This fic about Ian and Mickey in recovery makes explicit much of what I think my family hovers around because it can be so hard to talk about openly. I wept reading this one when the author brought in The Avett Brothers’ No Hard Feelings - how I want to live my life.

Etherized against the Sky, by Snarfle - This one is less about my own therapeutic journey and more about what I hope I can be for young adults that I work with now. It has a character in it named Mr. Strickland, who is a very important father figure for Mickey. I was a professor for a decade, and still mentor young adults in my current job. I think one of the unsung roles that I experienced in academia is too be a mentor for young people. Some instructors are just about curriculum and grading, but when you cross paths with young adults at the beginning of this stage of life, figuring their sh*t out, the ability to be a kind and safe source of input and an active, non-judgemental listener is honestly the most fulfilling aspect of working with students and young professionals, in my view. Maybe it’s because the years 15-25 were such chaos for me, but I love working with people this age (and probably why I hang around on Tumblr despite my near eligibility for AARP lol). You’ve got your whole life in front of you! So many possibilities! Full of hot boyfriends and tomato plants and rescue dogs and heated pools. :)

There are surely more, I’ve realized that “hurt/comfort” is a great tag for these kinds of stories. But this post is already too long. Thanks to all of you in the fandom who have created art and narrative that have kept me coming back for more, and not feeling so alone in the pandemic. We are a mighty little community!

13 notes · View notes

waywardfangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Both @captain-aralias and @palimpsessed did really nice posts to share their fics from this year as well as their thoughts on what they wrote, and I enjoyed reading their posts (and their fics!) so much that I thought I would take them up on their open invitation to do one too! I’m a big believer in keeping lists of your accomplishments to look at on days when self-doubt creeps in, so I encourage anyone else who might be interested to do this too! (All the questions are copied from @captain-aralias)

List of Completed Fics this year:

I wrote ten fics this year, as well as starting a ton of WIPs, which is amazing to me, considering I have only written fic once before in my life!

Slow - General, 3k

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore - Teen, 28k

Promises - General, 3k

A Privilege to Love You - Teen, 7k

Early Riser - General, >1k

Write This Down - General, 3k

As You Wish - Teen, 13k

The View from the Veranda - General, 4k

Down By The Sea - General, 2k

Just Want You to Know Who I Am - General, 1k (written in 2020, posted in 2021)

Total: 10 fics, 67k words, 100% Snowbaz

Pretty good for what is truly the first year that I have been an active participant in fandom!

Questions answered below the cut.

Best/worst title?

A Privilege to Love You is my favorite title, because I think the line is just so sweet, and it makes my heart melt.

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore is definitely my worst title, because that was just the placeholder name I gave the WIP, but then I got so used to it I forgot to change it to something better before posting. I still cringe a bit at that one.

Best/worst summary?

l am horrifically indecisive, so I have a few summaries that I like. Just Want You To Know Who I Am is short and sweet, and I think it conveys exactly what I want it to:

Baz is fine. He's fine. Everything is fine. (It just isn't.)

~A fic about being loved in all the little ways~

But I also really liked the quotes I pulled for The View from the Veranda, As You Wish, and A Privilege to Love You.

Early Riser also has a summary that I let break my heart:

Baz wakes up early now, even though Simon doesn’t.

I does very little to convey what the fic is about, but after reading the fic it hurts like I wanted it to, sooo.....

I think that Promises has the worst summary though:

Inspired by the song "Promises" from the musical Hadestown.

Simon and Baz have spent the last three years working on themselves and on their relationship. Now it's time for their next step together.

Best/worst first line?

Baz says it best to open The View from the Veranda:

I am not a man accustomed to enduring want.

However, Simon deserves an honorable mention for starting us off right in As You Wish:

Baz is such a prick.

As for worst opening lines, I don’t really think I have any. I have some that stand better as an opening paragraph than an opening line, but I place a lot of importance on the first line of a story, so I like to make sure all mine are strong.

Best/worst last line?

I am not going to spoil any last lines for anyone (I cover up the last page of books when I read to reveal it slowly, word by word, so I take last lines seriously!), but I will say that As You Wish has an adorably predictable last line that I love.

For worst last line, I have to say Slow. I liked the line itself when I wrote it, but then I learned later that people were interpreting it in a more steamy way than what I had intended, and because I feel like Slow is such an innocent fic and really highlights how important it is for Simon to not be rushed into every decision he makes, I don’t like that it sounds like he and Baz rushed into something else. (I just meant that they talked and maybe kissed a bit! That’s it!)

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

On December 31st, 2019, I was pet sitting when I came across a prompt for a Princess Diaries 2: Royal Engagement Snowbaz AU. I impulsively started to write, even though I had only written one other fic in my life (Check, Please!), and I had never written Snowbaz before. I kind of thought that maybe I would write one fic and that would be all, and that maybe one fic is all I would ever write, but I am so happy to have been wrong about that! I wrote way more than I could have predicted, and I even did NaNoWriMo! (I failed NaNoWriMo too, and I’m okay with that, because I want writing to be something I do for fun, not something that stresses me out.)

As a fun side note, Carry On is a fandom that I have returned to many times in my life, and it seems to have a special place on New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day for me. I was given Fangirl as a Christmas present, and started reading it on New Year’s Eve, only to finish it and realize that the new year had arrived while I was engrossed in the book. I have spent multiple New Year’s Eves since engrossed in a reread of the book, or reading fic, and so it feels really fitting that I got into properly writing fic for Carry On as the year turned over.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

Literally all of this was unexpected, as I never planned on writing any more fic, but I think I am most surprised to have written multiple songfics. I never read many songfics, and didn’t often care for them, but I wrote Promises off of the song from Hadestown, Write This Down off of George Strait’s song, and then Just Want You to Know Who I Am because Caity got the Goo Goo Dolls stuck in my head.

What’s your favourite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

My favorite might actually be my most popular, so I’ll go with my close second favorites (it’s a tie)

A Privilege to Love You is a soulmate au, and those are my favorite things ever. I also received some of the best feedback on this one, and I feel like I did a lot of things that worked really well in this fic.

The View from the Veranda is just so wonderful for me though, it combines my love of history with absolute silliness for a friend (I love you Liz!!!), @krisrix did some INCREDIBLE art for it, and I just had so much fun writing it.

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

As You Wish was the most popular, hands down, with more hits, kudos, comments, and bookmarks than any other fic I wrote. It’s also the fic of mine that I reread the most, because it makes me so happy and I love all the silly moments.

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

We’re Not in Genovia Anymore is probably the answer here. This isn’t entirely backed up by metrics, since it does have more hits and kudos than some of my other fics, but for how long it is and the work that went into it, I think it only got a portion of the attention I was hoping it would. That’s mostly my fault though! It was the first fic I wrote for this fandom, and so I have definitely grown as a write since! Additionally, while I feel like it has a lot of great moments and fantastic lines, I have some lackluster bits too, and it really suffered from not having a beta (I was too shy to ask anyone back then). It’s also an AU of a movie that isn’t as widely viewed as I previously thought, so that didn’t help either, and as I already said, this fic could have a much better title.

All that aside though, the people who have read and talked to me about this fic have really seemed to like it, so I’m glad that I did right by my fellow Princess Diaries 2 fans! (and all of the wonderful people who read it and commented nice things having never seen the movie, y’all rock!)

Story that could have been better?

Everything I wrote before asking someone to beta. I just talked about what I would improve in We’re Not In Genovia Anymore, but Promises could use some work too. Having a few wonderful friends help me edit my fics has really improved what I post!

Sexiest story?

Oh gosh, I am not someone who writes sexy things.

Having said that, The View from the Veranda was written in the style of a bodice ripper, so I think that makes it the sexiest story by default. Kris’s art also enhances its sex appeal by at least 200% (I laughed out loud when I was making the list at the start of this post, because I had entirely forgotten that fic is rated G - honestly, that tells you everything you need to know about me, my romance novel fic can be read by children haha) (I might give it a T rating at some point, just because I feel like it should have that)

**I just remembered the bonus chapter for As You Wish.... that might be the sexiest thing I’ve written haha 🤣

Saddest story?

Early Riser - I am a big believer in giving everyone who deserves it a happy ending, but this one is just an interlude of sadness and depression without any resolution in sight.

(If you read it though, please know that in my head they do get therapy and things do get better! Snowbaz always has a happy ending in my fics, even if I don’t write it out fully)

Most fun?

As You Wish - this one to me feels like the happy chaos of running and sliding around a big house in stocking feet, and I don’t have a better way to describe it than that. There’s a tiny bit of angst from Baz, and a little bit of panic from Simon, but I was smiling and having so much fun while writing this fic, and I really think it comes across.

Story with single sweetest moment?

A Privilege to Love You - I’ll let you decide which of the many sweet moments is actually the sweetest ❤

Hardest story to write?

Promises, no question about it. I had written two fics by that point, and people had been so nice, and some of you lovely folks had even started tagging me in WIP Wednesday posts and in Six Sentence Sunday posts, but I felt like I had no inspiration left and I kept worrying that I wouldn’t be able to write again. So, I forced myself to write something, and it felt like pulling teeth (and it honestly wasn’t very good), but I gifted it to the person who had been my biggest cheerleader and who had tagged me a million times, and that’s how @foolofabookwyrm and I became friends. Writing the fic sucked, but her friendship is worth it, a million times over 💜💜💜

Easiest/most fun story to write?

The View from the Veranda. I’m a historian, and I work a lot with primary sources and spend time speaking with others in 18th century language, so once I got into my “work mindset” the words just flowed. This was also a silly, happy story for me, because I included a lot of jokes for Liz, and there are a ton of details that are just hilarious if you work at the same place I do (sorry that none of you do, but let me just tell you, the descriptions of Simon are all based off of my most attractive colleague, and at least 15% of this fic is silly quotes from work). I think this was only supposed to be about a thousand words long, and I messaged Kris multiple times while writing just to tell him that it was getting out of control and I couldn’t stop writing 😂

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters?

Writing for Agatha in We’re Not in Genovia Anymore really made realize how much some of her (canon) story resounded with me, and I liked the deeper character study I ended up doing for her. I’m still always going to be the most in love with Baz, but I have a deeper connection to Agatha now too.

Most overdue story?

It’s still overdue. I have so many WIPs, at least seven of which are soulmate AUs, and I just keep starting more. In terms of actual planned release date though? I started writing a The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue AU for NaNoWriMo, with the intention of publishing it in January. It’s already the longest fic I’ve ever written, and I don’t think I’m even a quarter of the way done with it. I wasn’t happy writing for NaNo, because I don’t do well with creativity on a deadline, and I chose to pause work on that fic so I can actually enjoy writing it and end up with something I like once I finally return to it. Apologies to those who are anxiously awaiting the fic, I do hope to finish it this year, and I won’t post until it’s all done, so you’ll get a very rapid update schedule when it does come out!

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I signed up for my first fandom event! I participated in the Secret Snowflake event, and wrote Down By The Sea for the wonderful @fight-surrender (and ended up with ideas for some other new fics too)! Even though I was actively failing NaNoWriMo when I signed up, I did manage to complete my fic on time, and I learned that it wasn’t quite as daunting as I was expecting it to be. (My biggest problem was my laptop breaking and having to do almost everything on my phone - I also learned once again just how amazing Liz is, as she helped me format and post to ao3, since I couldn’t do that properly without a computer)

I struggle with being creative on a deadline, but wanting to write a little over 1k in a month was much more achievable than feeling stressed about writing 50k in a month!

This year’s theme and the story that demonstrates it most:

I like the idea of the inevitability of love. I adore soulmate AUs, because I love the idea of a universe where not only does someone have a perfectly matched other person, but that there is a surefire way to find them. Even though I only published one soulmate AU this year, I feel like every time I write Snowbaz I am writing about a couple where love will, inevitably, win. In my mind they are always going to have a happy ending somewhere down the line where they are just purely in love. Even though love doesn’t magically fix everything, it’s still incredibly powerful, and I only want to create stories where Simon and Baz truly love each other.

Of course, with that as the theme, A Privilege to Love You has to be the fic that best demonstrates the idea of inevitable love - it’s a soulmate AU and a universe where Simon exercises his free will.

What are your fic writing goals for next year this year?

Finish and publish my Gentleman’s Guide AU

Finish and publish more soulmate AUs (I have so many WIPs you guys)

Plan more before writing

Work on improving dynamic scenes and the overall flow of my fics - I sometimes feel like I have too many lulls, and I want to write in a more engaging way

Promote my own work more! I am partially doing this post because there are multiple fics that I never shared on here! I plan to make banners for all of the fics I write this year, and to post them on tumblr at the same time I upload them to ao3.

The last few years have been a time of tremendous personal growth for me, and I really feel like I’m starting to understand who I am as a person, settle into myself, and like who I am. I’m thrilled to discover that fandom is still part of who I am and what I enjoy, and that I have more creative outlets in my life now than I ever expected to. My biggest goal is just to keep building on all of that, to use fic to explore who I am, to reflect what I like, make myself happy with my writing, and to hopefully make at least a few of you happy with my stories too!

#2020 fics #my writing #about me #year in review #fic masterpost #fanfic year in review #my fic #snowbaz #carry on

19 notes · View notes

jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets · 3 years ago

Text

I Loved Him... Once - CH 4

Title: I Loved Him… Once

Author: jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Heid (Aaron Hotchner x Spencer Reid)

Rating: This ones General but eventually as the series goes it will be Explicit

Tags: canon typical violence and gore, eventual smut as the series goes, angst, fluff, pining., its gunna be a slow burn guys.

Summary: A series following the team as they solve crimes and take down the bad guys.

In Part one of this series, we follow the team as they take down a serial killer that has taken a piece of one of their own. And through it all, Spencer and Hotch come to a few conclusions and realizations of their own.

AO3

Masterlist

*** My works are not to be posted on any sites without my permission! But comments and reblogs are love! <3 Please and thanks!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter four

Back at the hotel Spencer was quiet, pulled back, and everyone knew that he would need this time to sort through his emotions on his own. Though no matter how long he needed to himself, they would always be waiting close by when he felt he needed them. But he had known this man, their latest victim, and though he hadn’t been able to say much more than that since they left the scene, they knew there was more to this than just a simple acquaintance.

Aaron watched him as he stood at the desk, waiting for their room cards. He was worried about Spencer, he'd never seen him so quiet. The desk attendant came and handed him the room cards, pulling his attention away from Spencer, and he walked over to the group to hand them out.

“There's only three rooms available,” he said, handing one card to Emily and JJ, “Prentiss and JJ you'll share.”

Derek reached out and took the second card from Aaron before he could say anything more and said, “I'll bunk with the kid,” then he leaned in to whisper, “I wanna keep an eye on him.”

Aaron didn't say anything, just nodded, he couldn't exactly refute it without raising some suspicion in a group of the BAU’s best profilers. Then Rossi came up and took the last card from Aaron and said, “Guess that leaves you and me.”

Everyone then made for the elevators and then to their rooms for some much needed sleep before the inevitable chaos that would come with the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Aaron walked into his room and tossed his go bag on the bed with a sigh. David followed in behind him, placing his bag more gently on the second bed, and passed the man where he stood in the middle of the floor with a hand in his hair.

Dave started getting his clothes and toiletries ready to start winding down for the night, and tossed a sideways glance over at Aaron, “You should go talk to him.” Aaron looked over to him in question. “He could really use you right now, I'm sure of it.”

The thought brought a small flutter to his stomach, “Maybe it would be best to just leave him to process this right now. And he's got Morgan-”

“He doesn't want Morgan, trust me,” he stopped Aaron dead in his tracks, lifting his head from his bag to continue, “he's close with Morgan, yes, and I'm sure when he's ready he'll talk to Morgan too. But the way he looks at you, acts around you, the fact that he wanted to be in the same car as you coming back from the scene. He needs your presence, and he needs you to talk to him.”

He took a deep breath, considered Dave’s words, then nodded and said, “Alright, I'll be back.”

It wasn't soon after that he found himself standing outside of Spencer and Derek's door. He stood there for a few minutes before finally knocking, and Derek answered.

“Hey, Hotch, come in.”

He followed Derek inside, noting that Spencer wasn’t in eye sight and slightly panicked before Derek told him, “He's in the shower,” obviously seeing his distress.

“How is he?”

“Still quiet,” he said, sitting on the bed and crossing his arms, “it's understandable though, losing a friend is never easy.”

Just then Spencer walked out of the bathroom. His shuffled steps and lowered head showed his obvious distress, and Aaron knew then that he was right to take David's advice and talk to Spencer. When he finally lifted his head and saw Aaron standing in the middle of the room, he stopped walking and just stared at him. He didn't know what to say, he didn't even know if he had the energy to say anything if he wanted to, so he just waited for Aaron to talk instead.

"Come with me, Reid," he motioned him to follow him out the door, "I would like to speak with you."

He left the room and Spencer just stood in the doorway to the bathroom. He didn't move, didn't look up at Derek who was watching him from his place on the edge of the bed, but eventually decided he'd kept Aaron waiting long enough and followed after him.

He silently led Spencer to the elevators, and where Spencer expected him to go down to the lobby, or the conference room on the third floor, he went up instead. Taking them all the way to the very top floor, and walking out as soon as the elevator opened.

Spencer continued to follow him, into a side stairwell and up to the roof. He walked out slowly, looking around the rooftop oasis. It was nice actually. There was a pool to the right, all lit up with neon colours. In the center, straight ahead of him was a sitting area filled with fancy covered chairs and tables, most of which looked more like abstract art than proper seating. And to his left, the way that Aaron was currently walking, there was a small garden. The cherry blossoms there were in bloom, their beautiful pink flower petals slowly floating to the ground as Aaron walked through them, and the tall flowers around them provided the perfect cover for a secret meeting, which is what this kind of felt like to Spencer. Though he knew exactly why Aaron had called him up here, what he wanted to talk to him about, so he followed him into the small rooftop garden.

He sat on a bench tucked back into the trees and Spencer joined him, though he sat as far away from him as possible, making sure their legs weren't touching at all. They sat in not quite an uncomfortable silence, but also not exactly comfortable, before Aaron decided he had to break it.

"The victim-"

"Eric," Spencer spoke for the first time since he had told Derek he knew the man, and Aaron found that finally hearing his voice brought a sense of relief. He wasn't completely shutting down as he had worried he was. "His name was Eric Watts. He… he had a name, Hotch, he's not just a faceless victim."

"You're right, I'm sorry," he took a breath and tried again, "Eric, how did you know him? Were you close?"

He nodded, eyes on the ground, "We met in university. He was a third year student and I was on my first doctorate. We've been friends ever since the first day we met."

"Do you mind my asking a personal question?" Normally he wouldn't be so intrusive, especially in the lives of his team. They spend so much time together on the job, he believed they should have at least a small part that they could keep to themselves. But in this case, and also because it was Spencer he was talking to, he felt he should ask, wanted to ask. And though Spencer didn't answer, he also didn't refute it. "Was there more than friendship between you and Eric?"

He took the shuddering breath that Spencer let out at his question as a yes, and he found that it crushed his heart a little at the thought of Spencer being with someone else, but he waited for the real answer. "We… We were always just friends. I think it was obvious that we both wanted there to be more between us, but it just never happened. Then I was recruited by the BAU and he got a job offer out west, so we barely saw each other after that. We mostly just spoke on the phone, visited when we could."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

He let out another shaky breath as he thought, "October twenty-second."

"Six months ago." He stated, but Spencer shook his head.

"October twenty-second of last year."

"So you haven't seen him in over a year?" Spencer shook his head. "And you… you had feelings for him this entire time? Since university?"

"Yeah," he breathed out, "there are times I wished I had said something, and maybe… maybe things would be different right now. Maybe I wouldn't have had to look at his body in a bag today if I had."

"You can't think like that. Whatever was going to happen would have happened no matter what," he took a chance and cautiously, very slowly, moved a hand over to rest on Spencer's knee, "I'm sorry you two never got your chance."

For the first time since they came up to the roof, Spencer's eyes moved from the ground to the hand now resting on his knee. He stared at it in silence for what felt to Aaron like a lifetime, to the point where Aaron thought maybe the touch wasn't as welcomed as he had hoped it would be. He started to lift his hand, take it back and hope that they could just pretend that it had never happened, but to his surprise Spencer actually reached forward when he felt his hand lifting and took it, plastering Aaron's hand back to his knee. Aaron turned his hand over and took Spencer's hand properly, but left their joined hands on his leg, and let Spencer play with his fingers until he was ready to talk again.

After a few minutes of giving himself time to think, Spencer furrowed his brows and decided to keep talking it out. "In a way… I'm glad we never got our chance."

Aaron quirked his head, "Oh?"

He nodded, turning their hands over and covering the back of Aaron's hand with his other, "I did have feelings for him."

"You loved him."

"... Once," he admitted, "but as years went by and we separated and… met different people, I realized that what I thought was a strong and intense love, wasn't that. I mean, yes I loved him, but…"

He trailed off and squeezed Aaron's hand a little tighter, as if thinking of how to say what was still on his mind. So Aaron took a wild guess and promoted, "You met someone else?"

"I did," he smiled slightly for the first time that night, and this time Aaron was the one to squeeze his hand, "I did realize that I had loved Eric all those years ago, but compared to the way I feel now, it wasn't the same. Eric and I would have faded out."

"And now?" Aaron asked, the slightest pang of hope hitting his heart, "The person who changed everything for you?"

"This time it's real, true. I don't think we’d fade out."

"Will you tell them?"

He shrugged, "Maybe one day, if I'm ever brave enough. But right now I just… I need some time."

Aaron shifted closer to him, their legs slightly touching now, "That's understandable. It's better to wait until the right moment, and perhaps now is not that time. I’m sure whoever they are, if they love you as much as you clearly love them, they will wait as long as you need them to."

A well of emotions came over Spencer. Talking about Eric, his past, opening up to Aaron, the man in question who changed everything for him. But Aaron was right, he needed to wait for the right time to tell Aaron that he was in fact that person, and after losing Eric the way he had, Spencer was not ready for that talk. He was not ready to tell Aaron how he feels, how he’s felt for years. So instead he sighed, continuing to play with Aaron's fingers as a few tears rolled down his cheeks, colliding with their entwined hands in his lap. "I miss him."

"You always will, but he'll never be far."

"Yeah," he lifted a hand up to wipe at the tears on his cheeks, then cleared his throat in an attempt to collect himself, "We, uh… we should probably go back inside. It's getting a little cold and I'm sure Morgan and Rossi will be wondering where we went."

"Yes, and we should both get some rest.” He stood along with Spencer and shifted around him to head back towards the stairs they came up. He released his grip on Spencer's hand, starting to pull it away as they walked, but Spencer held tighter and pulled his hand back towards him. Spencer didn't make eye contact, just kept deliberately looking ahead, but Aaron smiled over at him and allowed him to hold his hand all the way back to his room.

He walked Spencer there and waited for him to go inside before leaving for his own room. But Spencer quickly ducked back out of his room before he could and captured Aaron in a crushing hug, which he returned with just as much strength.

Spencer tucked his face into Aaron's neck and breathed in deep, and Aaron ran his hand up and down his back in a soothing manner. "Reid, if you don't think you can handle this case, you can bow out at any time. No one will think any less of you."

He held Aaron impossibly tighter for a second before pulling back and saying, "I'm okay. I want to do this, for Eric, I need to figure this out."

"Alright," Aaron nodded and took a step back as Spencer opened his door again, "I'll meet you by the car tomorrow and we'll go talk to the coroner first thing."

"See you then."

And they both parted ways for the night, the memory of their bodies pressed together a comforting thought in the despair of the day's events.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer was standing out by the car early the next morning. He had barely slept. He spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking of Eric and wanting so badly to just run to the room next door and take comfort from Aaron. Even if it was just holding his hand like he had done through their talk the night before. But he didn't, so instead he let his thoughts and memories plague him all night, and now here he was. Leaning against the car, waiting for Aaron, and almost falling asleep.

"You ready?"

Spencer jumped up and pushed himself off the car, "Yeah. Yeah I'm ready."

Aaron stopped, taking a good look at Spencer before asking, "Are you sure? You look exhausted, did you get much sleep last night?."

"I'll be fine," he waved him off, walking around the car and opening the passenger side door, "let's get going."

Aaron followed him and got into the driver's seat without saying anymore on the matter and started the car. As he was pulling out of the hotel parking lot he chanced a glance over at spencer. He was sitting almost curled in on himself, leaning against the door and staring aimlessly out the window. He looked down at the time, it was still pretty early and the coroner's office wouldn't be open yet. “The coroner won't be ready for us for at least another hour, would you like to stop for breakfast?”

He thought about it for a moment, and as much as he wanted to say he wasn't hungry, he really hadn't eaten since before they left Virginia. “Yeah, sure.”

A few minutes later Aaron pulled into a small diner parking lot and led them inside. He asked the host at the door if she could seat them in a booth by the back, soon enough they had ordered and were eating in a comfortable silence.

“Hey,” Spencer started, picking at his food and Aaron looked up, “thanks for yesterday. Talking about Eric was… it was nice to tell someone.”

“I am always here for you, Reid, as more than just a boss anytime you need me.” Spencer nodded, going back to pushing his food around his plate with his fork. “You know you can still pull yourself from the case at any time, right? If you don't think you can handle being at the coroner's office and examining Eric's body, I can go in and do the examination alone. It won't be a problem.”

“I appreciate that, but no,” he stated, firm and confident, “I'll be fine. I need to work this case all the way through. Even if it means doing things that I really don’t want to do.”

Aaron didn't say anything or try to convince him out of it, instead just offering, “If you need me.”

“I know,” he smiled up at him, and the two finished their food then made their way to the coroner's office.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can't tell you much more than you already know,” the coroner, Dr. Miller, walked them through the morgue and to the table at the end. The body there was still covered with a sheet, face covered, but Spencer already knew it was Eric. “The last three victims had no evidence left behind, no DNA, nothing, same as this new guy-”

“Eric.”

“... I'm sorry, Agent?”

Spencer swallowed and forced out a slow exhale before continuing, “His name is… was Eric Watts.”

“You knew him,” Dr. Miller stated, “I'm very sorry for your loss, Agent Reid.”

Spencer thanked him quietly and then cleared his throat, trying his best to prove to Aaron that he could do as he had said earlier, and keep it together enough to work this case through. “What, uh… what can you tell us about Eric?”

Dr. Miller walked around to the other side of the table and took the sheet in his hands, tossing a look at Aaron before he pulled it back. Aaron nodded but shifted a little closer to Spencer as the doctor pulled it back revealing Eric's face. Spencer closed his eyes and turned away slightly, seeing Eric's pale skin and mangled face brought instant chills to his entire body. But he steeled himself and turned back, waiting for the doctor to tell them what he had found.

“So like I said, your killer left no evidence behind, so I don't have anything that can help you there. But if these four victims are connected as you say to the same killer, the only other thing I can say about them is that this man, Eric, his injuries seem to be a combination of the other three. His ears have been cut off, his eyes crossed out, and mouth sewn shut.”

“His last victim?” Aaron asked Spencer.

“It's possible,” he said, but quietly, “it's almost like he's completed it, all three of the monkeys combined into one. Eric may have very well been his last victim, which means we're going to have a really hard time catching this guy.”

“I do have one more thing I can tell you about the three victims as well as Eric here,” he waited a second before continuing, letting Spencer have a second, “all four of them had significant defensive wounds. So whoever his attacker was, he fought back hard, Agent Reid. he didn’t go down without a fight.”

He took that in, at least he tried his hardest to stay alive, he fought back and that at least made Spencer feel a little better. And with nothing more they could learn from Dr. Miller, he took his chance to ask, “Would-would it be alright if I had a moment alone, to… to say good-bye?”

“Of course,” Aaron gestured for the doctor to come around the table and leave the room with him, “we'll be right out here, take as long as you need.”

The doctor gave his arm a pat on his way by, and Spencer waited for them to close the door before moving closer to Eric. He sighed, looking down at his cleaned up face thanks to Dr. Miller, and felt his throat instantly tighten. Tears welled in his eyes, blurring Eric's face. “Hey,” he whispered, a little choked and really fighting the tears now, “I'm so sorry this happened to you. But, god, what did you get yourself into Eric?”

He wiped a hand down his face to catch the stray tears that hadn’t noticed had fallen before continuing, “I… I really wish we had more time. I know that we never could have ever been more than friends, and that's… I'm okay with that now. But I will always cherish you as one of my closest friends. I wish we could have seen each other one last time. I…” He reached out a hand, slow and shaky, resting it on his cheek and whispered, “I’ll miss you, Eric.”

He ran his thumb along Eric's cold cheek, before deciding that the coroner had already finished his exam and washed the body, so it would be okay. And he leaned in slowly, pressing a light kiss to Eric’s forehead, pulling back slightly to whisper, “Rest peacefully.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

When he walked out of the morgue, Aaron and Dr. Miller were there waiting for him as they had said. When Aaron saw him walk through the door, he pushed off the wall and all but ran over to him. He didn't say anything, but waited for Spencer to speak first when he felt ready.

He looked at Aaron, the concern and worry in his eyes constricting his heart. “I’m okay,” he answered softly, “let's get back to the station, we still have work to do.”

Aaron moved to lead Spencer out of the building, thanking Dr. miller on their way out, his hand hovering close to the small of Spencer's back as they walked but never getting up the nerve to actually touch. And once they were back in the car and on their way to the station, Spencer resumed his previous position of curling in on himself and staring blankly out the window. His worry creeped up again seeing him like that, so he decided one more time to let Spencer know, “I'm still here, Reid, whatever you need I'm here.”

That made Spencer shift a little towards Aaron, perking up for the first time all day, “Whatever I need?”

“Whatever you need,” he repeated.

Spencer nodded, then sat up properly in his seat. Aaron had said he was there for whatever he needed, and right now there was only one thing he really wanted. So he reached his hand across the center console and rested it palm up on Aaron’s knee, silently asking. Aaron took his hand without any hesitation, entwining their fingers together and rubbing his thumb soothingly across the back of his hand. If this is what Spencer needed, he would be there for him for as long as he needed him to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So a lot of Spencer and Aaron in this chapter, so I hope you liked it! And thanks for reading <3

3 notes · View notes

carriagelamp · 4 years ago

Text

Book Review - Summer Summary 2020

I didn’t get around to doing an individual post for the books I read in June/July/August, so I decided to choose a dozen that I read over the summer... I’d separate the wheat from the chaff for you so to speak. Though like you’re about to find out, that doesn’t necessarily mean they were all good by any means...

Crave

My girlfriend got this for me to “tide me over until Midnight Sun”. Between you and me, I think she was taking the piss. Anyway, Crave is very... standard fare paranormal YA school romance with the added flare of being written by an adult erotica writer, meaning the rhythm and tone of this novel is fucking bonkers. If you want to read the novel without reading the novel, just take Twilight and the entire Vampire Academy series, shove them in a blend, and force down the sludge you get from that. Normal Average Girl Goes To Secret School In Alaska For Vampire, Werewolves and Dragons. That’s this book. It is so big and so so so bad. I finished it out of spite, please don’t do that to yourself. Unless you are really craving (hurr hurr) some top tier trashy paranormal romance, in which case... no judgment.

The Last Firehawk

The Last Firehawk is a Scholastic “Branches” series, written for beginning readers (grade 1-3ish, depending on the child’s reading level). It has short stories, big text, and awesome pictures on every page. Guys. I unironically am adoring this series. It’s simple and is introducing children to a number of classic elements in the fantasy quest genre, but it is so charming. Friends Tag and Skyla discover a firehawk egg, and species that is supposed to have disappeared long ago. When Blaze hatches from it, the three are tasked with going out and finding the magical ember stone which was hidden long ago by the firehawks and which could be used to defeat the evil vulture Thorn and his dark magic... I read the first two books to second graders who ate it up and read the next four books because I personally wanted to continue the series. If you have young readers in your life (or just want a fun kid adventure) then please try these they’re the literary equivalent of nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie.

Lupin III: World’s Most Wanted #3

All the kind people that still follow my tumblr and haven’t tried to murder me because of my Lupin obsession are not going to be surprised by this one. I finally read one of the manga for this series and honestly I’m delighted. Somehow even hornier than the show, but hilariously funny. I felt like I was reading a more adult version of Spy Vs Spy. It’s a bunch of short, individual bits/adventures with lots of visual gags and an artstyle that is really different and delightful.

River of Teeth / Taste of Marrow (American Hippo series)

I’ve talked about River of Teeth before, but I finally finished the American Hippo duology and need to sing its praise. This is an alternate history series composed of two novellas that explore the question What would have happened if the States had decided to import hippos as livestock...? Anyways, my pitch for you: queer hippo cowboys. That’s all it took for me to read it. You have a gay gunslinger who loves his hippo to death, a nonbinary explosives-expert / poisoner who is the main love interest, a fat con artist who spoils her hippo and is the only voice of reason in this entire series, and a latina mother-to-be who is the scariest assassin in the entire series and is obviously scheming. The four of them are brought together on a job to deal with the Mississippi’s feral hippo problem.

IT’S A QUEER HIPPO COWBOY HEIST NOVEL GUYS I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M STILL TALKING AND YOU HAVEN’T JUST GONE TO READ THIS YET.

Petals to the Metal (The Adventure Zone series)

The graphic novel adaptation to the McElroy family’s DND podcast The Adventure Zone. Most of you are probably aware of this? It’s a great adaptation, it hits all the important beats, shows off the characters really well, and still gets lots of good gags in even while condensing entire arcs into single book stories. This one is probably my favourite so far just because Petals to the Metal was one of my favourite arcs in the show... but you can also see how the art has improved and the chaos of the race is fun to see drawn out.

If you like The Adventure Zone but haven’t tried the graphic novels yet -- would recommend! If you’ve always wanted to listen to The Adventure Zone but don’t have time for such a long series or struggle to focus on podcasts then pick up the first book of this series (Here There Be Gerblins) and try reading it! It really is an enjoyable adaptation.

Pony to the Rescue (Pony Pals series)

I continued my April/May theme of reading old-school chapter book series to combat Covid Brain Fry, so I picked up a few Pony Pals books. I read these as a kid and always enjoy them -- there’s just something so appealing to a child about having a horse. It gives your child characters a level of independence and ability to explore that you wouldn’t get otherwise. These books definitely read young, but they were nostalgic to revisit.

Small Spaces

A really cool middle grade horror novel I picked up. Maybe it’s because I live around a lot of corn fields, but farm/scarecrow themed horror absolutely does it for me. One evening, after seeing a woman try to destroy a strange, old book, eleven year old Ollie doesn’t stop to think, instead stealing the book and running. That’s how she becomes wrapped up in the strange, sinister story of a cursed family and creature called the Smiling Man that seems to live out in the foggy fields. While unsettling, Ollie tries to remind herself that it’s just a story... but this becomes more challenging when her school bus breaks down one day out their own set of fields, and a fog is rolling in...

“Avoid large spaces. Stick to small.”

Snot Girl #1 - #2

A Canadian graphic novel series by the creator of the Scott Pilgrim series! I love his work so I decided to give Snotgirl a try, even though it’s not generally my genre. I’m glad I did! First book took a while for me to get into, but by the time I hit the second I was really wrapped up in the mystery and character development. Snotgirl is about Lottie, a self-consumed fashion blogger whose biggest struggles are dealing with her allergies, frustration with her fellow-blogger friends, and how entirely her self-esteem is tied to her “beauty” and how people view her. But everything shifts in strange and horrifying ways when Lottie starts taking a new allergy medication, meets a new friend... and then witnesses that girl’s death. Or does she?

Seriously, or does she? I have no idea, I need to read the third book. This book is full of intrigue, complicated relationships, murder (or not?), and a healthy dose of magical realism to keep you guessing. If you like slice-of-life, crime, and abstract reality then this series is world a try. Plus the art is gorgeous.

Summer Wars #1 - #2

I recently rewatched Summer Wars (still one of my favourite movies) and decided to read the two-book manga adaptation. It was a really neat little adaptation. The creator of the movie gave the writer free range to tweak things to fit better in a manga format, which means some movie elements were allowed to fade into the background, whereas other aspects were fulled into the forefront and fleshed out to a greater degree. It was very cool, it kept the same story but gave you new things to think about which I wasn’t expecting. Reading this as a stand alone works just fine, but honestly if you’ve never watched the movie Summer Wars you should give it a try! It’s a great mix of slice-of-life, sprawling family dynamics that I relate to a little too well, cyber adventures, and fantasy. Super feel good.

This One Summer

Okay, last graphic novel, I swear. This One Summer was... weird and intense. It’s a coming-of-age Canadian graphic novel that follows a pair of pre-teens who meet up like they do every year at their family’s summer cottages. You see them both in the awkward phases between childhood and growing up to become teenagers, as they’re confronted with things like maturity, friendship, self-esteem, family problems, and sexuality. A beautiful read, but probably the heaviest out of all the books on my list.

Wild Thornberrys Novelization

I rewatched The Wild Thornberrys movie with my girlfriend earlier this year, and decided I wanted to hunt down the chapter book novelization because I’m kind of a sucker for novelizations. Honestly, this was about what you would expect from the era. 90s/00s novelizations, especially young novelizations, are generally just a transcript of the movie without much thought or effort put into them to make them anything but. That’s what this was. It was fine, and it really let me revisualize the entire movie, but honestly you’re probably better off just rewatching the movie unless you also really deeply love The Wild Thornberrys.

The Willoughbys

I saw that Netflix had done a funky looking adaptation of The Willoughbys and I decided I needed to read the book first before watching the movie. This was a little bizarre, I’m still not sure how I feel about it. Over all, I think it was a net-positive experience. It’s an obvious satire on classic children’s novels, especially the likes of Mary Poppins (real Mary Poppins, not the Disney version) and while a little heavy-handed, it does a Series of Unfortunate Events vibe that redeems it. The story is about a group of horrible children (The Ruthless Willoughbys) who decide they are sick of their parents and would rather become Worth Orphans... and to do that, they’re going to have to dispose of their inconvenient parents, obviously. Conveniently their parents are also sick of having children and decide to do away with them as well. The Willoughbys sets up three (or four?) different subplots that are gradually woven together through a series of schemes and exploits. It’s definitely more ruthless (hurr hurr) than the Netflix version, which tried to make the children more sympathetic, and in some ways I think that’s a definite point in the novel’s favour. I’m not sure I would go out of my way to recommend it, but it was a fun romp if you want something short and off the wall (and a lot more fleshed out than the Netflix version).

51 notes · View notes

keirmoonrock · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, darling! Can I ask for the 'fanfic writer ask' thing? G, I, and S are the ones that interest me the most at the moment.

Hey, nice to see you @covered-with-ink! Always a pleasure! Really interesting questions, too…

(WARNING: VERY LONG)

G: For genre, I t h r i v e on longfics with very intense plots. I’ll add romance sometimes, but it’s never the main topic. Fun fact actually, I hate reading a lot of pure romance in fanfiction and as a genre of literature. (Almost) Everything I’ve written has actually been in some kind of AU… usually because it’s too complicated to research the canon, or in the case of my current fic, I wanted to experiment and explore dynamics between characters that I felt weren’t explored enough. In the case of my two major major works, both involve magic/mythology being real, so I actually do a looot of worldbuilding, too. I created a whole religion and multiple languages in the first one 💀

I: As far as my readers’ image of me goes… I worry sometimes they think I’m nuts??? I mean, with my first fic especially… I did a lot of fourth walk breaks in notes, hinted at future things in comments, and at one point literally wrote out a symbolic response to someone begging for a hint at what would happen next IN. MORSE. CODE. I’ve impersonated a corporation (fun fact: that’s why this blog is called Keir Moonrock Co. Trademarked and Patented) in the notes by saying like… “The Keir Moonrock Coroporation thanks you for your patience”

I honestly so miss that interaction with my readers… it’s hard to do it with something less (not by much lol but less) mysterious and fancy than my first fic, and also Death Note fans just seem to comment wayyyy less than Beatles fans? But hey, 80% of those comments were from repeat commenters who updated with every chapter, sooo

In terms of then and now, I get a lot of comments saying my works are underrated, so I guess that’s a thing. Maybe the ideas of someone’s kid getting a whole 10 chapter POV scares them off, or making Higuchi a main and well-explored character… beats me haha

(also I wonder if people get mad seeing me in the tags here for posting official art for an AU literally only I care about… but I really want to share some of it, you know? In case anyone does care)

S: Symbolism… oh, I’m so gLAD YOU ASKED

My first fic was p a c k e d with it. I mean, people were referred to as dolls, as soldiers, as angels and demons… grief turned into birds, multidimensional legacies turned into wars.

In other stuff, alcoholism has been a hole, suicide has been a shovel, a character’s entire life and drug addiction was a German movie from the 80s..weird stuff. And my current fic doesn’t have any major symbolism yet? I think later on puppetry will be a thing, same with shogi and/or chess… those are kinda basic though XD

But as far as across my fics go? Not symbolism, but there’s an overarching theme of “sins of the father are not the sins of the son”. In other words, at least one character in all of my major fics have to come to the realization that the horrible things their father or mother have done or are doing are NOT horrible things that they are to blame for, are to apologize for, or are to feel guilty about. There have also been/will also be two characters who relate to their past using separate names. One was given the name Ruth Holmann by her father (who kidnapped her) to suppress her cultural identity and hide her from her birth parents, and in her mind, Kyoko (birth name) died when she was 8 years old. Her town believes this, too, and actually builds her a grave. Ruth, then, replaces her for the next 20 or so years. But when she returns to her town after reuniting with her mother, and sees the grave, she becomes so afraid seeing the name and hearing the book’s talking magic dead mermaid bird (don’t ask lol) call her, “Dead Girl” that she reconsiders it all. And in my current fic, (lol now we get to Death Note) because the AU is that Light went to Wammy’s, he sees himself in two versions: Hikaru Yamaji, a manipulative control freak who dreamed about pushing his foster mother down a flight of stairs and killing her (really he developed a need to control people out of the chaos of losing his parents but he’s hard on himself haha) AND Light, a well-behaved school student with a beautiful girlfriend in a happy relationship who’s also first in line to succeed L. But as the plot starts to twist (WHICH IS LITERALLY COMING THE NEXT CHAPTER AND I’M S O O O O EXCITED) he begins to question which one he really is, and which one was ever real at all.

LMAO THAT WAS LONG

I’M SO SORRY FOR RANTING EVERYONE WHO MADE IT THIS FAR GETS A FREE COOKIE 🍪

#Fanfic #Writing #Writeblr #Ask

1 note · View note

polandspringz · 4 years ago

Text

Director’s Cut of My Fic “I’d Rather Be Dry” Part 2 (Chapter 3)

Chapter 3 was probably the most painful chapter of a fic I’ve ever had to write, and not because I was sad writing the sad scenes. No, this fic was physically painful to write because it took 3 days and I was struggling to sit down and write it the entire time because even though I had the whole thing planned out, I just felt like I was dragging through it and eventually had to change some things to speed it up a bit. Still, it ended up being the longest chapter because I had to tie up so many loose ends! Luckily for me, my beta-reader @primal-shitposts read it through for me again, so I didn’t have to suffer again!!! If you want to support not only me but my beta-reader who makes sure my fic lacks grammar errors (and also gives you this great commentary on these types of posts), please go to their art blog @primal-interstellar and give their artwork some love!!! They deserve it after slogging through this mess of a fic for a game they don’t even play.

Since there are a lot of funny quotes from this proof-read, I’ll post them all under read more. Beta-reader (Primal) is in pink. If you see blue text, that’s me typing stuff in frantically before she skipped to the next line:

I actually originally wrote the opening scene with Satan in a lot more detail. It dropped us in the present where he was in the office, and Diavolo and everyone was just looking on as he slowly ran out of energy. But, I got about 3 pages in and realized it was dragging and so I cut it and swapped it for a flashback on the walk home.

While I intended for this to be a much more dramatic anime scene of Satan just silent as he ran out of steam and could barely move his arms save for slapping the guy, I love this interpretation.

I CAN’T EXPLAIN WHY BUT THIS WAS THE FUNNIEST COMMENT IN THE DOCUMENT. NOTHING TOPPED THIS. I DON’T UNDERSTAND BUT IT’S SO OUT OF LEFT FIELD IT HAD ME DYING

Primal knows about Lucifer birthing Satan because the moment I started playing the game I made her watch a crack video with me that mentioned it. Although I know she likes Leviathan cause sea monsters, I’m convinced Satan might be one of her favorites. On a side note, writing dialogue for Satan is very hard because he is very proper but when he snaps, I always feel unsure of whether it sounds believable or just like a string of curses that a twelve year old would think sounds cool. 😎 I do like the father/son dynamic Lucifer and Satan hint at though (and from what I hear the new lessons might be adding on to that? oWO)

I honestly don’t know how the demons who attacked MC aren’t dead yet. They’re basically disfigured and then Satan just doubled the damage and then tripled it in the council room this chapter. Somehow they’re not dead though! I wonder what MC will have to say about their punishment...

QUICK, SOMEONE DRAW SATAN WITH THE CRAFTING TABLE STARING AT THE DOOR WHILE THE EQUATIONS FLY BY HIS HEAD

I did choose the “yes” option when Beel asked to eat me in the animal event. It was not because of vore though, but I do make many vore jokes. I could imagine MC being forced to explain vore to Lucifer (or all the brothers) after making a joke and them being confused. Writing Beel’s breakdown this chapter wasn’t initially planned, and it was sort of what really started to make writing this fic slow down because as you might notice throughout the fic, I suddenly felt the need to give every brother an equal amount of screen time which sort of led to me RUNNING OUT OF VERBS for how to make each breakdown unique.

Okay, so the next part. I was actively seeing the comments as they popped up, but there was a delay with the comment box on the side appearing before the actual comments in the text. So, I saw this:

And had two seconds to go “Oh no” before this was added:

From here on it was chaos.

Listen, the boys are idiots. They’re all concerned, Mammon just doesn’t want MC to get upset again. In reality, this sort of dialogue stemmed more from me still lingering on the original idea of the fic. The original concept of this fic (when it was just a one-shot) was MC still getting attacked by a demon in the locker-room showers (for their soul) but because I was originally thinking about a female reader, I knew that it could have more of an undertone for sexual assault. I actually first discussed the fic idea with Primal months back when I first got into Obey Me, because I wanted to write a snippet of each brother helping MC after the event (it wasn’t going to be extreme, I was thinking more accidental scratches during the scuffle closer to the chest and such and maybe the assailants having more dialogue demeaning MC for being around the 7 brothers all the time) but I realized I didn’t have much experience with that and it would make writing scenes that I thought about (such as Asmo wanting to give MC a bath as aftercare) difficult as I could see someone after an attack like that not wanting to be in a bathroom with someone else or be vulnerable to them. I ended up playing with that idea in my previous Mammon fic with more different comfort aspects and touching on that kind of assault briefly, so this fic ended up just being focused on the brothers’ being upset over what happened to MC.

As much as writing Satan’s angry dialogue is a pain, I have fun making him talk with a more formal tone, it’s closer to how I normally talk, and prefer to write my characters talking. I have no problem writing contractions or more casual speech, but for one of my fantasy stories, where I’m writing in English but trying to differentiate different languages through italics or just whether they use certain contractions or not, I tend to really stress the characters that use absolutely zero and more complicated synonyms.

I DON’T KNOW WHY BUT IT WOULD BE HILARIOUS IF MC JUST ASKED FOR SOUP OUT OF THE BLUE I’M IMAGINING ASMO BEING LIKE “BITCH I TOOK ALL THIS TIME DEBATING OVER HOT OR COLD TEA AND NOW YOU’RE SAYING YOU’RE FINE WITH HOT SOUP???”

I know the shower idea may have been really corny or cringey. I know a lot of people write things like the water in Devildom as being much hotter (cause their near hell and their demons! It makes sense, also I think Asmo might have mentioned in a text chat he would make the water cooler for MC? But I could be wrong) but I imagine their is some demons who aren’t powerful enough to handle a lot of the settings. Of course though, our demon bros are 7 of the highest demons in Devildom, so they’re immune.

*Slaps this comment* Congrats, Primal. You just summarized the entire chapter.

I find Leviachan to be such a funny nickname, mainly because writing any dialogue for Levi makes me cringe because while I was a VERY big weeaboo in elementary and middle school, I was so lucky I never hit his stage of acting like an otaku. While it’s charming, having to type him in more modern fic is even more painful because it’s like “oh god he actually goes into the real world and talks like this). Sidenote, I always mispronounce Levi’s name when I’m talking about him, mainly because I have to remember so many anime characters where their name is pronounced Lee-Vai or I just think of the brand of jeans (fashion major brain). So, whenever I’m talking out loud about him to someone, I have to stop and be like, “Levi... Leviachan...Leviathan...” because that “a” sound corrects my brain to how it’s supposed to be.

*throws confetti again* Believe I felt the pain of this fic dragging through every boy going back on their character development I had given them but I felt it was only fair that each of them got time with MC. As the tag on archive says, “everybody gets time to shine with MC”. (I really just want to write Barbatos’ scene for chapter 4 though)

This scene was hard to write because I wanted Levi to get closure on the scene with MC, but I couldn’t have him straight up kabedon them because then he would be cornering them and I thought that would be too much like what MC went through in the shower. Although I didn’t write anyone in explicitly summarizing what happened to MC, and Levi saw the least of it, I think he’s seen enough series depicting it to know that cornering them would be bad, but he still wants to show that he loves them and cares about them. Also, when I was writing this, I remember just going through a counter of who got the most smooches in chapter 3. Originally only Mammon was going to get 2, putting him in the lead above everyone who got 1, but then I felt back for giving Levi the least screen time and just gave him 3.

Honestly, chapter 3 really took a turn for a more intimate chapter??? Especially with Asmo’s one-on-one scene with MC, it was all downhill from there. I have noticed with quarantine, my writing has become more focused on touch (if you read any of my Balance:Unlimited fics or even my Mammon fic, you would definitely die if you tried to do a drinking game with the number of times someone TOUCHES the other gently). It’s just an unfortunate projection issue that comes with writing.

And here is complete chaos. I had blocked this game from my memory and then I was forced to remember it right here.

Removing these meme images from the fic text will be tedious, and painful. But, I am preserving them here. (I type up these directors’ cuts before publishing the final version of the fic, so I don’t lose the comments)

I’m not even at lesson 16 yet, but based on all the spoilers I read, watched, and scene for research purposes, I’m pretty sure it was more of a-

This is what writing 11k+ words for one chapter worth it. The final read through I get to enjoy things like this.

I wish Belphie was 7′2″. 😳 I like Beel but Belphie is one of my favs. Ironically enough he was the one who skipped this fic. (I’ll make it up to you one day, Belphie fans.... will we ever know what they talked about and what made Belphie cry? Personally, I think it’s like the iceberg effect Hemingway talked about, and says more under the surface... it’s totally not because I got burned out, lolololol.... 🤭)

I WAS ACCIDENTALLY FEEDING DIALUCI STANS but again, if you’ve read my Mammon fic, you probably know my true thoughts on Diavolo and Lucifer’s relationship. This fic is so MC focused, I wasn’t intending to write it in so much, Diavolo was just supposed to order Lucifer to go home, that’s it. But, I got rejuvenated when I hit Lucifer’s scene, because I knew it was the homestretch for the chapter! I really played up a Hamilton reference accidentally, having the “Go home” line repeated, because it just felt like the vibe the scene was getting at. I am hoping to explore Diavolo and Lucifer’s relationship more in my modern au fic, Siberia.

I hate tumblr because if I attach a link in the initial post, this won’t appear in the tag, but Primal’s comment here made me think of this art I saw of Lucifer and Satan the other day by ObsessiveAlice (I don’t want to tag them because they’ll be so confused by this long unrelated post! But I’ll put the link to their art in the notes/replies on this post, so check them out!!!)

I know it wasn’t the most romantic kiss but again I WAS RUNNING OUT OF WAYS TO MAKE THE BROTHERS HAVE UNIQUE SCENES SO I GOT DESPERATE.

And that’s the end!!! Again, if you liked the fic, more than giving me a like or reblog, please go check out Primal’s wonderful artwork @primal-interstellar !!! She does a lot of great oc work and it needs more recognition!!! Almost all of my fics would never get posted without her help, so please, please, please show her support! (She has an animatic she just made which I will also link in the replies!!! Please give that love too!!!)

Anyway, if you made it to the end, I don’t know if you got a laugh out of this, but I hope you enjoyed the fic commentary somewhat! I was going to post chapter 3+4 at the same time like I did the prior chapters, but chapter 3 took so long I had to just lay on my floor for 3 hours earlier today to take a break from it, lol. Luckily, I’m very excited for chapter 4, so it shouldn’t take as long!!!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me masters #writing #my writing #fanfic #fic #obey me fic #directors cut

14 notes · View notes

withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus · 5 years ago

Text

Let’s talk about quarantine streams and smartass fans

This might piss off some people, but I’ve had it so here we go...these past 2 months have been hard for pretty much all of us and the fact some visual kei artists chose to not leave us alone during this time means a lot. Several of them did their part in their own way and we should all be thankful BUT still, some fans of some bands seem to find it soooo fuckin hard to not throw poison, even during a time like this, and instead of just being happy about their bands being there for them, compare bands to theirs and belittle the effort of everyone else. So I felt like sharing what I noticed from other bands to enlighten some narrowminded fans and also to clear some things up. I am not going to cut this, this will be a long-ass post so you’ve been warned.

So let’s start with the two of the biggest names in the industry shall we?

The Gazette: Many of the Gazette’s fans are disappointed because the band hasn’t been around during this whole time, and many Dir en Grey fans feel like it’s the perfect time to post things like “Where’s your band now?“ or “Gazette who?“. For your information, Reita, Kai and Aoi have been around too, just not as much as other band members. They check on us. And anyway the other day that Reita tried to share an opinion on people sending hate to artists and generally other people, many fans attacked him. He didn’t tell you not to tell your opinion, people, he just said it’s good to filter your fuckin tongue before talking. Did anyone of you think, even for just one second, that he said that because of what’s going around about them right now? And at the end of the day none of the artists who even did spend sometime with us owed us this. Yes we support them, we buy their stuff etc etc, but the only thing artists owe us back for that support is more music and art, not spending their free time with us, nor being our personal psychologists. So yes, please and I mean that, by all means show your gratitude to those who did that these days, but don’t attack bands who didn’t. And I don’t mean JUST the Gazette. Many more bands didn’t do the whole free lives & broadcast thingy, but since they are a big name, they are getting named the most. About Ruki now. I see people saying things like, oh Ruki is hibernating etc, when many fans were yearning for a new album. Personally I wouldn’t be surprised if when the whole quarantine is over, the Gazette will announce a new album. How do you know he is just staying inside doing nth? How do you know he is not caring for his own people or even working on new stuff around the very subject of the virus? I won’t speak about Uruha cause Uruha isn’t a fan of social media in general.

Dir en Grey: Dir en Grey is one of the bands that actually did a lot to stay by the side of their fans from early on during the quarantine, sth which filled their fans with joy. So I don’t understand why their fans then felt the need to start spreading hate to other bands, I really don’t. Dir en Grey were also one of the first bands that did a free live and in a huge arena like it was a full-scale show. I found that really remarkable and I was like whoa this is so amazing of them. But seeing their fans say things like “oh no other band does that, bitches“ etc, made me not care so much and overshadowed their kindness with hate and fans who really don’t deserve all that, in my opinion. I am not saying all fans are like that, in any way, I follow so many amazing Dir en Grey fans who are genuinely exhilarated about what they did and who just post about their happiness without hating on others, but yeah it’s really such a big shame to see the dark side of their fandom. Every fandom has a dark side but during this quarantine I got to see Dir en Grey’s one, as I am only familiar with the fandoms I myself am in. So for those bitter Dir en Grey fans I got one thing to say: not every band has their money to make such a show in such a big arena and hundreds more vkei artist actually stayed by their fans side during the whole quarantine. Shocking I know.

And now that’s out of the way, let’s talk about bands that were there too from home:

Kaya: Since the beginning of quarantine, Kaya has been online all the time, interacting with fans, doing various broadcasts, dolled up or casual, and telling everyone we are fighting this together and that he will be on our side no matter what. He’s been showering fans with love, he uploaded videoclips that hadn’t been uploaded so far on his youtube and some songs live. He is going through all kinds of things from fanarts to comments about anything and does so many broadcasts that I have lost count.

REIGN: Even though the band is disbanding at the end of May, during the whole quarantine, all four members have been twitcasting from time to time, with Ikuma being the overdoer as he streamed from 3-4 hours every few days, discussing about various subjects with fans. Even when they weren’t twitcasting, all REIGN members were on twitter, posting and being there for their fans. They also joined a 3-man live with Grimoire and Sick2′s side project at the beginning of the quarantine which they broadcasted for free. The live house wasn’t very big but it was good enough for the three bands performing and they also answered comments until the people working at the live house told them it was time to close for the night

D: D were more active for their paying fandom, but they sure didn’t leave those not belonging in their vip list hanging. They were on twitter the whole time, sharing videos of themselves playing music and even joining tag games that spread among vkei artists during the quarantine to pass their time, urging everyone to stay inside and stay safe. Also, Asagi took an active part in providing for charity during such times. Before the pandemic was announced it had already been decided D were working on a charity single that would send some of the earnings to Australia for the damage of the forest fires last year and, after this was done, he focused on providing money for live houses who were threatened to close due to lack of activity through a single that was written for everyone to know they are not alone. In case you haven’t heard, many live houses hosting vkei shows have been closing the last few years, making it harder for bands to find sometime during each week to perform somewhere. Once live houses are done, so will visual kei artists be, unless they of course turn to online performances. So Asagi focused on providing for the future of the live scene, which was very smart move at the moment and if I remember well some money went to providing people with more masks too. There is a new charity streaming happening at the moment for children, btw.

GLAY: GLAY donated 10 million yen and 5000 masks to medical institutions for COVID-19 relief. Need I say more? GLAY have also been active on their social media for their fans’ sake. I don’t know any more details, cause I don’t follow them that much, but they did things not only for their fans but also for their country.

Kamijo: Kamijo has also being active on social media but moreso lately, starting his own broadcasts to interact with fans. Until that point it seemed that he was working on various things and organizing them to have the form they have now. Kamijo also changed the lyrics of the lead song of his latest single Persona Grata so that the enemy mentioned in it is more of an invisible one instead of a story-focused one like he usually does. According to him, he did that so that the song can work as a hope provider against our current invisible enemy, the virus. He said he wanted to lift people’s spirits and use this song to spread hope, so he made that little change and let me tell you, it is an amazing and powerful ballad. Also, since some if not all shippings have been ceased at the moment, Kamijo uploaded the whole single on his youtube channel for free so that everyone can listen to it and hopefully find some strength to keep believing and maybe get lost in it and forget about the general chaos a little.

Gackt: No, I don’t want to hear it. If you are his haters and haven’t even tried to read or experience what he does for his fans, don’t bother coming for me. Gackt has already been trying to share funny moments with his fans and he hopes he does make it with that, through his instagram and youtube so I wasn’t surprised he kept doing that during quarantine. Last week, he uploaded all his live shows on youtube so that his fans can watch them during quarantine if they wish. He couldn’t provide us with a show during such days so he did give us every show he has done so far for free and so that we could enjoy a show from home. He also kept doing workouts to show us, encouraging us to stay inside and be hopeful and mindful of the people around us. He also started some accent lessons in English for Japanese fans, but I guess even that would be cringy to some of you so you will pass it like that. He’s been trying to spread laughter to his fans and I really appreciate that. And for the hate he got even for that, well, if you don’t like his humor, focus on your favorites and leave him and his fans be. :)

Sui/David: Sui had a performance arranged for Paris around this time but due to the pandemic, he couldn’t make it. He had even fundraised about it so he was really saddened he couldn’t make it. To make up for it, though, he went to a studio with just another person and performed for both his Paris and other fans live with a single phone recording. The studio was really small and, some of you might think oh well big deal, it was just one person, but the place was stuffed with furniture and equipment and on top of that, Sui isn’t very tiny, he is like 1,82 cm so, it was hard for him to move around. But yeah he still tried, he came all dressed up in his costume and even though there were no special effects, good lighting nor a band with him, he did his best to entertain his fans and I respect that. And I also had a good time. ^^ He had prepared enough songs only for 30 minutes that are given for free from twitcast as, obviously he didn’t expect many people to show up nor send him coins (points on twitcast to prolong broadcast) so after that, he cheerfully accepted to keep this going for 30 more minutes, singing a song one more time, then talking with us and closing his show with a Malice Mizer cover of Ma Chérie.

BPR bands: Well all BPR bands have taken over youtube the last one year, but even more so now, the bands kept posting videos to entertain the fans. They also did broadcasts in which they talked with other members online and also interacted with fans. I only follow Kiryu on twitter so I can’t speak for everyone but they sure continued being active on twitter on days like these and joke around to spread some laughs.

Alice Nine: Another band that has been online the whole time these days and broadcasting often. Tora has been taking his gaming channel very seriously these days and yes he has an option to tip him if you want, in fact several vkei artists do that because, like I said, not everyone has the money to survive without working these days, especially artists who can’t really sell their art at the moment, but his youtube lives are free, entertaining and a good company if you are feeling alone. He posts a new video every day or every two days, if sth comes up. Hiroto already had a radio show so I think he keeps going there, I haven’t checked, I’ve only seen his twitcasts but yes all the members have been twitcasting, for vip fans and not and recently they had a broadcast all together from home.

Other artists who also broadcasted a lot and/or did live shows are: RAZOR, Diaura, DOG inThePWO, Mana (Kozi and Yu~ki were more active in tweets not broadcasts), Zamb, Ryutaro (also mostly in tweets), Byo, Jin & Rui Takeru/Sleepyhead, Agato/Izumi (full father mode on his tweets ^^’), Versailles members and Vistlip, SHiSHi, Neth Priere Cain, i.D.A, Satoshi, etc etc.

Now be civil and nice and think before you speak. Enjoy your shows and broadcasts, be grateful and stop throwing poison.

#i am so done #the last 3 days have brought me to my limit with this bullshit #why are so many people so immature dammit #can't you just enjoy things without being a bitch about what others do #especially if you don't fuckin know what others do

21 notes · View notes

tev-the-random · 5 years ago

Text

A casual Sonic Forces rewrite + some headcanons, because why not

Part 1 – Infinite and Episode Shadow

Just a warning: none of the images used here belong to me! They all belong to SEGA – the game screenshots, the official art and the comic pages.

Next Part ->

I have yet to see the Sonic Movie, because the universe seems devoted on not letting me do so, for some reason. Being as desperate for Sonic content but as determined to not receive spoilers from the movie as I am, I decided to go for the next coolest thing: writing really long and random posts about a game that came out three years ago and no one cares about anymore.

This shall be fun!

(Update: as of posting this, I have finally watched the movie! But I don’t want to throw this away, so I’ll post it anyway. We can have a nice talk about the movie later.)

*“Fist Bump instrumental” intro plays*

*“This is Our World: a New Hero” plays in the background*

I’m the type of person to always try and see the best in every game, and Sonic Forces is no different. Despite its obvious flaws, I love this beautiful game! Mostly the concept of it is one of the coolest things I’ve seen this last decade, but the execution… lacks on a few things. I mostly just fill in the gaps with my imagination and enjoy it nevertheless, but, upon going through the tag and seeing that some of my concerns were shared by other people, I decided to try my hand at rewriting Sonic Forces juuust a tiny bit. Just for fun!

For this first part (and I have no idea how many parts we should have), I’d like to share some of my ideas about…

*Infinite’s Theme plays in the background as I try hard not to sing along*

Oh, my poor jackal boy, what do we do with you? Despite being so heavily promoted and having an undeniably awesome theme song, Infinite’s backstory and general development throughout the game came out as lacking, having the self-proclaimed edgelord become a laughingstock amongst most fans. Nevertheless, I still love Infinite, and it saddens me how much wasted potential he had; it’s like they were trying to write a really interesting character, but gave up halfway through.

So yeah, let’s talk about it. And let us begin with his origin story.

I believe you are all familiar with this scene:

I… I want to defend my boy here, I really do. But honestly, the way this was portrayed, it just sounded like he was throwing a childish tantrum. It seems as if his entire motive for becoming a villain was “Shadow beat him and called him weak”; dude, you’re not the only one: Shadow does this to basically everybody who’s ever crossed his way! We’re not given a reason as to why Infinite gets so bloody offended, nor are we given a reason why we should care.

So, how can we fix this? I think we should firstly focus less on “I’M NOT WEEEEAAAAK!!! URRAAAAGHH!!!” and more on:

It doesn’t need to be – and I don’t even think it can be – as sad of a situation as the Rivaille Squad in Shingeki No Kyojin or anything, but I believe that showing us that Infinite lost something important would already do wonders to his backstory.

The simplest way – that is, the way that doesn’t majorly change how things go, but does give the jackal a clearer motive – to do this would involve the ever so humble inclusion of two new cutscenes and one new in-game battle, plus a few tweaks to some already existing scenes.

Episode Shadow begins not with the usual reading introduction, but rather, with Shadow’s voice. “I was a couple of months before the Doctor took over the world. The first time I encountered him… I didn’t know what he would become.” Then we open with what used to be a couple of months prior (aka where they presented Infinite’s memory, aka where they screwed up), so we’ll go through things in a chronological order instead of having a flashback inside of a prequel, because that’s confusing AF.

Now, instead of starting the Mystic Jungle level immediately, we should get a small cutscene: Shadow gliding through the jungle, cool camera angles/lighting and all – maybe something similar to the opening scene of Episode Shadow in Sonic 06? –, on his way to invade Eggman’s base as a voice coming from the hedgehog’s communicator reminds him about his mission (yep, that’s some subtle exposition to the audience so we don’t think Shadow is there just because). My idea for said mission would be the simple task of retrieving a Chaos Emerald (yeah, remember those?) from Eggman. Nothing too serious; just another day, another emerald stolen like usual; we’ve seen this before, there’s no need for a long dialogue.

As the black-and-red blur crosses the screen, the camera pans to a group of people hiding above in the trees: Squad Jackal. Infinite is not among them. One of the jackals asks “where’ the boss?” to which another one replies that he’s on the other side of the base/talking to the Doctor/whatever and they have no time to waste; their mission is to take down the intruder and protect the base. We get something in the lines of “the boss is counting on us. Expect no mercy, show no weakness. Let’s go!” and the camera fades out as the squad drops from the trees and runs after Shadow.

I believe that having the phrase “show no weakness” – or any possible reference to “I’m not weak”, really – appear earlier as seemingly common and then have it become something the character gives a lot of importance to due to consequences and parallels sounds a bit more interesting than having Infinite’s inferiority complex come out of nowhere.

The Mystic Jungle level plays as usual, except the dialogue in the background doesn’t say that “the Defence Squad has already been completely annihilated”, but rather that “the Defence Squad is on the case. They’re the best mercenaries there are, Shadow won’t stand a chance!” because Doctor Eggman is naive like that.

Once we reach the end of the level there’s another change: a boss battle against Squad Jackal. You see, we don’t want to hear the squad was taken down like some sort of lazy exposition, because it feels incomplete; we want to participate, we want to be the protagonist and see with our own eyes just what is Infinite’s squad. This gives faces and voices to something that will become an important plot point instead of just telling us “yeah, this happened or whatever”. This could also play as some sort of sympathy point for Infinite, because we, while in control of Shadow, took down his squad; it makes the villain’s animosity towards Shadow and his general anger at least a bit more understandable.

The idea is that this battle should play as some sort of field fight – that is, differently than most boss battles in Sonic Forces, this is not a racing track where you attack your enemy while running, but rather a large secluded area, much like the one we get in the fight between the Custom Hero and the DeathEgg Robot –, where squad members would attack individually in different patterns before going for a group attack. The individual jackals would have both projectile (perhaps something like a wispon, knives or some Eggman invention to keep it family friendly enough?) and close-ranged attacks, while the group attack would consist of this mass of wild jackals changing at you, trying to run you over. The opportunity windows could be either the moment when the opponents switch or band together for the group attack.

(I don’t know, maybe some of you can think of better ways to fight the Jackal Squad? This is just a random idea! I’d like to hear different ones!)

Once the fight is over, we get another cutscene: Shadow stands among the fallen jackals – don’t worry, they’re… sleeping… yeah, there’s no visible blood, they’re not dead… except they’re totally dead – and looks around for a second or two. His expression is indecipherable, and he soon leaves without saying a word – one might say he feels bad for them, or maybe he doesn’t give a damn; we leave that open to interpretation. Not a moment passes and we get to see the leader of the squad arriving at the scene. The camera moves in a circle around him as he looks at his fallen comrades in shock. How did this happen? They were the strongest, how could his whole squad be dead? This is a rather touching moment, where Infinite sticks his sword (because in his origins comic he used to have a super cool red sword and I want to pretend we have a reason for it not existing in the game) to the ground; there’s a feeling of anger and vengeance going on as we get a closer look at the last standing jackal. He clenches his fists and faces the direction of Shadow. “Expect no mercy, show no weakness,” he says in an infuriated, strangled voice. He starts to run and the camera fades out.

(Look at his sword and his squad, man. I do wish we could have seen them in the game…)

When the camera fades in again, we get that exact same cutscene from the game. Blah blah, “destroyed my squad”, blah blah, “ultimate mercenary”, a legendary ass whooping and Infinite falls to the ground, weak, pathetic and defeated.

Now, I’d like to add just a few lines to their dialogue, because this:

Doesn’t really sound like Shadow to me. I mean, man: you beat this random guy to the ground, called him worthless and pathetic out of nowhere and then you just leave? I know Shadow is rather apathetic and he’s supposed to be savage and all, but this just felt kind of out of place…

So instead of going full rude mode, what Shadow actually says is:

‘You’re part of the Defence Squad, aren’t you? Why would a bunch of mercenaries work for the Doctor? What is he hiding?’

‘The doctor paid well enough to not have his secrets spilled,’ Infinite retorts while trying to get up. He’s too hurt to do much, but he’s still willing to fight. He looks at Shadow with fiery eyes as he continues, ‘My squad… you took them down like they were nothing… why wouldn’t someone as strong as you be a mercenary?’

‘Mercenary work is for the weak,’ the hedgehog states matter-of-factly. ‘I’ve sworn to protect, not to follow the dirty line of work you did.’

This blows Infinite’s mind and he simply stares at Shadow, dumbfounded. He murmurs, ‘weak? How dare you, I’m not… We’re not weak! We’re the squad o-’

‘Where’s the Chaos Emerald?’ The jackal’s statement is completely ignored. However, Infinite is having none of this, so tries to attack Shadow once again in a fit of rage, only for the hedgehog to give him a signature roundhouse kick free of charge.

(Image merely illustrative)

‘What a waste of my time,’ Edgelord Number 1 says, aware that he’s not getting any useful information from this. He steps closer and Edgelord Number 2 flinches, ‘here’s some advice: don’t show your face around me ever again, or else I will finish you.’

And with that, Shadow teleports away, leaving Infinite to his existential crisis. He wasn’t able to avenge his friends; he wasn’t able to protect the base; heck, he wasn’t even able to hold his title of ultimate mercenary! How useless of a leader was he? Were mercenaries truly weak? Everything they’ve done… was it all worthless? Show no weakness… what did it even mean? They were all defeated, and Infinite can’t shake the feeling that he’s to blame for it. Wasn’t he supposed to be the best?

‘What is this? I’m…’ He looks at his hands, which are trembling ‘I’m shaking? I flinched? I... We failed… How pathetic… All because…’

Infinite stops as if he’s just gotten a moment of clarity. He then gets up and starts walking inside Eggman’s base. ‘I’m not weak,’ he says in a decided, chilling whisper; it’s almost scary. The view is set at the entrance, right in front of the jackal so that he starts blocking the light from the outside as he slowly walks towards the camera - while saying in that scary voice, “No mercy, no weakness”.

(I can totally see Liam O’Brien delivering this line perfectly…)

Then the last expository narrating happens about the same, except that Shadow narrates it – giving continuity to the fact that he was the one who started narrating this episode for a reason I will talk about later –, so we change a few words to match his speech more; it’s all in the third person and very husky and brooding, but with a subtle note of dread (oh, if only Jason Griffith would voice it… No disrespect to Kirk Thornton, but he just doesn’t hit Shadow’s perfect voice like Jason did; for me, at least. His Orbot voice is fantastic, though).

Now, instead of having Infinite looking forward for a few seconds before he gets the Phantom Ruby out of nowhere and places it in his chest very anti-climatically, we’ll do something different: as soon as he puts on the mask, he starts walking away, and we change settings to a dimly lit room, where we see Infinite from behind, fitting the frame perfectly. Following the beat of the background music, the camera changes to a close shot of his masked face as he’s holding the Phantom Ruby, which is glowing, reflecting on his mask and giving us a beautifully red-lit scene; it’s possible to hear very low, indiscernible whispers coming from the jewel. We then hear a small, evil chuckle from the masked jackal – he already sounds rather different from the guy who stuck his sword to the ground in honour of his friends earlier. The screen goes black, the whole “I was… Reborn!” thing dramatically happens in Infinite’s echoing voice and the not-flashback is over.

(I know this last part was quite specific and oddly detailed, but I had the scenes very clear in my head I wanted to try conveying how intimidating it looked to me o3o)

Ok, now that that’s done, prepare yourselves for an intermission. And by that, I mean prepare yourselves for a long analytical commentary on what I just wrote.

*”This is Our World: Phase 2″ plays in the background*

(Who is Shadow working for again? I don’t even know, man…)

Shadow isn’t just the guy who called Infinite pathetic. He’s the guy who killed Infinite’s squad (his friends) without any apparent remorse – and to be hypocrite as to say he’d sworn to protect when he just did something like this (yeah, Infinite doesn’t know any context of Shadow’s life, so of course he doesn’t understand what he meant); the guy who ruined everything he had going with his new job as leader of the Defence Squad; the guy who put him several levels under what he thought he was; the guy who questioned his entire way of living and the guy who put him under a lingering threat; “don’t show your face around me ever again” feels more intimidating now. Not only that, but, despite how Infinite might hate Shadow, he recognizes him as strong, admirable even – “why wouldn’t someone as strong as you be a mercenary?” Remember that Infinite himself is a mercenary; to actually acknowledge someone would be good at something you’re good at, specially someone you don’t like, has to be a sign of admiration, albeit a frustrating one. All of this puts a lot more of weight on how Infinite thinks of Shadow and why being stronger than the hedgehog is so important to him.

I made it so that “expect no mercy, show no weakness” is something like the Jackal Squad’s motto, their philosophy. I like to think it means that they should never count on someone’s mercy, for their enemies won’t spare them; they should always go into battle aware that they might actually be fighting for their lives. At the same time, they should always stand their ground and never let anyone think they can take advantage of a squad member. This is what the jackals live for. But seeing as Infinite’s world has just been shattered and he failed hard on everything, he revises his mentality. “No mercy, no weakness” is what he’s going for now, as he wants to be above everyone, he wants to effectively be the strongest and for people to know that; he will be the one who doesn’t spare others, and he won’t be weak at all. Never again would a failure cost him that much, for never again would he fail.

To have Infinite place the Phantom Ruby on his own chest in Episode Shadow contradicts the opening scene of the main campaign. Remember the episode is a prequel to Sonic Forces’ main game, so it shouldn’t be completely detached from it; things must make sense when put together. As the main game begins by showing us Infinite inside of a tube in Eggman’s lab, we can assume one of two things: he’s either a robot/biological experiment created entirely by the scientist, or he’s a guy who’s been experimented on, thus Eggman was the one who placed the Phantom Ruby on him. With this in mind, it wouldn’t make sense to show us Infinite doing something if you’re going to tell us that he couldn’t have possibly done it on his own. But to have him hold the ruby as someone who deeply desires its powers and who listens to its ominous whispering? Not only does it line better with the aforementioned scene, but it also makes Infinite seem more prone to the ruby’s power (instead of just… you know, “random angry dude”).

As this intermission has gone on long enough, I’ll only make a brief commentary on the Phantom Ruby: I like the idea of the ruby being somewhat alive and exerting influence over Infinite. Now, I won’t say it’s the kind of influence where it justifies his horrible behaviour or the awful things he did. It’s less “mind-control” and more “that best friend who always encourages you and never calls you out on your bullshit”. Its grooming Infinite’s ego and just nudging him to keep making bad decisions, to keep shutting himself in this new reality where he’s all powerful and above everyone else. So it’s the jackal’s pride, spite and grief, along with Eggman’s overall encouragement and the Phantom Ruby’s influence all put together that, in a general sense, make Infinite what he is. (I can go into more detail about this idea once I make a Part 2.)

Mission Accomplished: “angry bitchy boy turned edgy, OP and unimpressed” changed his status to “tragic boy turned edgy, bitter and extremely power-hungry”.

Intermission’s over, let’s get back to the story!

With Infinite’s backstory slightly redone (or rather, shown under a different light), I could stop right here. But I don’t want to, oh no! I say we take this a few steps further and just finish Episode Shadow! Yeah, I told you this was going to be a long post.

*”Battle with Infinite: Second Bout” plays in the background*

Ok, now we cut to a few months later, where Episode Shadow would originally begin. Rouge comments that Omega was on recon mission in that “unknown base of operations that seems to be totally outside the chain of command for Eggman’s army” (whatever that is supposed to mean) when he spotted an unidentified masked person with strange energy readings and an unknown battle ID. Omega reported a “large scale troop” and… that’s it, he just stopped talking. Rouge then talks about that “new weapon” Eggman was supposedly developing and sends Shadow to the base to investigate along with Omega. She makes a remark about how they should get the entire Team Dark together for this (“It should be fun”), but Shadow dismisses the idea, saying that he’s enough on his own. “Omega said the same thing. You two go together like chilli and hot dogs.”

We can keep this at the whole “dialogue on screen” thing. I don’t really mind and it sure spares the budget.

The City stage plays as usual, except the dialogue in the background changes a bit, because Team Dark bickering (or just talking in general, I love this team so much) is my jam.

‘E-123 Omega here. Extermination proceeding without incident. No problems to report.’

‘Omega!’ Rouge exclaims, ‘Why have you stopped responding earlier? We- wait, extermination? This is supposed to be a recon mission, what are you doing?!’

‘I was spotted. Priorities conflicted; therefore I decided to eliminate the enemy altogether. New Mission Objective: Defeat Eggman.’

‘But you can’t go making a scene like that!’

‘See, this is what happens when you send the giant killer robot for this kind of op,’ Shadow sasses. And I’ll imagine Jason’s voice for this too, thank you.

‘I have several reports of recon missions where you retaliated, Shadow.’

‘I might have to join you boys soon enough. I turn my back for five seconds and this happens…’ Rouge comments in a tired voice.

Omega is ready to start robotically recounting the reports of failed recon missions where Shadow retaliated, but he is suddenly cut by static and the vague sound of the Phantom Ruby. Rouge tries to contact him again and we get small bits of his original lines here – “All sensors offline”, “Casualty report”, “Unidentified system intrusion. Emergency withdrawal!” and “I am E-123 Omega, the most powerf-sjfpstswq”, that stuff – before his communication is completely cut. Shadow asks something like “what’s going on?”, but his communication with Rouge is cut as well. We play whatever’s left of the level in silence (except for the sweet background music).

(Oh yeah, this happened or whatever…)

Now, I know the next scene is a screen dialogue again, and I know I just said I don’t mind it, but watching this:

… Is so bloody uncomfortable. This feels dumb. This is so dumb. I feel like they robbed us an epic scene in exchange of some awkward reading with absolutely no context. What the hell is “!” supposed to mean?! What did Infinite do?! If I wanted to imagine the action scenes all on my own, I’d spend my time daydreaming! What, did they not know what to do here so they just threw in some random lines to fill the gap between this and the next level?!

… Sorry, I got a little carried away. This simple scene frustrates me a lot by not existing. So yeah, we’re throwing in a cutscene.

(I just noticed how salty this post is getting. This was not my intention at all, I still love this game, oh dear…)

Shadow reaches the edge of the city and encounters a dark silhouette hovering just above the flames that cover the ground; there’s debris scattered everywhere. The figure has its back turned, and the world seems to glitch ever so slightly around them.

‘The world’s most powerful robot is no more a challenge than crabmeat. Even the Doctor’s most daring designs can’t compete with my power… It is without peer,’ the figure chuckles to themselves.

Shadow starts approaching silently, analysing the situation. Despite this being Omega’s location, he can’t see the robot.

‘Wonder how easy it would be to end this entire planet. Don’t you…’

Suddenly, the voice speaks close to the hedgehog’s ear:

‘…Shadow?’

He turns around to see that the unknown person has appeared behind him, which throws him off. The hedgehog takes several steps back and puts himself in a fighting stance.

It’s hard to see past the jackal’s mask, but he seems amused as he looks down on Shadow. Twistedly so.

‘How wonderful to see that our not-so-tall, dark and brooding guest has arrived. I’ve been waiting for you, Shadow~’

‘Tell me what you did to Omega. Now,’ the agent demands.

‘Oh, come now, Shadow. Our long-awaited reunion and still you spout such nonsense.’ Infinite floats down to stand a few meters away from his enemy.

‘I don’t know you,’ Shadow states. The masked jackal tilts his head, but doesn’t say anything, so he asks again, ‘what have you done to Omega?’

‘Only what is ought to be done when someone stands in your way. Weaklings like E-123 Omega are of no consequence, don’t you agree?’

‘The only thing of no consequence is that big mouth of yours.’

Shadow launches himself at Infinite, who easily avoids his attack. The jackal starts laughing manically.

‘Ah, I suppose you would think so,’ he states. ‘After all, it’s not so funny to be the one losing the battle, is it? I am Infinite. You say you do not know me, and yet I remember you so very well… I’ve lost all I was, I’ve become what I am because of you. Savour that thought as I return the favour.’

Guess what happens? That’s right, we get another boss battle! I think it’s only fair that Infinite gets to have his rematch with Shadow. Besides, it establishes a comparison with the “old” Infinite and how much stronger he’s now – from Shadow’s perspective, that is.

I have no idea how this battle would play out. Maybe something similar to his second battle in the main story (no, don’t worry: we’ll talk about the exceeding amount of Infinite battles in the next part), with the 2D layout. Let’s say Infinite is surrounded with his Red Cubes of Doom while he’s not attacking, so you can’t touch him. Maybe he makes the fire glitch and get closer to you at some point. Maybe he makes clones and you have to defeat each of them to get to the real guy, I don’t know! Tag your ideas, I’d love to see them! ^^

Anyway, once the battle’s over and Shadow “wins” (because Infinite is not defeated, he’s just done with this fight), the jackal might say something in the lines of “I suppose I’ve let this duel go on for long enough. I have other matters to attend to, Shadow the Hedgehog.”

We get back to the cutscene and Infinite is glitching a bit, quickly recomposing himself, laughing. Shadow is panting.

‘What’s the matter, Shadow? Can’t take down a measly jackal anymore?’ The masked one says sarcastically. ‘It seems like I’ve overestimated your strength. You’re no fit to be a mercenary at all.’

There’s a beat and Shadow realises what this is about. He looks at Infinite, frowning. ‘It’s you… Defence Squad Jackal…’

Infinite stares at the hedgehog. He doesn’t seem to be as amused anymore. His golden eye’s glowing under his mask, and so is the Phantom Ruby on his chest. A tense background music plays as Infinite answers dryly:

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve spared you, but now you’re going too far. It’s time to finish this! Chaos Spear!’

The spears of light simply go through Infinite as if they didn’t exist. Shadow goes for a spin dash/homing attack/kick to the face or whatever you can think of, but the masked villain glitches out of the way with ease and lands an almost perfect copy of Shadow’s roundhouse kick.

The hedgehog glides across the floor, almost falling over. Infinite scoffs.

‘This new “me” has limitless power. I have no mercy; no weakness! I am the true ultimate force that will tear this world apart, and what may have worked to bring me down before…’ the jackal starts floating again; thousands of red cubes start dancing around him and, as he raises a hand, they all group in the sky not far above them. ‘… No longer does.’

(Why yes, this is a reference to Mephiles the Dark and that time he destroyed the Sceptre of Darkness!)

Infinite throws his “Take THIS!” and Shadow does the “!” – which is him frantically trying to get out of the way as the thousands cubes of doom come crashing down on him.

The screen goes black.

Scene ends.

The Virtual Reality level should play as usual from there. I don’t even want to change the background dialogue, because I really like it: it’s confusing, it’s weird, it’s unsettling and it slaps Shadow in the face in a way that we rarely see. I love it! (Although, I do think the gameplay should have a tiny little bit more of 3D parts. We love Green Hill, but we also love the freedom to move on more than two directions when playing as the Ultimate Life Form. But it’s cool)

After that, we could get another cutscene (we’re full of cutscenes, huh? Well, this is a hypothetical rewriting with a hypothetical budget. Also, Episode Shadow is more of an exposition episode anyway). In this cutscene, we would start with some shots of different known locations: Green Hill, Chemical Plant, Crisis City, Mystic Jungle, Kingdom Valley, Babylon Garden, you name it! And all of these places are somewhat “corrupted”; they’re glitching out, full of those red cubes, and there’s just this ominous atmosphere in them, as if they’re abandoned, desolated despite looking roughly the same as ever. We then see a black-and-red blur cross the screen, and a short narration takes place:

“I’ve been here for longer than I can remember. This… alternate reality, this fake world. There seems to be no escape. Rouge and Omega talk to me occasionally…”

We see Shadow leaning against a wall. His communicator plays only white noise, then Rouge’s voice comes in; it’s strangely echoed as it calls out to him. Shadow throws the device far away and sighs.

“… They’re fake too. No matter where I go, no matter how much I run…”

Shadow is skating through Pumpkin Hill or something, when the world suddenly starts to glitch out massively; we hear the Phantom Ruby’s noise and suddenly, we’re on the ARK.

“It’s like this place was made to torture me. Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.”

‘I’ve moved on from this a long time ago,’ Shadow says to the void of the Universe as we hear gunshots in the distance. He’s not being completely truthful. ‘Putting me through this scenario dozens of times changes nothing. Don’t you have anything more creative at this point?’

There’s silence, except for the shouts in the Space Colony. A voice calls out to Shadow, and he promptly ignores it, albeit with a pained look in his eyes. He’s visibly tired, almost hopeless, if one could ever describe Shadow the Hedgehog that way.

He sighs.

‘Alright, how do I get out of this one?”

We then get a start of a short level in the ARK. Don’t worry, it’s not one of those hellish mazes that usually haunt every ARK level there ever was; this is more straight forward, with doors closing all around you so that you know where you shouldn’t go, and some G.U.N. robots trying to kill you, simple thing.

The catch happens when you’re halfway through the level: as you’re crossing a long corridor, the game begins to “crash” – in the sense of you losing control of the character, the visuals beginning to glitch and the soundtrack going weird, all in a way that makes the soul leave the body of the player for a terrifying four seconds of “HOLY SHIT, I BROKE THE GAME”. But nope, you didn’t break the game: the Phantom Ruby is trolling you. We soon find that out as the signature noise plays and the glitching effect on screen disperses to show a new scenario: Mystic Jungle. The real Mystic Jungle. Congratulations: you get to play in a totally different zone for the rest of the level.

‘My head…’ Shadow murmurs to himself. ‘That was too quick; this can’t be right, it- ugh, why is it so bright here? Where are all the red things? This place seems too normal… is it… am I back in the real world?!’

We then finish the level, get our nice score and head to the last scene of the episode.

Shadow is going through the jungle, taking in everything that isn’t an illusion. He passes by a red sword stuck to the ground and leans against a tree, still a little out of it, still struggling to believe that anything is real anymore. The hedgehog then takes his communicator – surprisingly intact; hadn’t he thrown that away? – and tries to make contact. There is static for a moment, when suddenly…

‘Shadow? Oh my- Shadow, is that you?!’

He’s startled for a moment, but so relieved to hear Rouge’s normal voice again.

‘It’s me, Rouge. What’s the situation? Where’s Omega?’

‘Omega? We lost contact with him months ago; the Resistance says he must have been shut down after the Doctor took over!’

Shadow raises both his non-existing eyebrows in surprise, barely holding a gasp. He then frowns.

‘Shut down? Resistance? What do you mean “the Doctor took over”? What the heck happened?’

‘What happened? What happened?! I should be the one asking you that! You’ve been offline for six months! Everyone keeps saying you’re working with Eggman and Infinite, and I couldn’t contact you or Omega, I thought… I thought we’d lost you for good…’

‘Nonsense,’ Shadow states. We start hearing voices in the distance, and the hedgehog starts looking around while still talking ‘I’ll tell you the details later, it’s long story. What’s the current situation?’

‘Shadow…’

The (Tired) Ultimate Life Form spots something from behind the trees. Still in hiding, he looks closer only to see the Custom Hero holding the prototype Phantom Ruby they just found and talking to Tails and… Classic Sonic, much to Shadow’s confusion.

‘… We’re at war.’

Shadow takes a moment to process what’s just been said. He doesn’t even pay attention to what Rouge says next (neither do we, as the background music starts getting louder than the bat’s voice). He still watches the avatar, Tails and Classic Sonic as they leave; he focuses on the Phantom Ruby.

‘Meet me in the City. I’ve got a lot to tell you,’ Shadow says.

And with that, he leaves, the scene fades out and Episode Shadow is over!

*”The Light of Hope: Menu Version” plays in the background*

Now, a few more analytical notes before we close this ridiculously gigantic thing:

The immediate reason why we have Shadow being stuck in the Virtual Reality for six months is to indicate to us why he doesn’t show up earlier in the main game. It’s not like he was being useless this whole time and just decided to show up whenever it was most Ex-Machina of him; much like Sonic, he was trapped by the enemy. A mental trap that put Shadow on survivor mode for months without any way of communicating with anybody; with twisted versions of his friends trying to get to him and remind him that, hey, they’re still out there, probably in high danger; with these illusions mocking him, reminding him of painful memories, isolating him in familiar places… I say: if you want to emotionally hit a character, hit them hard. And this experience is bound to leave Shadow with some emotional scar, alright.

(Ever heard of conveniently coming out of nowhere?)

Shadow is bound to lose his sense of reality and sometimes it should be hard for him to acknowledge that this is the real world. I hope I can showcase some of his reactions in the later parts of this o3o

The Virtual Reality isn’t all glitchy by mistake. No, no: Infinite is perfectly capable of making a “perfect copy” of the real world, but he doesn’t want to. He wants Shadow to know this is a fake world and to know that he’s completely trapped in it while his real friends and allies are out there doing who-knows-what in a world run by the enemy. He wants to throw Shadow off-balance as much as he can, because he’s spiteful and doesn’t just leave the hedgehog to the side without a second glance.

In the game, Infinite says that they didn’t really have time to tune his power yet, so we can tell putting Shadow in the Virtual Reality was more of a practice of sorts. But man, I think this is too much of a cool concept, so I’ll say Infinite did put his power to the test before all of this; because Eggman, sir: you don’t simply throw your super-secret, amazing, unparalleled weapon in the battlefield without testing it first. This is something that can be inferred, it doesn’t need to be directly told, it just- I’m telling you this right now, ok?

I know Shadow is supposedly “over” this conflict with what happened in the ARK and it probably feels over-used to add it in again, but… it’s a thing the games haven’t tackled in such a long time, I feel like this would be a nice call-back. Besides, Infinite would want to know what would bring distress to Shadow; what happened in the ARK isn’t exactly a secret, especially if he’s working with Eggman. And Shadow can be as “over it” as he wants: it’s still a scar that will never truly leave him. Even if he watches it happen dozens of times, it’s still at least a little bit of an emotional rollercoaster.

ALTHOUGH! I also think this ARK level could be easily replaced with some other random level if you want to argue that Forces happens in Mobius or something, where Gerald and Maria and G.U.N. maybe never existed and whatnot.

What brought Shadow back, you ask? Well, it probably has to do with a certain someone spontaneously activating a Phantom Ruby. Maybe the avatar was thinking of Shadow and how it’d be nice to have him on their side again? Maybe they were thinking of undoing Infinite’s evil deeds? Maybe the raw power of the Phantom Ruby prototype being suddenly activated by the Custom Hero just crashed something another Phantom Ruby user did, like magnetic waves interfering with each other? Who knows?

I also find it important to show the Custom Hero here not only to show that there’s a connection between Shadow’s sudden freedom and their actions, but also to establish the tiniest amount of early familiarity between Shadow and the original character. Then maybe (maybe) I’ll give them a bit more of interaction in the main game, because it’d be nice to have a cool interaction with Shadow; and as endearing as his smile after the avatar does their thing with the sun of destruction is, it feels like it comes out of nowhere, if you think about it…

(I mean... Does he even know who we are?)

Infinite’s sword stuck to the ground goes completely over Shadow’s head, as he has no idea what that is or who it belonged to or what it means. It’s really just there for the viewer to reminisce the beginning of the episode and have a slight existential crisis.

When playing the main campaign, we get some pretty convenient information from Shadow once he finally shows up. Episode Shadow should give us a sense of how he knows those things. Want it or not, he did spend a long time studying the Phantom Ruby’s power far more closely than anybody else – well, maybe Sonic spent almost as much time as Shadow in a similar state, but that’s something to cover in another part.

The fact that Shadow is the one narrating this entire episode is supposed to allude to him telling Rouge exactly what happened during those six months he was gone. But if you want to read it as him talking to himself in the Virtual Reality as he slowly descends into madness, then be my guest!

I don’t know if it’s noticeable, but I’ve tried to tune Infinite’s cheesiness down a bit. I don’t think I can rid him of it entirely – after all, he is somewhat of a pompous, edgy, over-the-top character in general; he’s a full-on drama queen 24/7 and the only character cheesier than him is Sonic. Now, what we do with Infinite is to at least give a base to what he says. Also, I wanted him to sound a bit more like he lets the power get to his head. Oh well, I surely hope we’ll be tackling more of Infinite in the future!

Episode Shadow is extremely short, even for a DLC. I mean, it’s about only 20 minutes long – even less, if you’re good at it! With the addition of the cutscenes, the small changes, the boss fights against Squad Jackal and Infinite, and the added levels, the episode shouldn’t get overwhelmingly longer, but longer enough for it to feel more satisfying!

And with that, we’re done! I hope you enjoyed this massive thing. Despite me really liking Sonic Forces, I do think a few things could be improved. It’s not like it will happen, but rewriting is a lot of fun!

And why, no: I don’t take myself seriously.

#Sonic Forces #Episode Shadow #Sonic the Hedgehog #Infinite #Shadow #Rewrite #Headcanon #Character Analysis #Word count: why do I even bother?#phew that was a lot #I'm so tired

27 notes · View notes