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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Fake Sith TCW Trio

I have another fucked up time-travel AU! Who’s surprised? (Nobody.)

So like. Have you guys read that one fic where Luke and his students go back in time and pretend to be Sith Lords and are super hammy about it? (Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight)

This AU has contributions by @atagotiak, @the-lunar-system, @purronronner, @gelpenss, @creepingthroughthistidalwave, and @thisarenotarealblog.

I want TCW trio (plus Rex and Cody) to go back to several years pre-TPM and, since the Council DEFINITELY won't believe them about the Sith being back... they'll force the issue.

Anakin is weirdly excited about things and building up their backstory.

Anakin: Okay so I can definitely be a Maul type, with the unhinged ranting and manic laughter, Obi-Wan can be the whole Refined Rich Guy type like Dooku, where you can't even tell he's evil until he starts talking about getting out the eyeball scoops, maybe toss in a bit of mad science stuff? Ahsoka could play up like Ventress OR, oh oh, she can be the Light Side Child we need to PROTECT who's publicly begging us to return to the Light after our big dramatic Falls where we murdered like eighty people to save her, and-- Obi-Wan: Why are you never this enthusiastic about actual undercover missions. Ahsoka: Did you just have all this ready to go, or...? Anakin: WE COULD GET YELLOW CONTACT LENSES FOR ME.

Obi-Wan: How's my evil laugh?

Anakin going “Okay.. so if any of us need to murder someone to sell the bit it should be me, I think I could handle it the best. Why? No reason.”

Obi-Wan: I'm not sure a complete Fall could come from protecting Ahsoka, really-- Anakin: No, no, it could.

Obi-Wan: Surely you’d hold back because you realize neither of us want that for you. Anakin: Uh. Sure. Definitely.

Obi-Wan points out that none of them can channel the dark side to Prove they're Sith and Anakin just goes "Okay, give me like two seconds to stew in my negativity and--right, you can stop staring in horror, please."

Anakin rambles on that they can TOTALLY make the galaxy a better place while playing at being Sith! He's got a whole LIST of slave empires to "take over" and disassemble!

Anakin has a whole excited spiel about how EVIL soldiers and assistants are minions, in this case partly because Cody and Rex are too good at what they do to be mooks. Cody could pull off evil minion very well. Facial scar? Looks good in black? Quietly competent and sarcastic?

He also pushes for Obi-Wan to lounge in a fancy throne with a glass of wine while Anakin stalks the shadows and Ahsoka hangs out on the window ledge. The disaster lineage is dramatic, okay, Anakin’s just leaning into it, he’d appreciate it if everyone stopped looking at him like that.

Qui-Gon, surprisingly, ends up a skeptic about all of this. Everyone is freaking out about the Sith and he’s like “y’know I’m not even sure they’re darksiders.”

Some Jedi, possibly Qui-Gon for his conspiracy board, gets in a real risky situation and one of the Fake Sith saves them, but also panics and kinda drops character for a bit.

Jedi: You saved me! Why’d you do that? Anakin: I uh... just wanted the pleasure of killing you myself?

"You saved me. Why?" "Mmmm. Jedi." [walks away]

Qui-Gon: [trying to figure out what is up with these people semi-competently (from his perspective) pretending to be Sith] Dooku: [trying to protect Qui-Gon from Sith influence]

The gang is the most successful at pretending to be Sith to Dooku. Sure, they’re not gonna punish him for something he hasn’t done, but it’s not hard to act menacing and angry around him.

(They really do have so much fun irritating the heck out of Dooku. He hasn’t Fallen yet, but they want to keep an eye out.)

At some point, future Obi-Wan definitely drops that little tidbit of "What, you didn't think the Banites were the only Sith running around did you? You... didn't even know about the Banites. How... disappointing."

They REGULARLY use Ahsoka as an excuse to be marginally less terrible. They claim that if Ahsoka pouts, they stop. ‘Soka also uses them as an excuse for why she’s a lil feral. (To be fair, that one is accurate. She was already a lil feral before but it’s not like they did anything to stop it.) Ahsoka gets her "breaking into people's offices" jollies by bugging Nute Gunray's office.

The Jedi keep trying to Rescue Ahsoka.

Rex and Cody end up in real beskar, there's a whole Thing with Mandalore and Jango and Satine.

Obi-Wan is CONSISTENTLY worried about Anakin Falling for real, which... hey, at least he knows to be worried about Anakin Falling. Step up from canon, really.

Anakin is WAY too into killing the Hutts but like. It does... technically sell the bit.

Obi-Wan: Sure, I’m not sad that they’re dead, especially because we’re not connected to the Republic, so we don’t need to worry about starting a war and all that. But. Anakin is disturbingly cheerful about this. Rex: Wasn't he a Hutt slave? Obi-Wan: Well yes, but-- Rex: I'd kill Nala Se if I could get away with it.

Cody and Rex are very supportive of Anakin's murderous intentions.

Obi-Wan does understand anger, even killing someone in anger. Like Maul (the first time at least) and D’nar and a few others. All the same, like... y’know. The level of bloodthirst from the others is a little off-putting.

At one point, Anakin accidentally addresses young Obi-Wan by name, despite never having met before, and to cover it up, he... panic-flirts. He panics, and so he flirts, with young Obi-Wan.

(He will later blame this on old Obi-Wan, because he had to pick up the habit of flirting with the enemy from somewhere.)

Anakin vaguely implies that he's a wee bit obsessed with young Obi, and that the padawan should "get used to being the target of a dark-sider's interests," because he’s scrambling for Ominous Shit and, well, future Obi-Wan was pretty frequently a fixation point for darksiders, right?

The second he gets out, he just starts screaming into a bucket while Rex pats him on the back.

For the next however many terrible months, possibly years, he has to keep up the act while having an ongoing meltdown about how That's My Dad As A Twenty-Something.

(It doesn't help that young Obi-Wan reflexively flirted back.)

Old Obi-Wan, meanwhile, is just very "you dug this hole yourself, padawan."

There is an argument at the beginning about Obi-Wan’s outfit. If he’s gonna be a Sith, he can’t just go around in beige, but he’s like “I like this and it’s comfy.” Sure, he’s changed clothes for undercover stuff, but that’s always been temporary, y’know? He likes his beige.

We have a number of options.

My first instinct? Beige linen three piece suit, like a southern lawyer. "Now I may just be a simple Outer Rim force adept--"

And, of course, you can TOTALLY make the beige sinister: he’s impersonating a Jedi! Jedi impersonation would also explain why nobody has a red saber.

“Sure is good that the Jedi don’t seem to realize most of the galaxy doesn’t know red sabers are different and bad.” “Shhhh, stop poking holes in our story where a Jedi might overhear.”

Like.... if you do enough doublethink, it works! How would a Sith hide? In plain sight. Also, it’s a GREAT way (if they were actually assholes) to try to slander the Jedi name.

(Anakin and Ahsoka still think he could stand to put a little more effort in. Add a splash of color, for pity's sake!)

Though tbh part of me is like “What if Old Obi wore, like... a split skirt suit...” Victorian womenswear inspired because he misses his robes, but he has to look Professional, and like he's MOCKING Jedi instead of BEING one, so he wears a vintage-y split skirt thing over his leggings. Ends up looking a lot like what Ventress had for a while, but Beige. I also keep wanting to put him regency menswear.

Anyway. Obi-Wan’s wardrobe aside...

Anakin builds up his Tatoo accent again. It helps him with the (mostly true) "slavery helped me fall" backstory.

Either Cody or Rex offhandedly mentions being made to serve them (the Fake Sith) and now the Jedi are somewhat concerned about brainwashing. Are these Mandos the victims here?

“No like. Literally made for this. In a lab.” This is even more horrifying. So...

On the one hand good! The Jedi should be scared about Sith! On the other hand... it makes the Jedi more determined to stop them, specifically. They keep on getting in the way, just, all the time, and they’re not investigating the actual Sith problem, which is decidedly not great since the Team doesn’t actually know who’s a real Sith right now, except Maul, and who even knows where that guy is.

Obi-Wan, at some point: Do you think we've succeeded at this ruse... a little TOO well? Anakin: I don't follow. Obi-Wan, gesturing at the truly obnoxious amount of wealth they've collected, including "trophies" of their kills: Really? Because I'm a little worried! Anakin, planning out a battle to take on Nar Shadda: ...I'm not.

"How many people do we realistically we need to take over Hutt Space? Apparently... five."

(Mostly because Anakin is ridiculously op.)

ANAKIN AND YOUNG OBI GET KIDNAPPED BY PIRATES TOGETHER. It's tradition.

Anakin: Okay, so, I need to get really angry about something to pass as a Sith... time to think about my WIFE and how I'll NEVER SEE HER AGAIN.

Since Anakin’s life never goes as planned... this does not work. Instead of getting properly angry, he makes himself sad. There are tears. There is wailing. There’s a distraught rant or two. Young Obi ends up awkwardly trying to comfort him.

“Oh no, this… Sith?? Is crying on me. What do I do???”

Later on, when the Council wants intel: "So... one of the Sith cried on me about his wife. I think she's dead? He wasn't very clear about it but it, uh... it sounded like it might have contributed to his Fall. Also the relationship was a little unhealthy? He basically worshiped the ground she walked on and kept ranting about how he would have given her the galaxy on a platinum platter of she'd only asked, but that might be new and inspired by the Dark."

One of the random Jedi is REALLY good at detecting the truth Through The Force, and asks Anakin how he Fell...

Anakin just. Tells the Tuskens story.

They don't get pinged as lying, but oh boy does old Obi have a LOT of questions for Anakin once they're in private.

There are other things happening to help sell the ruse. Some of them are necessary! Some of them are... not.

Obi-Wan: What's the best way to show we're rich and kind of evil, but like... classy about it? Anakin, immediately: I sit on the floor next to the throne, leaning against it, and you call me pet names while stroking my hair, and then when you need something killed I get to do it for you and then I go back to the floor and you thank me for the directed violence, and then you go back to Negotiations with criminals while I’m sitting there covered in blood. Obi-Wan: ...is there something you want to TELL us, or...?

"You're all going to get a glimpse of something normally kept hidden about me." "Anakin, you don't have to do that." "No, I'm gonna."

(Anakin has decided hes going to peel his kink tomato to sell this ruse, and the others are slightly uncomfortable with that.)

Anakin: Okay, I cannot keep flirting with you. Young Obi: Wait, what? But that's the best part of any time we run into you! Anakin: You look WAY too much like my Master did when I met him. Obi: O...kay? If someone looked like my master when HE was young, I'd-- Anakin: My Sith Master half-raised me. He's basically my dad. Obi: ... Anakin: What's that look for? Obi: I mean, you spend a lot of time lounging at his feet, and, like, given how much you hate slavery, I... kind of assumed it was a kink thing? Anakin, brightly: Oh no, I just have a LOT of trauma. And neuroses. Snips says they’re neuroses.

Young Obi is a little upset because he was actually getting REALLY into Flirting With The Enemy and was hoping it would go somewhere. He mopes to Qui-Gon about it. Qui-Gon isn't sure whether to be proud about Obi breaking rules, or worried over Obi-Wan falling for a Fake Sith.

(As Tia put it: "You enjoy making young Obi-Wan have a completely unrequited crush on Anakin, don’t you?")

Fortunately, one of those attractive Young Mando boys very kindly helped him tape up his ribs this one time, and has thus caught his eye...

I feel like having Cody date Young Obi would court an entirely different kind of (internet) drama because clone ages, but whatever.

Also please imagine an element of "so I'm dating the genetic identical of my boss... who's dating the man I'm a genetic identical of..."

(It's probably not actually Jangobi but man would that be funny and also stupid.)

Somehow Young Obi figures out that the "Sith Master" is a future him before he realizes that they're not actually dark. In his defense, Anakin was pretty convincing. Especially with the wife rant. It makes HIM more obsessed with Anakin, in a reversal of the implied earlier dynamic, which is all kinds of weird. Less romantic but like. Still weird.

"Future Me Scares Me" with Extra stupid. "Future Me Annoys Me." "Future Me acts like grandmaster Dooku, but more sass." "Future Me raised a really hot evil guy that refuses to bang Present Me." "Future Me might be a Sith, but I'm getting more and more convinced he's just fucking with us all." "Future Me is really rocking that beard, and I can't BELIEVE we figured out a way around the babyface."

"I’m kinda concerned about the whole evil thing, but I’m also glad that I know I’ll stay hot as I get older."

Quinlan approves of the priorities.

Also a lot of interactions with older Obi are very Anakin: [does/says something deeply unhinged] Obi-Wan: So, do you want to…. Talk about that? Maybe? Anakin: What’s there to talk about?? I’m fine, everything’s fine! Anyways how about those plans for tracking down Maul?

Anakin later, like way after the ruse is lifted, just blankly tells everyone that he did Fall, once, and Older Obi made him get therapy about it after the truth came out between the two of them a few months into the Fake Sith thing.

Where'd they find a therapist? I'm sure there's one SOMEWHERE around. Denon and Herdessa are close enough, and they've done enough "your criminal empire now belongs to me" that they can pay well. They make sure to find one that takes confidentiality real seriously.

It's all very "we need some more time to unpack all that."

Therapy helps get Anakin to figure out Sheev’s whole deal. They don't necessarily figure out he’s a Sith from it, but they figure out he’s sketchy and they need to look into that more. Obi-Wan probably already thought he was sketchy, but the whole active gaslighting campaign was a little surprising. They realize that he kinda benefited a lot from a lot of Sith plots and they still probably don’t think he’s a Sith but Obi-Wan is definitely starting to think he’s working with one.

"Okay, we're already bugging Gunray, should we bug Palpatine just to be safe?"

They get away with a lot of slicing because Anakin is a technical genius from twenty years in the future.

The reasons they're so good at Taking Over Hutt Space: 1. They know parts of the future. 2. They have superpowers and FAR less reason to not use them, now that their actions aren't going to reflect on the Republic. 3. They have Cody and Rex, who are two of the greatest military minds in the galaxy, and know EXACTLY how to wage a war that covers a solid third of the galaxy, starting from a position of relative weakness. 4. Anakin's charisma is scary high, and his knowledge of slave culture means they gain a lot of trust from the people they free, and they just... keep acquiring volunteers for the army they didn't plan to have. Obi-Wan doesn't know what to do. He thinks they might have started a cult?

In his defense, Dooku sort of started a cult, and Komari got kidnapped by a cult, brainwashed into joining it properly, and then took it over as head figure of said cult. It's practically tradition!

Comics Vader is the central figure of like three different cults, it was really just inevitable.

Anakin: Aw, don't worry master, it's not a cult, it's a revolution! Ahsoka: They're worshiping him, though. Anakin: ...it's still a revolution! Just... with some misunderstandings.

Also, if they got wind of people trying to keep people from being able to leave and other culty stuff like that, they’d probably put a stop to it pretty damn quick.

Names! Time for names. As per usual, it's easiest to keep track of Obi-Wan's alternate Older Self by just calling him Ben.

Darth Ben.

Ahsoka: You should be Darth Boring. Obi-Wan: I can still make you run laps, you know.

Anakin: The Force is telling me to call myself Darth Vader. Obi-Wan: ...why? Anakin: I dunno, but it sounds cool, I'll run with it.

Someone: Ben has all the answers; we shouldn’t question him, ever. Ben: One time I lost a planet, and a five-year-old found it for me.

More options: Going with the "evil word with the prefix 'in' chopped off" that we get with Sidious and Vader: Darth Surrectus (as in insurrection) Just random Latin words: Darth Temporus (time) Darth Commenticius (fake)

Anyway, back to Nonsense:

Maul goes after young Obi early, because the Fake Sith are really invested in this one random Padawan (Sidious is saying he might be a cousin of the false Sith Master? They do look similar enough) so someone needs to investigate. Naturally, Anakin shows up with some wild screeching to fight Maul, and when someone questions why he got involved it gets very "Kenobi is MINE!" and like. Okay. So.

Anakin means it in a very Sith "to toy with" and "to torture" way, or the ‘my chosen opponent!’ way, just the same kind of Obsession as Maul had with Obi-Wan in the original timeline. Unfortunately, Anakin’s a weird-ass person who flirts with Young Obi against his own better judgement, so there's some awkward "Like... your boyfriend?" from young Obi. Anakin just screeches in SOME emotion that nobody wants to interpret, and couldn't even if they wanted to, and starts whacking away at Maul again.

(Anakin hasn't explained the "you look exactly like my dad, sorry, it's just too weird" thing yet, and he is HAVING MANY REGRETS.)

There's definitely at least one instance where a person asks Anakin if he's planning on dating That One Jedi Twink, or at least banging out the tension. At that point in time, Anakin doesn't actually know who the fuck they're talking about, because "Obi-Wan + Twink = Does Not Compute" for dear, dense Ani, and instead he just ends up ranting about how he is LOYAL TO THE MEMORY OF HIS LATE WIFE, how DARE anyone so much as INSINUATE that he would TARNISH HER PERFECT MEMORY and UNWAVERING KINDNESS and WHOLESOME BEING, and the person who asked doesn't end up lightsabered but they do end up with a LOT to tell whoever they're reporting to.

Young Obi-Wan definitely hears Anakin mutter the phrase “something to discuss with my therapist later” a few times, and he’s a little bewildered because darksiders definitely don’t seem like the type of people to go to therapy. They’re the type of people to need therapy, sure, but not the type to go to therapy.

I think it would be very fun for Young Obi to continue sighing over Anakin (who's pretending to be fine with it and even flirting back because he's in too deep to stop and hasn't worked up the courage to explain the elephant in the room) while Anakin is covered in grease and infodumping while having a slightly manic hyperfocus on engine repairs while the two of them Somehow got stranded together in the middle of bumfuck nowhere (it's Plagueis's doing, he finds the interactions between THESE two in particular to be the most informative regarding the fake Sith).

Anakin, at some point while stranded with young Obi-Wan, and having actually started unpacking some stuff in therapy, though he’s def still got a ways to go: I’m pretty sure Ben cares about me. He acts like he cares, like he’ll do stuff like put extra blankets in my quarters in the spaceship because I get cold real easily or track down those droid parts I need for a project and he always has my back in a fight but y’know it’d be nice to hear him say he loves me once in a while. Especially because we kinda had a rough start and idk I don’t think he wanted me around at first.

And uh. Obi-Wan definitely relates to that a bit too much, y’know?

I want to say that Young Obi ends up mentioning All That to one of the clones or Ahsoka later, because they seem probably invested in Anakin's well-being, even if Ben is, well, a Sith, so Obi-Wan's a little worried the man's affection really is fake, but at least Ahsoka...

(Ironic, given what Anakin's actual eventual Sith would-be-Master was like.)

Young Obi mentions Anakin’s most recent rant to Ahsoka, and she just goes "Wait, is that why Skyguy likes to sit by the throne and get called pet names?" "Uh... I don't... know... but it sounds like all of you have a LOT to unpack there, Miss Apprentice."

Later on: "Master Kenobi, you need to tell Skyguy you love him 'cause apparently he's been having a lot of emotions about you not telling him you care and he's been talking to mini-you about it whenever they get stuck together and--"

Young Obi-Wan is just constantly the "Now we don't have time to unpack all of that" John Mulaney gif. Anakin in particular is a mess, and young Obi-Wan slowly goes from "I want to date that" to "I want to study that" about him.

Obi-Wan gets stuck somewhere with Ben, tries to small talk, gets on the topic of Vader, and spills the drama. He gets an awkward “Thank you for bringing that to my attention.”

It’s followed by a fairly frustrated “I try, but Anakin refuses to communicate his needs to me, and it feels like I’m always falling short.”

At least one member of the group is in therapy, probably all of them, but they’re still using young Obi as a sounding board for all this stuff. On the bright side, this is probably good for impressing the importance of good communication on Obi-Wan.

Good for Obi-Wan! And... whatever Padawan he eventually has.

As for baby Anakin, who is approximately age four, I want to go with "Anakin decides to be his own uncle, and Shmi just rolls with it because fuck it, she’s not a slave anymore, and a Fake Sith is a solid defense against anyone trying to re-enslave them."

[This is a backstory I've had them use before (see here and here).]

Seeing Big Ani and Little Ani in the same space might be what finally pings the "oh shit, that's future me" thing for Obi-Wan... you know, if he’s ever allowed close enough to see Little Ani in the first place.

Little Ani stays with the fake-Sith and is sorta jointly trained by all of them, and young Obi-Wan teaches little 'Soka at the Temple. Ani and 'Soka still end up friends somehow, but it is fairly different.

Every time little Ani addresses Old Obi as "Dad," it's just like ten kinds of awkward. The one time someone tried to explain that Ben wasn't his new dad, Shmi glared them down. She is of the opinion that, all the gods be damned, Ani deserves to refer to the most mature man in his life, who raised another him in another timeline already, as a father.

Ani doesn't NEED a father, Shmi herself is more than enough, but he does deserve to have this if he wants it.

An alternative conclusion to the time travel is uh. So the Mandalorians are genetically identical (give or take a hair gene) and really resemble Jango Fett, though whether anyone notices that is up in the air. Then the three ‘Sith’ (two fake Sith and their morality chain tag-along) have three younger, identical copies show up….

It could be really weird cloning shenanigans. Now, it makes no sense that they’d make clones, and stagger their production like that, and leave them as babies on various planets for Jedi to find. IDK what reasons Obi-Wan would come up with for that, but it’s a fun little detour before he gets to time travel.

There's a really painful moment (for the audience, who know about canon Vader) where someone tries to convince Ahsoka to leave the Sith and she's just like "no way, they'd never hurt me!” Then she clarifies that “someone has to keep them from doing stupid Sith shit whenever they get bored, you know?"

A bunch of Jedi probably think she’s delusional, but the few that have seen her get into trouble that is legitimately too much for her, which isn't often, have then seen Anakin show up like the devil himself to save her, and it's like. Oh. This is why she isn't scared of them hurting her.

We’ve discussed how Anakin does get concerningly in character with the fake Sith thing. However, Anakin and Ahsoka are, just once in a while, surprised by how Ben gets sometimes when playing the bad guy.

After all, he stabbed a dude with a fork and threatened to eat him during his time as Hardeen…

He has the same dramatic streak as all the rest of the lineage. He can be vindictive and creepy and scary as fuck.

HOWEVER:

Obi-Wan: I know I'm supposed to be playing at evil right now, but how do we feel about me making that evil a little... fruity? Ahsoka: Fruity, master? Anakin, who knows where this is going: [buries face in hands] Obi-Wan: You know, the... [limp wrist] Ahsoka: ... Obi-Wan: I mean, I'm already bisexual and well-groomed, I can play it up.

What’s the point of being evil if you can’t be flamboyant?

Anyway, I had to put in a lot of thought for what to do with Rex and Cody, because there's a solid place for them in terms of strategy, but it doesn't do much to give them independent narrative arcs, and 'young Obi-Wan has a crush' isn't much of an arc, you know?

So, basic info first: Cody, Rex, and Anakin all hold the rank of General in this AU because, like... who else is gonna. Ahsoka remains a commander because everyone declares her Baby, and also to keep up the "I'm a morality chain" ruse.

Cody maintains a very stern and unyielding public persona, but the second they're behind closed doors, he's roughhousing with his little brother.

Rex has some fun pretending to be a sadist whenever he and Anakin have to team up, because hamming it up as an evil bastard in front of Jedi is actually really fun... but usually, he's a competent fucking professional.

Because here's the thing: someone has to be.

They both kind of hate the army they've gotten, because these people don't even have proper trigger discipline, let alone any actual discipline.

This army? Tragic. They hate it. Give them the clones.

They have to be drill sergeants for months before they have anything worth sending onto the field.

I think that might be how/when they end up reaching out to Jango. Like, the first inroad is absolutely "we're your clones from the future and you were a Shit Dad so you owe us," but then they actually talk him around into letting the Fake Sith hire him. He brings along all the Mandalorians he can get to answer his calls, and on suggestion from Those Mando Twins, joins the army Ben doesn't even want.

Darth Boring doesn't want an army! Unfortunately, Cody thinks that's stupid as hell, and is overruling Ben so they can actually work on this 'cleaning up the galaxy of slavery' thing with actual resources.

Cody and Rex are super competent, and it shows in their horrified disdain for the state of their troops.

Rex: Fucking natborns. Anyone who isn't in the know: What's a natborn? Rex: [leaves without answering] People: WHAT'S A NATBORN???

(I'm assuming that the word smush is harder to parse in Basic.)

I think young Obi-Wan's new crush on Cody should also be unrequited. Cody's just like... bemused. Very "Okay, then, that sure is an Affection you've decided on."

Cody and Anakin both: Sorry, it’d just be too weird. Obi-Wan: Why would it be too weird? Cody and Anakin: Reasons.

Rex has to deal with the "whyyyyy" from both his brother and his (former?) General.

Young Obi-Wan just likes cute boys that fight good! Is that so wrong???

Ahsoka: So since we're not officially Jedi anymore-- Obi-Wan: We're still Je-- Ahsoka: Can we date? Can I date now? I want to date someone before we go back to the Code. It's a classic life experience for most teenage girls, and I want to Have That Experience before we're back at the Temple. Obi-Wan: You're not... you can date, Ahsoka, that's not actually banned by the Code. I mean, you'd have to keep it casual, but-- Ahsoka: I CAN DATE!!!

(Great priorities, Ahsoka.)

An idea I'm toying with is that one of the clones ends up Legally Engaged to Satine for political reasons, and young Obi-Wan is just like ???? because not only can he not date the hot boys, but one of said hot boys has become Mr. Steal Yo Girl.

Young Obi-Wan is suffering, and Quinlan is the worst friend ever because Quinlan is laughing at him.

There is obviously the question of

"How would Satine ever end up agreeing to that, given what their public personas are like and all that? She puts duty ahead of personal feelings but all indications are that it’s a terrible decision both ways." (as stated by Tia)

Which, yes, I forgot to actually say that I was imagining Jango had declared "those twins" his heirs after telling people they were his younger* cousins. Because reasons.

* Jango is about 27 when they land in the past, and I’m going to say the accelerated aging ended after hitting physically twenty because no, I don’t want to deal with that. As far as anyone knows, Cody and Rex are about five years younger than Jango. They’re less than year apart, which isn’t very visible, and most people assume they’re identical twins (except Rex’s hair), and that Cody just looks slightly older because of the scar.

Darth Boring had convinced Satine that the way to keeping Mandalore peaceful was to work with Jango (because Darth Boring, which is not his actual title but it is what Ahsoka insists on calling him in private, has a vested interest in keeping Mandalore and all interested parties calm), and he... maybe accidentally set up a political marriage between her and one of the clones.

It wasn't on purpose! Satine never married in his timeline, okay, he didn't expect her to ever get married here, either! He didn't even suggest it! This just happened!

(I want to say that Cody would be more competent at having a political marriage? But IDK.)

Do I do the Satine thing? It has potential, but also it's a bit of a cop-out. Do I have Cody be a diplomatic representative for their pseudo-Sith empire? He could be, but I think he'd hate it. Do I have Rex date one the Chaos Entities (Anakin or Ahsoka), or is that too repetitive with my other works? THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH GOING ON.

Part of me wants Quinlan to get a crush on Cody, and the crush gets bigger specifically in response to the fact that Cody refuses to take him seriously and/or just doesn't give him the time of day.

Based on their one interaction in TCW, they probably let get along ok. Cody maybe likes him back, buuuuuuut internally he's just a little "you were tolerable at almost-forty; early twenties you is obnoxious."

Just imagine the absolutely puppyish attempts at gaining approval and Impressing The Hot Mando General. Quinlan keeps having vague daydreams of seducing someone to the side of the Light. He really leans into the bodice ripper fantasies of saving someone evil with the power of love! (And also the power of really good sex.)

Bant looks at Quin and Obi and wants to throw them both into the nearest pond because they're idiots, but on this topic they are the same flavor of idiot. She considers calling up Reeft and Garen to help her knock some sense into them.

Quinlan: Can I volunteer to go undercover to the Sith? The Council: No. Quinlan: ...what if I-- The Council: No.

Tholme tries to get Qui-Gon to commiserate over their Padawans getting obsessed with Hot Sith Boys, but Qui-Gon just finds the whole thing funny. He knows from the chats he has with Ben that Anakin feels so completely, utterly, incredibly awkward about all of this.

(Ben continues to hold to "Anakin brought this on himself.")

(Ben also “kidnaps” Qui-Gon a lot.)

Also, hey, at least Quinlan isn’t actually into hot Sith boys! He’s into hot Sith minions which is... probably a step up. At least Cody’s not a Sith himself!

It's a step in some direction but Tholme has no idea which one.

(Quinlan sees Cody in dress uniform once and just keeps the mental image for Ages. It’s in his dreams. Sometimes said dreams overflow to Tholme via Force Mind Magic and Quinlan wakes up to someone smacking his face with a pillow.)

Arguably, Quin's also a lot more romantic about his crush than Obi-Wan is, in this case. Quinlan: I want to save him... Obi-Wan: Hey, hey, cute boy. Look at me. Let’s bang.

Cody: There are currently two future Jedi generals having some form of absurd romantic fixation in my direction. I don't know how to feel about this. Rex: Bed them. Cody: ...I'm not saying that's not eventually an option, but one of them is the younger Kenobi, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that. Rex: Pat him on the head like a tooka and then bed his friend, it'll be funny.

I think the Quinlan thing and also general exasperation of leading an absolutely useless army can function pretty solidly as the basis for Cody, but I have another idea for Rex now.

Komari is currently brainwashed in a cult, yes? So.

I keep bouncing around back and forth on what to do with Rex, but part of me suddenly really likes the idea of, after Team Fake Sith finds and dissolves the cult (as one does), and takes Komari into custody (because she's dangerous and deeply unwell), Rex kind of ends up her touchstone to being a decent person. He’s not a morality chain, and it’s not really a redeemed-through-love thing, just This Is A Solid Dude who doesn't pity her or thinks she's irredeemable (however you choose to define such a thing), but actually relates to the kind of conditions living like that can involve, and just kind of...

I don’t know. I think Rex's arc in this AU could be very heavily grounded in something to the effect of "You're not the worst darksider I've met. You're not the only person who was in a cult. You're not even the only former Jedi I know that's committed awful, horrible crimes. My question is just this: What are you going to do moving forward?"

Later Anakin: Wait, who do we know that was in a cult? Rex: What did you think Kamino was?

(Rex isn't as chill as he'd like her to think, but he's trying, and she's fairly reliant on the Force to understand emotions, and is currently in nullifying cuffs, so he can bluff.)

Komari needs someone solid and dependable to rely on for at least conversation, and I think Rex needs to feel needed.

I’m not sure if it’d be romance or friendship, but I think there's a solid basis to work with, potentially.

Per Tia:

One thing about Rex and shipping is like. If you want to do Rexwalker again that's fine, but if you're worried about repetitiveness but still want to like. Ship him in a non-political-convenience way. Rexsoka here actually would be different than your other stuff.

I'm trying to figure out if I can make it work because Ahsoka thematically fits very much into a little sister shaped hole here? She feels younger than in other works, despite not actually being younger than she is in, say, Commander Buir. In those other fics, she has some time alone to function and prove herself independently of Anakin and Obi-Wan.

I usually pluck Ahsoka out at sixteen if I'm pulling her from TCW, so she's got most of her competence but hasn't gotten quite all the trauma yet. Commander Buir, in particular, also has baby-shaped Anakin for contrast.

That said, I can see a decent source of narrative conflict in her wanting to experiment with romance and all that, and Anakin trying to tell her she's too young.

A year into this whole time-travel mess, she wants to give the dating thing a shot, and it spirals into "You were only two years older than me when you got married!"

I think I could build a plot out of Ahsoka wanting to do these things, and Anakin as an audience insert not quite processing that she's old enough to make these decisions. If she's choosing to date Rex, whose age works out as being close to hers when one takes into account Kamino fuckery, and whom she trusts absolutely, it’s arguably extra weird for Anakin to be upset with it.

"Senator Amidala was five years older than you, and you married her when you were nineteen and had only really known her for a week! I can go on a date with a guy we both know is one of the most trustworthy people alive if I want, Skyguy!"

I can definitely see Ahsoka getting annoyed with Anakin being overbearing and controlling at some point before that unrelated to romance, too. It’s not exactly a new fault of his.

My god, just imagine someone snidely asking Anakin "where's your little shadow?" and Anakin, being Himself and also a Fake Sith, has an emotional breakdown about how Ahsoka yelled at him for micromanaging her and not trusting her to make her own decisions in life and so she got herself a multi-month solo mission from Ben that Anakin isn't allowed to know any details about, and--

It's another one of those "oh, you have PROBLEMS problems with your mental health" incidents for the Jedi to add to the file, because Anakin having emotionally charged rants about his issues at seemingly terrible times is how they get a lot of information.

Some of the rants are planned.

Many of them, actually.

They want the Jedi to know these things.

Just, well. Anakin.

He really is a little Like That.

On that note, I'm low-key imagining that Anakin gets put on mood stabilizers by the therapist in this context, and he's doing good! He's handling his issues! He's--been captured with Obi-Wan the Younger again and his medication was confiscated.

Anakin is... not great. He's a little out of practice managing his unmedicated self, and when adding withdrawal symptoms onto that... poor Anakin.

(Poor Obi-Wan.)

I think it would be best if Anakin makes a bunch of ominous blustery comments at their captors about how they won't like what's coming to them if they take his belongings (AKA the fanny pack that has his backup pills), and then Obi-Wan just gets to watch Anakin get more and more erratic, because like. Yes, Anakin is using the Force to compensate, but unfortunately he's mostly cut off, and the stress of the situation is pushing him away from depression and into the beginnings of a manic episode.

Anakin is aware of his issues to the point where he's mostly managing, and he keeps asking Obi-Wan "would it make sense for me to [slightly deranged, very impulsive action]," and Obi-Wan realizes he's being the morality sounding board for the Hot Sith because ??? reasons?????

Eventually, Anakin does flop back in bed and dramatically throws his arm over his eyes, and says he needs his meds back, he's absolutely going to lose it, and Obi-Wan tentatively asks what kind of medication. There are levels to worry about. Mild allergy medication is one thing, but heart medication that needs to be taken every four hours is another, you know? He wants to know how much panic is appropriate.

Anakin lets him know that it's Psychiatric In Nature. Obi-Wan suddenly realizes that he really, really, really doesn't want to know what a properly erratic, unmedicated Anakin is like.

(An unmedicated Anakin really isn't nearly as bad as Obi-Wan fears. Anakin's been dealing with this for a while, and knows what his issues are and some of how to deal with them. He'd need to be running on no sleep and higher levels of stress, or to have been drugged with something meant to increase his aggression, to really lose his shit and do something worthy of Vader. RotS levels of stress and sleep deprivation is required to pull RotS levels of manic paranoid delusion.)

Tia asked:

How long does it take the Jedi in general to catch on to how like. They have opportunities. But these Sith never seem to harm any Jedi. And it’s not just like, the past timeline parts of the disaster lineage. They probably get opportunities to hurt other Jedi. Ones that are less skilled at saber work. And more importantly ones that they don’t seem weirdly interested in."

I'm not sure, really. The Jedi don't spend as much time in the Outer Rim as they could, and that's where the Team operates, so actually running into them by accident is unlikely for anyone other than Shadows.

Fortunately, it's really easy to toy with Shadows with the excuse of "I want to see how long it takes before you Fall with us."

I do want like... okay. Here’s the mental image:

Qui-Gon calls them out on being Fake Sith pretty quickly, so Ben just sort of eyes him, dramatically, and orders out "Leave us" to all non-team people. The threat of torture is implied but not stated. He gestures with wine to keep in character. He definitely makes sure Young Obi-Wan is ushered out, so it's just five time travelers, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Ahsoka's immortal force birb.

"...so, what's the reason for the farce, Obi-Wan?" "How in all the hells did you figure it out so quickly?"

(Qui-Gon cheated a bit. He could feel the broken training bond that was never properly severed due to Traumatic Death Of A Master on Ben's end)

Ben didn't realize he'd feel it! Young Obi-Wan can't feel his older self or a training bond with Anakin or Ahsoka, so why could Qui-Gon?

IDK if there would be anything on the level of crying and hugging it out, but I think it would be very funny if, every time young Obi and Anakin are getting captured by pirates or something, Ben and Qui-Gon are just having a nice afternoon tea and checking their watches to see if their respective walking bundles of neuroses are done with their adventure yet.

The Council is So Done, because Qui-Gon continues to insist that they're Not That Bad, but every time anyone other than Qui-Gon brings up the friendship, Ben laughs and makes a comment about how absolutely gullible Master Jinn is.

Obi-Wan is skeptical of his own experiences with Anakin, at least, if only because he's skeptical about Anakin's everything.

"I don't know if Vader is telling me the truth. I don't know if he's telling himself the truth. I don't think he's a great source of information even when he thinks he's being honest."

Anakin could tell Obi-Wan the full and complete truth, and Obi-Wan would worriedly put a hand to his forehead and start doing tests for hallucinations and paranoid delusions. In his defense, this is a very reasonable assumption to make with an individual like Anakin. It's just also not accurate, this time. I don’t know if Anakin hallucinates in canon without a weird inciting incident like Force Nonsense or getting drugged by the enemy, but paranoid delusion is pretty much all of RotS.

"I’m your time-traveling padawan who’s pretending to be a Sith to catch some other Sith who’re going to start a galactic civil war and those Mandalorians you like are from a clone army based on a template of Jango Fett made to serve the Jedi (because that’s totally something he’d sign up for), and one of the Sith is your grandmaster but he doesn’t seem to have fallen yet, it’s probably fine," is hard to believe.

Honestly, even if he seemed stable before saying that, which he doesn’t, it’s all real far fetched. There's a lot going on and Obi-Wan wouldn't even begin to believe it without evidence.

I've had it in my head that he and Bant and Quinlan have been gossiping about the mess for months if not years about these idiots, and at one point it became common knowledge that Ben was a Kenobi, and Bant convinced them (since the two were among the most likely in the entire Order to encounter the Fake Sith) to get a DNA sample, probably hair or blood since that's easiest so they can figure out HOW these two are related, if they are, and then there's a whole big thing.

Bant: No, no, this must be contaminated, it's coming up as Obi-Wan! Are you sure you didn't accidentally grab some of your own hairs? I know it's a little long for most of your hair, but the braid-- Quinlan: Wait, they keep claiming stuff about cloning, right? Maybe someone's a clone? Check for artificial telomeres! Bant: ...okay, so, there aren't any artificial telomeres, but the ones from apparently-Ben are... a lot shorter... um... I don't know what to do with this. It's like I have two samples from the same person, twenty years apart. Quinlan: Obi-Wan, what's that face? Why are you-- Obi-Wan: Vader told me he was a time-traveler. I thought it was the fever talking, but...

That’s how he finds out that Ben is future-him before finding out about how he’s not evil!

"Master Jinn... I think... I think the Sith controlling the Outer Rim is me from the future." "Oh, you finally figured it out?" "I AM HAVING A CRISIS HERE."

Obi-Wan, after a few hours of dazed realization, runs screaming to Quinlan and Bant like 'GUYS GUYS THIS EXPLAINS WHY VADER KEPT SAYING IT WAS WEIRD AND THAT I LOOK LIKE HIS MASTER AND THAT IT WOULD BE LIKE DATING HIS DAD.'

You know, the important stuff.

I think Qui-Gon tells him that Ben isn't evil because, like, That Sure Is A Crisis Obi-Wan's Having. He could hold off for shits and giggles, sure, but Obi-Wan’s on the edge of something Really Concerning, mentally. Best help calm him down on at least one or two things.

Obi-Wan’s maybe still a little skeptical until he confronts them over it. Because their Sith act was real good and also like. Maybe Qui-Gon just wants to believe the best of his Padawan, y’know?

Quinlan runs into Ben before Obi-Wan does, after this whole mess, and gets to observe as money changes hands and people act like sore winners about bets made for When Does Obi-Wan Figure It Out.

Anakin was saying 'soon' because he really didn't think the fever-fueled rant would be discounted as easily as it was.

Cody was of the opinion that it would take at least a few more years since they're actually pretty damn good at this whole schtick.

Quinlan: Wow, he's... going to be really disappointed that you have such a low opinion of his intelligence. Cody, gesturing at Ben: Experience. Darth Ben: ಠ_ಠ

Cody just rattles off some of the Extremely Stupid Shit that Ben's done in their time working together.

Rex cheerily offers up "You didn't even realize General Skywalker was married, sir! And they weren't subtle!" "I knew they were together, I just didn--" "Everyone knew they were together, sir. Everyone."

(Rex had the lowest opinion of their deductive capabilities. He claims it would have taken until Baby Ahsoka showed up at the Jedi Temple.)

-Once Obi-Wan accepts that they're decent people after all- Obi-Wan: Wow, Anakin, you're real good at acting unhinged! Anakin: Haha. Yeah. Thanks?

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you-did-well-moon · 3 years

Text

Day6 Reaction to s/o learning their instrument while they're away

Type: Fluff, angst in Dowoon dont know what happened wasnt me

Word Count: 2.865

A/n: I took some creative freedom with why they were away but that is it. Keep in mind, I have no experience with instrument except for when I played the piano in 5th grade for like two weeks. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! - Moon

TW: small cuts, fight, second hand embarrassment

Sungjin

Sungjin was absolutely and devastatingly exhausted. His own guitar case felt like it was weighing him down tremendously, and he had a huge headache. Jae and Wonpil arguing in the back of the car was not helping in any way. It has been going on since they left the airport. He rubbed at his temples tiredly pressing his head against the cool window from his place in the passenger seat next to their manager.

Still, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he thought about seeing you, probably curled up in the couch cheeks puffed from the snack you were inhaling. The pounding in his head lightened at the cute sight he would soon get to enjoy as he played with the loose threads of his old button up shirt.

True to Sungjin’s imagination, your form was sitting on the couch. Not true to his imagination, you were actually bent over something in your lap, lightly humming and bopping your head to the rhythm being produced by your still clumsy fingers. The guitar in your lap had gotten lighter as the days went by without your boyfriend, and in replacement of his touch, leaving your fingertips warm and tingling, it was small cuts you hadn’t bothered to bandage as it disrupted you when playing.

You missed Sungjin an abnormal amount. The cold spot in the bed or him making weird faces at you through the mirror in the mirror when brushing your teeth. You missed all of it. With a slight tremble in your chest you started playing the chorus to “You Were beautiful”.

You were so focused on trying to get it right you didn’t notice the door closing only to startle when you slightly looked up through your lidded eyes seeing the shadow looming over the coffee table. With a small yelp of surprise you jumped immediately looking up only to find your boyfriend staring at you with wide eyes.

His surprised expression made you shrink into yourself. You threw your head into your hands in pure embarrassment letting the guitar gently slide off your lap, hitting the floor with a soft thump. “Can you just pretend you didn’t see that I can’t believe I even tried learning all that by myself I” you cut yourself off with an un-pleased sigh shaking your head and looking at him with pleading eyes.

Your boyfriend continued in his frozen state for about five seconds before breaking out in the biggest smile rushing around the coffee table in which you panicked trying to get away from him with a squeal, but being too slow im the excitement that was usually in a much dormant state in Sungjin. The wrinkles near the corner of his eyes deepened adoringly, and his chest shook with soft laughter while he held you close.

There was a fond twinkle in his eye as Sungjin forgot any tiredness that clung to his bones and kissed the tips of your fingertips while maintaining eye contact. He kept your hands encased in his when scolding you for having such low faith in yourself and softly encouraging you. He would probably put little stitch band-aids on your fingertips and continue teaching you, sitting you on his lap and scolding you when you lose focus with a sharp poke at your ribs smiling when you giggled. This man just fell impossibly more in love with you.

“You shouldn’t say those things, look at you love, learning all alone and doing so well. I'm so proud. Would you rather have the elmo band-aids or the stitch band-aids… I don’t know about you but Elmo kinda creeps me out. Just five more minutes little love then you can go mug Young k with Dowoon. Don’t look at me like that! You finally have a teacher and you take him for granted. The audacity-”

Jae

Jae was a thin hair away from just ripping his hair out. He didn’t believe the kpop industry would take very kindly to him going bald, but he had come to a point where he didn’t really care about what people thought anymore. But thinking about you not being able to play with his hair anymore while he drifted off to sleep with his head on your chest severely upset him.

Jae had gotten stuck in another limbo, stuck in the studio and in his own head desperately trying to finish any of the unfinished songs left in his computer files. He missed you so much, he eventually called it quits, deciding to go home to you, who he hadn’t seen in days.

Just the thought about seeing you energized his previously exhausted self. He never could get sick of you. Every day, every week was a new adventure, a new chapter, all with his favorite person in the world. The night sky, although beautiful, seemed to mock him, reminding him of how late it was, meaning you were most probably asleep.

Opening the door to his apartment, he heard soft music. He briefly recognized “I Need Somebody”, and thought you were playing it from your phone. All his thoughts came to a halting stop when he saw you perched on the bed, in his shirt, playing the melody of the previously mentioned song.

You had hair falling into your eyes with your eyebrows slightly scrunched trying not to mess up and heavily focused. Jae had loudly yelled in surprise, causing you to flinch and look up shocked at the sudden surprise. When you saw it was just him, you had comically thrown your hands in the air yelling at him about how it was supposed to be a surprise.

The irritated look on your face vanished as you went up to give him a light hug with a kiss, softly smiling at him. Meanwhile Jae, was completely out of it, lovestruck eyes while he instinctively returned your affection.

“Come Jae, you look like you haven’t slept in ages, your eyes are so sunken babe”, you had softly whispered to him, rubbing the soft skin under his eyes, the way you were always soft with him when he came back from the studio. You slept in the same bed for the first time in what had been days, Jae tightly clutching on to you.

He may have not been completely there at the moment, but in the morning when he had time to process everything, he was a changed man. He wouldn’t stop laughing and giggling excitedly, eagerly wanting to hear everything you had learnt. He even poked fun at you when you made a mistake. But it was all lovingly as he also praised you non stop while looking at you with his messy hair and big smile next to you on the couch. He had so much inspiration now. To finish what had been left behind.

“Pop off queen who gave you this much talent, you couldn’t even tell me what bass was last time we talked, which was like a week ago. Might just make you play when I don’t feel like playing. Give you a wig and people won’t know the difference! Why are you booing me, I'm right?”

Young K

Young K’s foot tapping on the floor of the car was the only sound that filled the car aside from the soft sound of the car’s engine and tires. He was absolutely spent, having to have stayed in a different city for a show he was invited to that was filmed far away from his home.

Far away from you. Young K could tell his manager was starting to get irritated, but Young K was already massively annoyed and too far in his own world to really care. He missed the pine scent of his sheets, and he missed you.

It was not a good combination. When he got to his place he quietly thanked the manager, getting his bag before trying to ignore every urge telling him to run into the building and fall into his soft bed with you in his arms. When he opened the door, your keys were there, so he knew you were in the building. That thought filled him with more relief than it should have.

He did have to admit, hearing “I smile” this early in the day was odd as you usually saved the more mellow songs for later in the night. Young K told himself he had many euphoric moments in his life, but seeing you staring at a sheet of paper with so much determination and a bass guitar in your arms came pretty close to the top.

The absolute warmth that exploded in his chest was a feeling he would not forget in a long time. He could feel his lips slightly curl up in fondness as your hands shook while your eyes wavered unsurely between your hands on the strings and the video on your laptop sitting further on the edge of the bed. Your face scrunched up before you sighed and stared dejectedly at the instrument on your lap.

“Why so sad love?" His voice made you instantly sit up, pushing the instrument gently off your lap. You crawled to the edge of the bed where Young K had already gotten closer where he met you tenderly running his hand through your hair, and he curved his hand around the back of your head bringing your forehead to his abdomen.

He brushed his thumb over where your hairline met the sensitive skin of the back of your neck immensely enjoying being back at your side. Your hands were clutching the back of his shirt, and your simple touch brought a warm feeling to his chest. You both leaned back as Young K’s chest started to rumble with laughter “You should have waited for me, it would have been easier if I could teach you”, he softly said, pushing your hair back from your face causing you to lightly laugh.

“I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t get that far anyways. Can’t become a prodigy in one day I guess”. Young K smiled again, promising to himself to help you as much as he could as he put his hand fondly on top of your head.

“You’re doing so good, just move your finger up a little, you’re plucking the c chord instead of the e chord during the chorus, don’t look at me like that i’m trying to help?! I wouldn’t put you on my level, but I think you’re doing really well. I’m hungry now, what do you want? No- What do you want? I am okay with anything just tell me-”

Wonpil

Wonpil was trying his hardest not to think about you. From the way you got excited when you got to see the moon in the cloudy sky to the way you smiled when you saw the neighbor’s cat while getting the mail.

He was happy to be on a trip with her sister, he hadn’t had much time to be with her in recent, well forever really. While you had been invited, you hadn’t been able to attend due to work. Wonpil did his best to keep his mind off you and enjoy the trip, he just hadn’t spent this long without you in a while.

Even so, he still had a fun time with his sister and her boyfriend creating many memories. He didn’t regret it, but he was extremely happy to come back to you. Opening the door to your apartment, he dropped his suitcase by the door, an excited smile tugging at his lips as he traveled through the apartment with his arms spread knowing you would embrace him as soon as you saw him. He felt so giddy, he didn’t even notice the broken keyboard sounds ringing throughout the living space.

His smile fell in a comical way, his face morphing into one of confusion instead. He recognized a broken rendition of “Mary had a little Lamb”, and tilted his head as he opened the door to your room seeing you with really big headphones on your head staring down at the keyboard with the most offended look on your face.

How dare this keyboard not give you its secrets! Wonpil couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his chest, not mocking you, but he just thought you were so cute. He lightly touched your shoulder causing you to jump, and the slight movement of your head caused the headphones to slide off your head. It didn’t matter much. You instantly dove into his arms, pressing the side of your face against his chest.

He felt warmth flood his chest as his hand encased the back of your head while he pressed his lips to the top, closing his eyes in bliss enjoying having you in his arms again. He leaned back from the brace as his eyes flashed with amusement and yours with slight embarrassment. He lightly laughed, eyes crinkling. He cradled your face in his hands, a teasing lilt to his voice, “What were you trying to do, hmm?” He could feel your face grow hot under his finger tips.

“I was just trying to surprise you. I felt bad for not being able to go with you”. He shook his head, hands playfully pinching your cheeks as you whined. “You shouldn’t act that way, I understood from the beginning. It must have been hard for you. Here, come, your lovely boyfriend will make this easier for you”.

“Y/n the keys will not bite prEsS dOWn, no, no keyboards do not have to be oiled, this is a musical instrument not a mechanical vehicle. You are so cute. What am I gonna do with you? No, you can not play the keyboard with your forehead, DO NOT put your foot on the keys. I don’t care if it’s for the vine.

Dowoon

Dowoon was beating himself up. Looking back at what happened a few hours ago made his chest tight. He couldn’t help but wince at the words both of you had thrown at each other. You had been with each other for so long, and when his lovely mother asked him when he would propose, although with good intentions, it put pressure on him.

He was still young. He had mentioned it to you in a joking manner, but there was a misunderstanding and you thought he was blowing it off as he didn’t see a future with you.

Somehow feelings were hurt, and the fight escalated. And Dowoon decided he was a coward because it was when you had started stuttering through your words and avoiding eye contact, he knew. He knew he had pushed you across a line that might not be able to be crossed again.

He panicked. He was really good at doing that wasn’t he? He left. He took a bus and went to the nearest hotel he could find. There he was sitting on the edge of the too perfectly made bed with his head in his hands.

Had he just ruined his precious relationship because he was scared of what the future could or could not hold? Why did he have to run away? Why couldn’t he just stay? Most importantly, how badly had he hurt you?

With a sigh he stood up, and he got on the bus back to your apartment. Staring at the door, the fact you were just on the other side and hurting is what pushed him to open it with the key you had given him. Opening the door, he was met with silence and darkness. Have you already gone? He walked through the apartment, hope dwindling with every step.

Then he heard a soft thump thump thump. His heart seemed to match with it, and as he walked to his studio which held his spare drum set, he thought of what he could say to make it better. Opening the door, he saw you softly hitting the drum with one stick, as if testing the waters and humming along to “When you Love Someone”. Dowoon couldn’t fight the sad smile that broke out on his face, and the absolute warmth that filled his chest.

Why did he ever even doubt your future with him? There was no person more perfect for him than you. He stood next to you, softly taking your hand in his and guiding your hand to the right beat, although a bit broken. When your sad eyes looked up into his, forgiving in nature but still frustrated beyond belief, he knew he could still fix things. You were you, and Dowoon was Dowoon. You always somehow found your way back to each other.

“No no, put your hands higher on the stick, no lower, now higher...a bit lower. No, Y/n drum sticks do not belong in my throat. What do you mean I have no room to talk, I thought we were over the fight. I would marry you in this life and the next! Why are you looking at me like that? I am not cute, I am handsome and overflowing with testosterone. Oooh are those gummies?

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treesnutsandleaveswrites · 3 years

Text

Rescue Mission

Pairing: The Bad Batch x Reader (Polyam)

Summary: The Batch agrees to help Hera save her parents; you encounter a familiar face

Warning: angst, TW: PTSD episode, TW: panic/anxiety attack, mentions of shooting and violence

Word Count: 2048

A/N: Won't be updating constantly, but sorry for keeping you all waiting

pt xvi, pt xviii

XXXXXXX

You and the Batch were looking over the city's capitol, trying to figure out what’s going on. You looked through one of your sniper scopes, having detached it from your rifle, and observed the heavily guarded area. Some people started to gather as Admiral Rampart made an announcement, which you listened to through Chopper’s satellite.

“Citizens of Ryloth, the shocking attack of your beloved Senator has left you shaken, but Orn Free Taa’s condition continues to improve and he will make a full recovery. The perpetrators of this heinous assasination attempt have been captured…”

Hunter looked up from his binoculars and over to Hera, “Assasination attempt?”

Hera shook her head, “That’s not what happened.”

You looked at Hunter for a moment before Omega spoke up.

“Hunter… Crosshair’s here.”

You took in a sharp breath as you looked through your scope and saw his familiar baster rifle and him in his new Imperial armor.

“Great. Just what we need!” Wrecker grumbled.

Hunter then gestured for the boys to huddle, so you took a bit to watch Crosshair before turning the girls.

“Keep an eye on the Capitol.” You ordered Omega and Hera, then put on your helmet before joining the boys.

“Ryloth’s not a separatist planet.” Echo said mid-coversation.

“Exactly my point.” Tech stated and went on about who knows what. You tried to listen to him, but you could see a change in Hunter’s demeanor.

“Wait here.” Hunter ordered as he rushed off.

You waited with the others before an Imperial probe droid came crashing down near all of you.

“Oh good… a probe droid.” Tech sighed.

“The Empire will know we’re here.” Echo announced.

“And so will Crosshair.” You said in unison with Hunter.

“Let’s move.” Hunter ordered, so everyone started following. Hera took a moment before being pulled by Omega with Chopper behind them. You were near frozen in your spot due to the thought of possibly reuniting with Crosshair. Echo was near the back, trying to make sure no one was left behind. He turned and saw you still in your place, then he went to you before grasping your hand tight.

“We can’t stay, mesh’la.” He insisted, which caused you to nod and follow him back to the Marauder.

You sat of the Marauder’s steps as the Batch talked with Hera.

“I told you… no guarantees. We’ll get you off world and take you somewhere safe.”

“Wait! Please!” Hera pulled at Hunter, “I’ll pay you double!”

“No money in the galaxy will matter if we’re dead! What you’re asking us to do is not worth the risk.”

Hera took a moment to look at him, “Not to you.” She rushed off. The boys started to head to the Marauder, but Omega stayed back.

“You shouldn’t have said that!”

“Being strategic means knowing your limitations, Omega.”

“She’s trying to save her family! I would do the same for you.” Omega retorted before following Hera. Hunter took a moment to process her words before turning towards the ship and seeing you still sitting on the steps. You hadn’t taken off your helmet since you got back to the base, but Hunter could sense the rigidness of your stature. He crouched down in front of you and placed his hands on either side of your helmet before gently lifting it from your head. You were pale and had tear streaks staining your cheeks. Hunter was surprised at first, but came to realise what was wrong. It was similar to your small episode in the fresher just recently. You were suffering from plasma shock… Hunter placed your helmet to the side and carefully caressed your wet skin.

“I know, cyare… I know…” He whispered before picking up your helmet, then hooking an arm around your waist to help you onto the cruiser. He sat you down and stood between your legs with his face in your hands. He did his best to coax you through the process of a plasma shock episode and made sure his attention was undivided just in case anything else happened. Once he sensed your calm breathing and heart rate, he moved away.

“I’ll be right back… just take your time, my love.” He hooked your chin endearingly before heading to the cockpit. You stay seated for a bit before Omega and Hera rushed onto the ship, straight into the cockpit. You were about the get up to see what was happening, but then D-5 rolled over to you quickly and bumped your foot.

“Star! S-s-s-star!”

You smiled weakly before picking him up and looking at him, “You haven’t broken anything have you?”

“All-all better!”

You hummed before placing him down and following his trail as he rolled into the cockpit. Yo stood at the threshold as Hunter spoke.

“Alright, you two go with Chopper as back up, but at a distance.”

The girls got excited, which caused Tech to speak up.

“By themselves?”

“Tech, Wrecker, wait until those canons are down, then move in. Echo and I will scale the Capitol wall and free Hera’s parents.” He looked down at Hera, “I guess we’re following your lead!”

Omega saw you at the threshold and grinned, “Did you hear that, Lodestar?”

You nodded with a smile, “Yeah. I know you’re just getting started with this mission stuff, but you’ve got clone blood in you. Just be careful, okay?” You approached her and cupped her face.

“Where will you be?” Hera wondered with excitement in her eyes.

“I’ll join Hunter and Echo at the Capitol. Freeing people is my thing, remember?”

Everyone looked to each other before dispersing to prepare.

*******

You walked cautiously with Hunter and Echo, approaching the walls of the Capitol. You nodded to Hunter as you all readied to scale the wall. Hunter crouched, offering you a boost before helping Echo and then jumping up himself. It was a fairly quick process and you climbed over the dursateel parapet as Hunter took out one of the guards. The other looked over the wall at Echo.

“A little help?”

Hunter got his attention as you looked at the small map of the Capitol you had downloaded through your holopad connected to your armor on your wrist. The others looked over to you before you nodded and gestured to the direction you should be going. The three of you arrived to the detention level and took out the guards then you found the cells before freeing those enclosed in them.

“What are you doing here?” Gobi Glie asked as he looked at all of you.

“Breaking you out.” Hunter explained.

“You know them?” Another male twi’lek asked who must have been Hera’s father.

“They are mercenaries, but I did not hire them for this.”

“Hera did.” Hunter stated.

“Hera? Where is she? Is she safe?” Her father asked.

Echo chuckled, “With Omega and Chopper? Let’s hope so.”

You were looking through your map again, “We should go soon, troops will be heading to the refinery by now.”

Hunter nodded before following you away from the detention level to find a safe exit. Everyone rushed down the halls but you stopped.

“What is it, Lodestar?”

“This… this is too easy.” You whispered.

“We have to go.” Cham insisted.

“No, no, I’m going to double back… see if the courtyard is clear.”

“That’s not the plan.” Hunter said sternly.

“Crosshair knows we’re here. He knows how we think. He isn’t a fool.” You argued, “I’d rather have one of us caught or killed than these innocent people we’re helping. I’m going to check the courtyard.”

You rushed away from the group before taking a detour for the upper wall again. There were troopers scouting out the exit, so you pulled out your blaster and stunned them before making your way around to get a better look. There was an overhead view on the farside of the courtyard where you could use your rifle just in case things went south. As you rushed over, you could see troopers lining up with shields and blasters, ready to attack the front gates.

“Hunter, do you copy?”

“I copy. We were just warned, we’re heading for Senator Taa’s private quarters. There’s a ship waiting there. Rendezvous back with the group.”

You stopped, eyeing a figure at the overview, “Go on without me. I’ll meet you back at the base.”

“Lode-”

You silenced your comm before pulling out the dagger you had sheathed in an underarm leather pocket. You approached carefully, trying not to make any noise. As you were getting past them, a shot near misses you. They approached out of the shadows and your heart froze. The person waiting there was Crosshair himself.

“So… Hunter has found another replacement.” He sneered through the modulator of his helmet. Your heart was pounding in your ears as he stopped just a few feet away.

“Silent too… How original.”

You gripped your dagger before sheathing it and standing there looking at him through the dark visor of your helmet.

“However, fairly stupid. Nothing like me.”

Says the one doing the Empire’s dirty work.

You took a step back as he raised his rifle again.

“At least give me a challenge.” He groaned, “You have no idea how good I am with a moving target.”

But you do…

You clenched your fist before rushing towards him and knocking the rifle out of his hands. He grunted before grasping your shoulders and tossing you into the wall. He approached you, looming over your body before pulling you by a piece of your armor and leaning you over the ledge, looking over you.

“You’re holding back… some soldier you are.” He commented quietly before taking your blaster from your belt and raising it up to the side of your helmet. Your breathing was fast and your whole body was shaking, but you still managed to raise your arm and take off your helmet quickly. Everything grew silent as he looked at you through the tinted green visor of his Imperial helmet. He dropped the arm holding your blaster and loosened his grip.

“How…”

You shoved him away forcefully before kicking the blaster out of his hands and picking it up, then shooting his rifle so it couldn’t fire. You then rushed away as he was down, making your way back to the base.

*******

It was nearly sun up when you arrived back to the valley where the base was. Omega was waiting with the Batch and Hera when she saw you. She ran up to you and hugged your midriff tight.

“I was scared you got captured by the Empire.” She admitted.

“I’m alright. Just had to make sure everyone was safe…” You replied before looking up at the others.

“We’re heading south to another city, away from Imperial scanners.” Tech explained as you approached the Marauder with her. You nodded, avoiding Hunter’s eyes and following Omega as she and Hera pulled you onto the ship.

You all arrived at the hangar of the small city before Hunter talked with Hera’s parents and the Batch was gathered around with Hera, occupying themselves. You stood to the side, still thinking about Crosshair.

“Lodestar.” Cham called and you looked up before approaching, “It has been an honor finally meeting you and working alongside you. We are all familiar with the work you have done.”

You nodded politely before Hera was called, so you walked away towards the Marauder. It was only a few minutes before the others joined you. You all filed onto the ship, but before Tech and Echo could go to the cockpit, Hunter stopped them and they all turned to you.

“What were you thinking?” Hunter pressed, crossing his arms over his chest, “You almost sabotaged the whole mission.”

You didn’t say anything, looking at him while he talked.

“You risked being caught by the Empire, Lodestar, don’t you understand that?”

You gave him a curt nod, seeing Omega’s worried eyes in your peripherals.

“Next mission, you’re staying on the ship--maybe even stay behind on Ord Mantell.” He ordered, before walking back to the cockpit. His brothers protested while following after him, but Omega stayed with you in the main Hangar.

“Lodestar? Are you alright?”

You looked at her with a nod before she went to sit as the ship started to take off.

XXXXXXX

Taglist: @darkangel4121

@lightning-wolffe

@alucas528

@rintheemolion

@shadowfoxey

@butch-medusae

@gabile18

@incandescentlywarm

@echo-is-worth-more-than-2000

@spidercrush3

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Inky Memories

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Drug Use (Past), Domestic Violence (Past), Shoplifting (Past)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Tattoos can reveal a lot about a person. What will Y/N’s tattoos, which she has kept hidden for so long, reveal to Corpse? Will it change anything between them?

Requested by Anon. If you’re reading this you know who you are 😊 Thank you for the request, hope you like what I did with it. Sorry if I made it too angsty! And my most sincere apologies for publishing it so late. Enjoy XOXO ❤

“Guys, come on now! I’m not hiding anything!“ I laugh, looking up from the comments to the camera, “You know how much I hate being embarrassed! Believe me when I say these tattoos are EMBERRASSING. I got them while I was either drunk or in my emo phase and I’m not too proud of them.“

I’m currently doing an Instagram live Q&A session that I scheduled last week. I do one every month and it’s my favorite way of connecting with my audience. An hour of chill lo-fi and questions and answers. I get really excited every time I schedule the session. My fans are such amazing people and they are all so supportive, funny, intelligent...I could go on and on about their positive qualities. One thing I’m not too fond of is their persistent curiosity. Here’s why.

Yesterday, while streaming, I got an unexpected pain in my forearm. Instinctively, I lifted my shirt sleeve to see what was wrong, flashing a few tattoos at my viewers in the process. I’ve never mentioned my tattoos to my audience, not even my boyfriend, actually, so to have this much attention on them so suddenly makes me want to hide them even more. People started commenting on them during the stream and I tried to dodge the majority of the questions, but I knew they would be inevitable during the Q&A. If the session hadn’t been scheduled for like a week at that point I maybe would’ve postponed it until the dust settled.

“I have several. Not only on my arm.“ I only answer these vague questions. I avoid the ones that are asking details like what is depicted with the tattoos and what’s their meaning, bla, bla, bla.

Here’s the thing. I got my first tattoo when I was fifteen at this shady alley tattoo shop and I’ve been obsessed with tattoos since. I made a deal with myself to get at least one every year.

Needless to say, I’m twenty years old and have almost the same number of tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed of them. And I lied when I said they were embarrassing. I am quite happy with them, the way they look, at least. Each of them represent something different. Unfortunately, they are representative of some dark and depressing times. Times I want only the fewest of few people to know about.

“Yes, he’s here. You can’t see him, but he’s waving. He says hi.“ Corpse is the perfect distraction. My viewers love him just as much - maybe more - as they love me.

He knows how easily I get overwhelmed by the attention and pressure of thousands of eyes on me and whenever I’m having a hard time while streaming all he has to do is walk in my recording room and just say the most random thing. Recently, his go-to phrase has been ‘Chicken wing’ and it always cracks up both me and my viewers.

Speaking of Corpse, him and I have been dating for over a year now. We moved in together a month or two before quarantine was officially a thing so we have been together 24/7. It’s scary how many things you can pick up on when you spend so much time with someone. That, of course, means he has noticed some of my tattoos. He has asked me about them, like why I cover them up and why am I so secretive about them and I’ve always been vague and indirect with my answers. He’s the sweetest and most patient person ever, so he has never pressed me with the questions, but I’m still hoping to gain the courage to reveal them to him someday.

“Thanks for tuning in, guys! See you tomorrow for my regular stream and next month for a chill hang out like this one. Love you, stay safe. Mwah!“ And with that the live video is done and I can finally breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Now we can order dinner“ I smile at Corpse who is chilling on the couch in my recording room. He looks up from his phone screen, returning my smile. “Were you recording a Behind The Scenes again?“

He does that often, not only with my Instagram lives but sometimes my streams as well. That’s actually how we revealed our relationship to our fanbases.

He nods, “Yeah.” He pauses for a second, switching to a sitting position with his feet touching the floor. We’re almost at eye-level now. His arms snake around my waist as he pulls me closer towards him. I take the hint and settle in his lap, my legs on either side of him. “I admire how well you handled the pressure back there. I know how you feel about that topic.”

The small bit of anxiety that has started spreading throughout my chest disappears. He has that calming effect on me. Like my own personal safety blanket that’s with me at all times. “I wouldn’t have handled it so well if you weren’t here with me.” I say as I run a hand through his hair, moving a few stray curls away from his gorgeous eyes.

He shakes his head, making the strands fall back over his eyes, “It has nothing to do with me, Y/N. You are simply an amazing person, that’s all.“ His cold hand cups my burning red cheek, leaning my head down so our foreheads are touching. “Nothing could change my mind about it.“

That sentence causes a small pang in my chest. I feel like a manipulator. I’ve led this man to fall in love with me without knowing the past versions. I realize it’s incredibly manipulative of me to reveal my dark aspects only after we’re head over heels for one another, but I can live with it. If it were up to me, he’d never have to know. He would never have to find out that I’m not the amazing person he thinks I am. I have been broken countless times before and all my pieces are just glued in place. Not all of them are where they’re supposed to be and some of them are on the verge of breaking off. Just like a mirror. You can put all the pieces together but not only will you see the cracks, the shards can fall at any moment.

My tattoos are to me as the cracks are to the mirror - evidence of my fragility and the many falls and breaks I’ve had throughout my life.

“Are you sure about that?“ I whisper, trying my hardest to engrave every detail of this moment in my mind because, after what I’m about to do, I’m afraid we might never be like this again.

The softness of his curls, his scent, his warmth, the way he makes me feel. I can hardly believe I’m risking losing all of that, but I owe him the truth.

I feel him nod against my forehead. I tense up and pull away so I can look him in the eyes. It’s hard for me to maintain eye contact especially when I’m fighting back tears. I can’t even say I’m about to lose him. I’m about to let him go. It’s up to him if he stays or decides that he deserves better.

No backing out, Y/N.

I grab the hem of my sweater and lift it up, revealing the many ink drawings on my skin. I discard the sweater on the floor, leaving me in only my bra meaning all my tattoos are on display. Not exactly all, I have some on my legs as well, but these are some of the most important ones. The ones which reveal most about who I used to be.

Corpse takes my hands, tilting my arms so he can take a better look at the tattoos that go from my wrists to the bend of my arm. His thumbs caress the tattoo on each of my wrists. “This one... “ I nod to my left wrist, “I got on my friend’s birthday. We both did. They’re matching.“ The tattoo depicts a heart with a keyhole. “She got the key.“

“I thought I had the key.“ He says, smirking up at me.

“You do now.“ I feel the pang again but this time it doesn’t go away. It’s a constant pain - a constant fear. Being scared of something inevitable is the most nerve-wracking feeling. It makes you feel small, helpless, like you’re standing aside watching your life be controlled by a force you can’t see.

Before he can break me even more, I go on, nodding to my upper arm, a little below my shoulder where there’s a rope tattoo that bends around my arm, its ends connecting in a bow, “I got this one after my shoulder healed.”

His brows furrow in concern as he tilts my head for me to look at him, “Healed from what?”

Here we go. Let the cat out of the bag. “Um....well...” I instinctively reach up to touch my shoulder, running my fingertips over the inked rope. “My dad wasn’t a very nice guy.”

I can pinpoint the second his heart breaks. I don’t want to hear what he has to say, I know it will kill me, so I just continue, moving onto the one on my other wrist where the word ‘Shadow’ is written in cursive writing, “This was my nickname in my friend group. I was the only one to never get caught shoplifting.”

The tears are gonna start rolling at any moment so I deliver the final blow, moving onto the most traumatic event, aka the tattoo on my collarbone of a heartbeat turning into a dead line and kicking up again, “This one I got after I woke up from my almost overdose.”

As if on cue, a tear falls from my eye onto his hand that’s still holding mine. My voice remains still, to my surprise, but I know it won’t be long before it too gives and breaks. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see any sympathy or that look like he doesn’t recognize me. I feel like I’ve let both myself and him down.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?“ he asks me in a whisper. He sounds almost hurt. “You know you can tell me anything.“

I see another tear fall, “I know. I just...didn’t want you to think any less of me.“

Again, he lifts my head so he can look me straight in the eyes. He knows how much I struggle with eye contact and how much I hate crying in front of people, he knows how vulnerable I feel when someone’s looking me in the eyes or when someone sees me cry. He also knows that he’s the only exception to that rule. He knows I never feel out of place when he’s around.

“Think less of you? Babe, you’re a fighter like no other. You picked you life back up. You did all that on your own. You’re a warrior, Y/N.“

I smile through the tears which are now ones of joy instead of fear and dread. “I was a dumb teenager, Corpse. I had no idea what I was doing. I just wanted to get a thrill and feel something other than pain. I know I went about it the wrong way but...” he gives my hand an encouraging squeeze, “And you’re wrong, I didn’t do it all on my own.” I release his hand so I can cup his cheek. His hand comes up to cover mine as I swipe my thumb on his cheekbone, “I met you a month after I left the hospital. The rest you know. I moved to a less druggie populated part of town and I repaired my relationship with my aunt. All that time, I was balancing between the need to relapse and the will to stay alive. After I met you, that balancing act was no longer a balancing act at all. I didn’t even think about my past anymore. I was more focused on what I could be. On what I have to be to deserve to have you by my side.”

“You will always have me on your side, Y/N. Even when you don’t want or need me there.“ With both his hands holding mine he leans forward, connecting our lips. It’s a short kiss laced with nothing but love and adoration.

As we lay on the couch, him asking about each individual tattoo I didn’t get to tell him about, everything just seems a lot easier. Like a big area that was previously dark has suddenly turned into the brightest point of our relationship.

“I need to get that key tattooed. It’s only appropriate.“ He says, his finger tracing the heart on my wrist.

“Or an ownership deal for it. That heart’s yours, you know.“ I laugh, lifting my arm to inspect the oldest painting on my body, “It’s your favorite one?”

“No.” he shakes his head, “This is my favorite one.” he leans down and kisses the heartbeat on my collar bone. “I’m so glad it started beating again.”

“I am too.“

@susceptible-but-siriusexual @simonsbluee @save-the-sky @hacker-ghost @itsminniekat @bi-andready-tocry @imtiredaffff @jazzkaurtheglorious @hereforbeebo @fandomgirl17 @chrysanthykios @maehemscorpyus

#corpse husband #corpse #husband #corpsehusband #corpse simp #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse fanfiction #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse fanfic #requests #request #requests open #x reader #reader insert #love #angst

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thenerdywriter · 3 years

Text

i came in from the outside, burnt out from the joyride

this was born out of a conversation with @akinosakiya, so all credits go to her >.<

chapter i | chapter 2 (coming soon)

Han Joon Hwi and Kang Sol, years after graduation. post-canon fix it, idiots to lovers.

ao3

a/n : i got this idea as i feverishly dm'd my friend about a solhwi prompt,,, i took it too far i think >.<

please tell me if you like it!!

a/n: title taken from Hozier's Almost (sweet music) which i recommend while reading this.

chapter 1: you and i are lovers in the dark

There has got to be another way of doing this. I can’t be doing this all my life.

“You know,” the words from Yeseul makes her look up, “you didn’t have to do this to yourself. You could have not taken the case, eonni. I told you not to take the case.”

Sol doesn’t say anything, just hangs her head in shame. The soju burns as she tips her head back, draining the last dregs of it, “I knew I shouldn’t have asked you for help. You’re being insufferable now that you’re dating Bok-gi.”

Yeseul laughs, reaching for the soda can, “eonni, I think you’re thinking about it too much.”

“I am, aren��t I?” she looks at the other girl, clearly panicked, “does it show? Oh, it shows, doesn’t it? Oh, what am I going to do—”

“Ah, noona, you shouldn’t have taken this case on, then,” Bok-gi says as he enters the room and take in the sight of a dishevelled Sol and a grinning Yeseul, “oh, Yeseul noona, I was looking all over for you!”

Sol scowls, “haven’t the two of you been dating forever? Why do you still have the honorific? And for your information, I took the case before I knew it was going to be him that I would have to go up against.”

Bok-gi looks affronted, and Yeseul comes to her boyfriend’s rescue, “ah, I like it, eonni.”

“Of course, you like it, you’re just as gone for him as he is,” she grumbles, “so, Bok-gi, Yeseul’s been telling you everything now, has she?”

“Ah, eonni, leave him out of it,” Yeseul soothes her, rubbing circles into her back, “do you want me to take the case? Instead of you—”

“The client won’t agree on it,” Sol whines, “and just when I thought I had got rid of him.”

“Rid of who?” so Bok-gi doesn’t know, Sol notes with some amount of pleasure, good. At least Yeseul didn’t tell him about the fact that—

“Oh, eonni might have to work with Joon-hwi oppa,” Yeseul chirps, looking entirely too pleased for Sol’s liking, “she’s the public defender for Joon-hwi oppa’s case.”

“The attempted murder one?” Bok-gi sounds as perplexed as Sol is, “but I thought hyung only dealt with financial cases, what happened? Didn’t you say you had some other prosecutor to deal with, noona?”

Sol groans, “apparently he’s taking criminal cases too, and the first one he chose to take was mine,” she stands up, “can’t I ever get rid of him?”

Yeseul blinks, “why did you have to get rid of him in the first place?”

Sol groans, sitting down on the chair with a thump. This was becoming a frighteningly regular occurrence, groaning at the mere mention of his name, “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You sound like a sixteen-year-old right now, noona,” Bok-gi giggles, and she scowls at him. How dare they find happiness in my misery. Just because she loved them didn’t mean she would put up with everything that they did.

Liar. You’ll always put up with whatever they do.

Wait, why did that sound like him? Did he finally manage to get inside her head?

No. no, calm down, Kang Sol. Joon-Hwi is not inside your brain. Your brain is filled with statutes of law, precedents, your grocery list, the things you need to buy Byeol for her birthday—

You have too many things on your mind.

Ah, fuck.

She stands up again, taking a look at Bok-gi and Yeseul’s surprised faces, and sits back down, “never mind. It’s just him. how bad could it be? We just lost touch over the years, and I specifically made sure to not keep in touch with him after we graduated—I’m going to die, Yeseul-ah.”

“No, eonni, you won’t,” Yeseul props her up gently, pushing the bowl of bibimbap towards her, “at least eat something before you cry.”

“No, you’re right,” Bok-gi agrees, although Sol knows he’s laughing at her internally, the little shit, “it’s wrong to cry and not eat. I’ll be dehydrated.”

The food tastes bland in her mouth, although she knows she’s made it spicy, but Sol works her way through it with tears in her eyes (she passes it off as due to the spice) and promptly starts sobbing again, lamenting her crappy life.

“Eonni, the trial isn’t until next month, you have enough time to prepare,” Yeseul tries to placate her, but it only increases the volume of her groans. A whole month spent dreading the presence of Han Joon-Hwi as she prepared for the trial. “You’ll win it, right?”

There. That was what had been bugging her. The fact that he hadn’t lost a single case since he’d become prosecutor. It isn’t like she hadn’t expected this from him, coming first in her class, but—

“Is this even fair?” she wails, “the attempted murder case doesn’t even have to have him as the prosecutor, it is going to be easy for me to win, the client was framed, and there is no evidence—”

“Noona,” Bok-gi peers at her, his eyes going wide, “you’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Ah, it isn’t like that!” she tries to defend herself. But Yeseul just stares, “fine. You caught me. I’m scared of losing to him, he hasn’t even lost a single case since he made prosecutor, he’s on his way to becoming head prosecutor in less than a decade, and I’m—I’m barely surviving as it is, so why did Attorney Geun-Tae give this case to me?”

Both Bok-gi and Yeseul look shocked, and Sol isn’t surprised. They should be. She was the one who cut off contact with Joon-Hwi after graduation, claiming he didn’t need her to weigh him down, and she was the person who did everything without a single glance backwards, so why was she being so defensive? “It’s not like I don’t want to whine all the fucking time, it’s just that—”

“Whoa, noona swears a lot when it comes to Joon-Hwi hyung, who knew.” Bok-gi says, clapping a hand over his mouth, “have you always been this way, or did this just happen after you found out that you were going up against him?”

Sol scowls, “you’ve been trying to act cute, don’t try that with me, Min Bok-gi.”

Yeseul nods at Bok-gi. Sol scowls again. Traitor.

The truth is, she should have known this was coming. Their field doesn’t leave much for anonymity, and even if it did, why did she think it would be so easy to avoid Joon-Hwi? The boy—sorry, man, she supposes she should give him at least that much, they were both in their thirties now—the man was everywhere, the newest rising star in the prosecution. Even her boss, the clueless Park Geun-Tae knew about it, and had requested her to work in a case against him. her, the person who barely passed her law school course at Hankuk. Who has a sister far smarter than her, better than her at all aspects, who really isn’t cut out to be in this profession, something which she’s heard all too often from everyone, and all she wants to do is yell I know, I know, she knows it all.

Which is why, when Han Joon-Hwi approached her after the graduation ceremony, a determined look on his face, she dreaded the words that would come out of his mouth, and instead chose to flee. In retrospect, it wasn’t the best decision, but Kang Sol A isn’t known for making the best decisions.

She still lives with her mother and Byeol in that same house, where Joon had once installed a CCTV camera, which Lee Man-Ho had broken with a well-aimed rock, but the camera is still there, and while Byeol is in middle school now, a big girl, who doesn’t like Sol picking her up from school every day and who is already getting into trouble with that big mouth of hers, and certainly doesn’t need protecting, the camera is still there, and every once in a while, she likes to take a look at it, sipping beer after a long day at work. It’s obviously dysfunctional, but she likes to imagine that Joon-Hwi still takes a look at the camera feed, doing whatever “top secret” things he did.

She sighs, opening the door to their home. I have work to do if I need to beat Joon-Hwi.

“Why was I assigned to this case?” Joon-Hwi asks, surprise evident on his face, “I usually take financial dispute cases, this is an attempted murder, and the evidence doesn’t even look solid. Why am I being given this?”

He’s speaking to the wall in his office, and his paralegals are out on break, but he feels as though he should at least vent about this to something, if not someone. He’s supposed to be a star prosecutor, someone who hasn’t lost a single case since they stepped foot into the District Prosecutor’s office. And it’s true, he hasn’t lost a single case since he began working here, spurred on by a desire to both step out from under his uncle’s shadow and to prove himself.

The cases he has handled until now, have all been financial, catching the people who use money to get their way in the world, much like Ko Hyeong-Su, people so entitled to the world that they didn’t consider the rest of them as human beings. He liked bring them down to their level. Hell, he loved it.

But his specialty is not criminal law, and that too, a case that would be difficult for him to win, given that there was very little evidence and whatever he had, would never fly in a court of law. He’s kind of pissed at Prosecutor Lee for giving him the case. No, scratch that, he is pissed at Lee for giving him the case.

Defending lawyer—

Defending lawyer, Kang Sol.

Could it be?

He turns to his computer, and contemplates for a second if he should ask the police officer about the defending counsel, but decides against it. I don’t want to seem like a fool. Which—is correct. He is a fool.

So, he calls up the person who had the case before him, Prosecutor Shin, and tries not to hide the excitement in his words when he asks, “did you meet the defence counsel when you arrested the defendant, Prosecutor?”

“She didn’t have one,” the prosecutor replies, voice scratchy, and he wonders of he did the right thing by disturbing someone who was in the hospital, “we’ve indicted her, but the defence counsel was changed at the last moment, something about the public defender dropping the case. Her new counsel is some young lawyer, although she has a lot of experience.”

A lot of experience. “A lot of experience?”

“Yes,” the voice on the other side cracks, and there’s some commotion in the background, “I remember meeting her in the courthouse once. People call her crazy, the lengths she goes to defend her clients are insane. She’s a good egg though, doesn’t take on cases that she doesn’t like.”

“Hmm, thank you, Prosecutor,” he mumbles, hanging up the phone. So that’s what you’ve been doing all this time, Kang Sol. how long has it been, four-five years? And we’ve never met once, impressive.

He’s suddenly very excited for the initial hearing, even if he knows its going to be nearly impossible to win. But at least he can see her for the first time in years, even if its on the opposite side in a court of law. At least he has that.

—

“You’re being stupid,” Jiho says without much in the way of context, but Joon knows what he’s talking about, “you had to take a case just to meet her? A case you are most likely going to lose? What kind of person does that?”

Joon-Hwi rolls his eyes. Jiho was a good man, but sometimes, he really didn’t know the reason behind things. Or to be more specific, why Joon-Hwi did some things. Still, it was understandable as to why he would behave like this. Neither of them has had any connections with each other over the past five years, missing each other by mere moments at times, and yet, he’s still enamoured by her memory, of the way she used to look at her law books and the way she used to stick her highlighters in her hair, her triumphant smile after she answered something correctly; he remembers everything, and he gets nostalgic sometimes, but such is human nature, one supposes.

“It’s been five years, hyung,” Jiho mutters, pushing the bowl of soup towards him, “isn’t it time you gave up on Sol noona?”

He raises an eyebrow, “I didn’t think you addressed anyone as noona.”

Jiho shrugs, “she’s older than me, so it’s only right. And I did work with her on a case about three—two years ago, and she’s really become good. Or is it all the experience that she has had now, working as a partner at Attorney Park Geun-Tae’s firm, which is unheard of, at her age, but she’s far more competent than him—”

He’s talking, but Joon-Hwi doesn’t register anything anymore, “you’ve worked with her? Together?”

“Hmm?” Jiho mumbles, thrown off his track, “yes, I literally just said that I did, what are you thinking about?”

“No. no, back up a little,” he insists, and Jiho’s confused expression clears when he realises what exactly is Joon-Hwi implying.

“Really? You’re jealous over the fact that I worked with Sol noona? That’s how petty you’ve become now, hyung?” Jiho rolls his eyes, and Joon has the incessant need to just—bury his face in his hands, “you could just give her a call, you know.”

He glares. Jiho nods, “guess not,” and resumes eating. He takes another look at the case file, and sets it down, proceeding to shove food into his mouth. The Japanese restaurant has good food, he does agree, but nothing beats eating too-hot ramyeon at three in the morning with your best friend after you’ve finished reviewing three lectures’ worth of notes together. Crap. He still remembers her as his best friend, even though they haven't had any contact over the past years now. Pathetic.

But self-deprecation isn’t his forte, and he shakes his head at Jiho, who’s determinedly eating, “how’s Sol B doing? Isn’t she going to be a judge?”

“She’s still practicing,” Jiho replies, “her mother wants her to be a judge, although I don’t think Sol wants to do it. She’s happy being a legal scholar. Wants to become a professor at Hankuk later on, if the constitutional law position opens up.” His face has a curiously fond look when he’s talking about her, Joon notices, or perhaps it’s a trick of the light, because Jiho straightens up, “who gave you the case, though?”

“My superior sent it to me because the prosecutor in charge had fallen ill, and had to be taken to the hospital,” Joon-Hwi replies, “it isn’t east for me to win this one, even though—”

“Even though you’ve never lost a single case?” Bok-Gi’s voice almost makes the two of them jump, and Jiho sends a well-aimed smack his way, “so you’re taking noona’s case, are you, hyung?”

Jiho snorts, “he’s losing sleep here.”

“When did I say I was losing sleep?” Joon-Hwi begins to say indignantly, but Bok-gi is still grinning as he slides in beside Jiho, “who told you that, Seo Jiho?”

Jiho doesn’t say anything, so Bok-Gi fills in for him, “hyung, you look terrible. Haven’t you been eating properly?”

Joon-Hwi squints at the other boy, how did he know I haven’t been sleeping well? Does it show on my face? Is it that bad?

“It is that bad, hyung,” Jiho pipes up, “you look like death warmed over.”

“It isn’t that bad, honestly,” Bok-gi says, and promptly shuts up under Jiho’s glare, “jeez, all right, all right, he looks bad. Very bad. Bad with a capital B.”

Joon-Hwi groans. He was supposed to have been handling another financial scam by this time, but he’s now talking to two of his classmates, preparing for a case that he was sure of losing, just to see the girl of his dreams.

Pathetic.

It had been two weeks since she had found out that Han Joon-Hwi was going to be the prosecutor for her newly-assigned case, and Sol already felt like she was going to drown amidst a sea of precedents, case studies, and more cases that she needed to read just once, in order to keep her client from getting a guilty verdict. She would have to work harder if she needed to beat him, and had even contemplated asking Professor Yang for help, not that the man would do anything to make her life any easier.

Instead, she settles for the next best thing, calls over Sol B and Yeseul for help, and while Sol B grumbles, Yeseul agrees enthusiastically, even offering to bring over Bok-gi for an extra pair of eyes. Not one to be outdone in anything, Sol B offered to bring over Jiho, who grumbled more than Sol B (if that was possible), but agreed to come along nevertheless, and they all sat in her tiny living room, looking as though they had lived there all their lives, and had helped her with the case, although the boys were more interested in devising ways to make Joon-Hwi lose, as Jiho put it, “noona is our best bet, and he owes me food if he loses.” No one could argue with that, honestly.

Except she feels like drowning, and the trial was only two weeks away.

Stupid Joon-Hwi. Why did he have to take my case? Why couldn’t he just remain in civil law? Why did he have to do this? Why, why, why?

She knew that she was being irrational. He didn’t have much control over the cases he was assigned to, and given the fact that the prosecutor in charge had been admitted to the hospital, she doesn’t think he had any sort of control over what cases he would be assigned to. Still.

You’re being irrational now, a voice that sounds surprisingly like Professor Yang’s pipes up in her mind, you’re being distracted right now, Kang Sol. You won’t win if you’re distracted.

Right. She turns back to her papers, trying her best to push the thoughts out of her mind.

I can’t be distracted.

—

He was distracted.

It wasn’t his fault, perhaps, but Joon-Hwi feels guilty nevertheless, especially as he stares at his two paralegals who are stuck alongside him, working into the night.

He’s been staring at the same picture for the past thirty minutes. In his mind, it qualifies as work, but what sort, he isn’t sure. It’s a picture from their graduation day, the seven of them (Seung-Jae hyung was behind the camera) and Professors Kim and Yang, Yangcrates even had a rare smile, something which he hadn’t ever imagined witnessing, at least not sober. Him with his arm around Jiho, who clearly didn’t want to be dragged into a conversation then, his attention focused on someone else. Sol B, staring straight into the camera, grinning ear to ear. Bok-gi and Ye-beom, the latter gesticulating wildly and Bok-gi just laughing at him, Yeseul with her head thrown back in laughter, and Sol—Sol was radiant, (he laughs at that, radiant, the Greek meaning fitting her like a glove, Sol, the Sun) the way she smiled at the camera, her hand held up in a peace sign. It was an imperfect picture, and he has the final, proper version hung on his living room wall, but it’s the warmest picture he has ever been in.

The trial is the next day, and he should be getting some sleep, but he finds himself staying awake even after his two paralegals have gone home, apologising profusely for leaving him alone, and then he takes out his phone, which has been blowing up with messages from Bok-gi and Jiho, asking to come out with them for dinner. He knows it’s a bad idea, that they would try and get him drunk, or worse, that he would voluntarily get drunk, and showing up hungover at the courthouse isn’t a great idea.

Except… he really wants to do so. It’s like he’s back in university again, trying to find ways to rile Kang Sol up, teasing her, to revel in the way she would get angry with him for cutting short her study times, even though she should have been in bed three hours prior. She would always look at him with that strange sort of expression in her eyes, Joon-Hwi remembers, as if she couldn’t decide whether to hit him or to just kiss him and shut him up.

His phone pings, and it’s a text from Jiho, telling him that hyung, do you want to come out for dinner? Sol’s buying.

He really shouldn’t. even if it had taken him a moment to know which Kang Sol Jiho had been talking about and even then, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat at the mention of her name, he shouldn’t.

Oi, Han Joon-Hwi, aren’t you a little too old and a little too responsible to be drinking before the day of an important trial?

The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Sol, not Sol B—Sol A, although he doesn’t know how anyone could confuse themselves between the two—they were as different as light and day, and the one on his mind was not the one who was offering to buy him drinks and dinner. He sighs, texting Jiho a quick apology before he heads out of the office. He needs to be alone tonight, trying to get his thoughts in order before he faced Kang Sol in the courthouse the next day.

Even though he’s sure to lose, he just might win.

#jtbc law school #mine #my writing #fanfiction #solhwi fanfiction #han joon hwi #kang sol a #kang sol a x han joon hwi #kang sol b #seo ji ho #min bok gi #jeon yeseul #idiots to lovers if there was one #ro writes #solhwi #solhwi brainrot whos here with me yall

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baoshan-sanren · 4 years

Text

Chapter 31

of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling Lan QiRen’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week oh god it’s only gonna get worse

The Lan Sect camp is small. It is also a bit pitiful, with a distinct lack of tents, bedrolls, or any other necessary accommodations.

Still, Wei Ying is impressed by their diligence. Long before he is aware that there is a camp in the vicinity, a lookout has already spotted them and signaled their approach. The location had not been carelessly chosen either. The sight lines to the north, east, and south are clear, and to the west, a rugged hill rises sharply, hiding the camp from the Immortal Mountain watchtowers.

He does not have to ask how the site for the camp was chosen. He is already beginning to suspect that Lan QiRen has many more layers than he lets on, aside from the unexpected sense of humor.

Three other Nie Sect disciples have caught up with them on the outskirts of YiLing, providing a small escort. According to Nie XuanYu, another dozen are following a distance behind, ensuring that the Emperor’s presence remains a secret. Lan Zhan is walking by his side, his posture dignified and reserved. He does not speak.

Despite clearly intending to remain out of sight, the Lan Sect disciples have not gone as far as to trade in their white uniforms for something a little less obtrusive. Among them, it is easy to pick out Nie MingJue’s dark shape, which makes the figure next to him that of Lan XiChen. The two people across from them are unfamiliar. He takes one of them for a Lan Sect disciple precisely due to the color of robes, the white layers glowing brightly in the darkness. It is not until the figure turns, displaying an equally white blindfold, that Wei Ying stumbles a step.

“Uncle?”

The answering grin, visible even in the gloom, propels him forward.

“Uncle!”

Forgetting he is no longer twelve years old, he crosses the last bit of distance at a run, and nearly knocks Xiao XingChen over with his exuberance. XingChen laughs, his grip as tight as Wei Ying’s.

Oh, but when had uncle become so small?

Nearly four years have passed since their last parting. Is it possible that Wei Ying had grown so much, that he no longer has to lift his gaze to see XingChen smile? Unexpectedly, he feels his eyes prickle, and rubs his face with both hands, covering the sudden wistfulness with a laugh. He is happy to see that uncle’s faithful shadow had not grown smaller, still towering over them both.

The man attempts to bow, and Wei Ying latches on to his forearms, keeping him upright.

“Song Lan. Did I not say my uncles should never bow to me?”

A ripple of shock travels through the surrounding Lan disciples. The Empress’ brother is conspicuous enough, his sword and blindfold easily giving him away, but the man at his side had been taken for a simple bodyguard. To hear the Emperor address him as family raises more than one speculative whisper.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Song Lan says, “I had forgotten.”

“Ah, ah, now I am Your Majesty, but the last time you were at the Immortal Mountain, you called me a rotten little troublemaker. You threatened to kick my royal backside off the rooftop if I insisted on staying out past midnight. Do you remember that?”

The politely respectful expression on Song Lan’s face shifts into fond exasperation, “I am afraid my memory is especially poor lately, Your Majesty.”

Before he could think of a way to respond, Wei Ying suddenly realizes that Lan Zhan’s presence, which had been steady at his side since YiLing, is no longer there.

He turns to find him standing a few steps back with Lan XiChen and Nie MingJue, obviously attempting to remain invisible.

“Lan Zhan!”

Although he thinks he has never seen Lan Zhan look this alarmed, not even when he had mistaken Wei Ying for an assassin, he grabs the edge of the voluminous sleeve anyway, excited to introduce the man he means to marry.

“Come meet my uncle.”

Lan Zhan allows himself to be tugged forward, and offers a formal greeting, his posture rigid, his face unreadable.

Uncle is all gentle politeness, admitting that he had been the one to send the Lan Sect disciples into YiLing, unaware that his request had gone directly against the Sect Leader’s orders. He expresses regret for having placed them at risk, and from Lan XiChen’s expression, Wei Ying surmises that uncle had already apologized once.

XingChen inquires after a few of the Lan Sect members he had met on his travels, mentions that he dearly misses the excellent cuisine at CaiYi town, and compliments the Lan Sect efforts in LianYi during the drought.

In short, uncle is trying, to the best of his ability, to put Lan Zhan at ease. But although Lan Zhan is unfailingly courteous in return, his palpable discomfort does not wane.

Suddenly, Wei Ying feels guilty.

It occurs to him that he has done nothing but pull and push Lan Zhan in every possible direction for the past five days. Less than an hour ago, he had done a terrible job of confessing how he feels, managing to not give voice to any of his carefully planned out, honorable intentions. His fumbling is unlikely to have produced anything other than frustration and confusion, to which now, Lan Zhan must add a dose of casual banter with the Shan Empire’s notorious Rogue Prince.

The moment XingChen runs out of pleasantries, Wei Ying tugs on Lan Zhan’s sleeve again, but gently this time, trying to convey an apology, “Lan Zhan, we should go sit by the fire. The night is getting cold. Uncle, come sit down and tell me what brings you to YiLing.”

“Your Majesty,” Nie MingJue cuts in, “it is quite late. If you mean to enter by the Five Phoenix Gate instead of sneaking in the same way we had snuck out, I am afraid that delaying your return will only work to our disadvantage. We should start back the moment the rest of the Nie Sect arrives from YiLing.”

Wei Ying cringes. He had not even considered the mechanics of returning with the rest of the Lan Sect disciples, let alone with uncle in tow. Uncle Jiang will be upset, and Madam Yu-- he shudders. Best to not think of unpleasant things until they are upon him.

“Very well, please instruct the Lan Sect to break camp. Uncle, will you come with us?”

XingChen turns to Song Lan, and Wei Ying thinks that even after all these years, it is still eerie to see, how they seem to share a look of understanding.

“We are hunting,” XingChen says, “so our stay must be short.”

Wei Ying waves his hand, “I knew that much without being told. You are terrible uncles, both of you. I know you would not have come all the way to YiLing just for my birthday.”

The fond exasperation on their faces is now identical.

“Tell us what you are hunting,” Wei Ying grins, “Perhaps we can help.”

“Not what,” XingChen says, “but who.”

“A person?” Wei Ying exclaims in surprise, “an ordinary person?”

“There is nothing ordinary about this person,” Song Lan says, his expression turning hard, “So far, over three hundred people have been slaughtered by him. He has obliterated four villages and two small clans, leaving no one behind.”

Wei Ying feels a chill, “Who is he?”

“We do not know,” XingChen says, his calm edged with frustration, “He leaves no witnesses. One merchant, who had happened upon a village not long after everyone in it had been killed, spoke of seeing a young man, a boy, still alive. He could have been a lone survivor, or he could have been the perpetrator, but he was long gone by the time we arrived. So far, we have been following the trail of dead bodies across the Empire, but know little more than we did months ago.”

“You think he is here,” Lan Zhan asks, his discomfort seemingly forgotten, “In YiLing?”

“The trail had gone cold in LanLing,” Song Lan says, “but there was an incident between LanLing and YiLing, a group of bodies discovered in an old barn. The method by which they were killed was similar enough to bring us here.”

“I do not understand,” Wei Ying says slowly, “There are appropriate channels in place to deal with ordinary murders, even if they are beyond gruesome. What are you not telling me?”

Song Lan glances at XingChen again, but this time, XingChen ignores him, the twist of his mouth tight and unhappy.

“You know why the murders are occurring,” Lan Zhan says coldly, “There is a purpose to them.”

Lan Zhan’s expression is hard and determined, as if he means to shake them both until the information they are holding back flows forth. He looks grim, his spine straight, his fingers tightly wrapped around the sword. He looks dangerous. He looks regal.

Wei Ying feels his face tingle. There is an uncomfortable coil of heat building in his stomach at the sight, and he bites his tongue, hoping the flash of pain will stop the heat from spreading.

“Resentful energy,” Song Lan says.

XingChen looks even more unhappy now, but he does not make a move to stop Song Lan from speaking.

“We think he has found a way to harvest and store resentful energy.”

“Impossible,” Lan Zhan breathes, “even YanLing DaoRen himself could not--“ he cuts off abruptly, mouth snapping shut.

Wei Ying is still reeling from the information, not quite able to come up with the right words. But he immediately understands why Lan Zhan has fallen silent. YanLing DaoRen could not store resentful energy, but his failed attempts are the stuff of nightmares. Raving mad, he had threatened to shift rivers and level mountains once his experiments were complete. But in the end, the only place he had ever been able to store resentful energy was his own fragile human shell, which had rotted from inside out, unable to contain the power he craved.

Wei Ying clears his throat, “How can you be sure he has found a way to store it? Perhaps he is only following in YanLing DaoRen’s footsteps.”

Song Lan shakes his head, “Over three hundred people gruesomely slaughtered by him alone? Taking in that much resentful energy would have driven him mad. He could not have passed all this time unnoticed. The signs of his deterioration would be obvious to anyone who crosses his path. No,” he shakes his head, “I am afraid we must assume that he has succeeded where YanLing DaoRen has failed.”

“The greatest threat since YanLing DaoRen,” Lan Zhan says softly, “and you did not inform anyone. You did not send a word of warning to the Emperor.”

His voice is soft, but the grip on his sword is now so tight, that Wei Ying can see his fingers turning white from strain. He has seen Lan Zhan angry before, but never like this. This fury is cold, and devastating, and magnificent to behold.

“Did it not occur to you,” Lan Zhan says, “that he is heading towards YiLing for a reason? That the Emperor’s birthday festival in YiLing is precisely the sort of chaos in which he can be easily concealed? That hundreds of visitors are entering and exiting the Immortal Mountain City each day, being screened by ordinary guards who would never sense an object filled with resentful energy? Did it not occur to you that the Emperor is the most likely target of this creature, and that he should be warned?”

“WangJi,” XiChen’s voice comes from behind them, a gentle warning.

He moves to stand by Lan Zhan’s shoulder, a calming presence next to Lan Zhan’s cold fury.

“Please forgive my brother,” XiChen says, “he spoke in haste. He means no disrespect.”

Lan Zhan’s expression clearly states that he may have spoken in haste, but that the disrespect was meant and well deserved.

Wei Ying does not want Lan Zhan upset with uncle. He does not want Song Lan angry with Lan Zhan for disrespecting uncle. But he can do absolutely nothing about either of those things, because his mind is utterly preoccupied by the fact that Lan Zhan is dangerous, and beautiful, and incensed on his behalf.

Lan Zhan is afraid that this madman means to hurt Wei Ying. Lan Zhan is worried about him. Lan Zhan cares about him. Lan Zhan cares about him.

He feels his mouth trying to stretch into a smile, and curses himself six times over. Everyone around him is tense enough to draw swords, he should not be grinning like an idiot.

Lan Zhan cares about him!

“Your Majesty.”

XiChen is looking at him. There is something uncomfortably knowing in his gaze.

Wei Ying clears his throat, then does it again. He is afraid his voice will come out hoarse and obviously besotted.

“Lan Zhan is right,” he says, “I may be well protected, but every Sect Leader and Young Master in the Empire is currently residing at the Immortal Mountain. They may all be at risk. Why would you not send word?”

Song Lan has moved closer to XingChen, as if he means to protect him from Lan Zhan’s fierce gaze. He opens his mouth to speak, but XingChen silences him with a touch to the elbow.

“I believe the Young Master is correct,” XingChen sighs, “We were wrong to conceal it for so long. It has been a frequent subject of discord between us, this decision. But Song Lan does not understand the power dynamics at court. He does not understand the precarious balance involved in ruling all the Sects in the cultivation world. YanLing DaoRen’s name still invokes fear and mistrust. I was afraid-- I was afraid that the truth would sow panic. Worse, that it may give some of the Sects an opportunity they have long sought, to remove YanLing DaoRen’s bloodline from the seat of power, and take the throne for themselves.”

“We intended to catch him long before now,” Song Lan says roughly, “We could only be certain that he is heading in the direction of YiLing on the second day of the festival. The trail was days old by then.”

“I am sorry to have placed the Lan disciples at risk,” XingChen says softly, “but once we learned that you were wandering around YiLing on your own, unprotected, we used whatever means we had at our disposal.”

“I was not unprotected,” Wei Ying says absently, “Lan Zhan was with me.”

He spends a few moments preoccupied with the idea that the incidents at the Immortal Mountain and the man uncle is hunting must somehow be connected. But no matter how he turns the events over, he cannot see that they have anything in common. A man who had slaughtered over three hundred people in order to collect the resentful energy from their corpses does not seem like someone who would go through the trouble of coating Lan Zhan’s teacup with poison.

Still thinking so, he realizes that everyone else has fallen silent. Song Lan is frowning at Lan Zhan. Xiao XingChen is smiling softly, his head turned in the direction of the camp, as if privy to something amusing that only he can hear. XiChen is smiling softly too, his eyes trained in the opposite direction.

Lan Zhan is not smiling. He is staring at Wei Ying, his ears red, his expression somehow lost, as if Wei Ying had done something preposterous again.

Wei Ying is pretty sure he has not done anything to merit that expression.

“Lan Zhan?”

Lan Zhan shakes his head and looks away. Behind them, Nie MingJue clears his throat.

“Your Majesty, I do not mean to interrupt, but the Nie Sect is all accounted for, and the Lan Sect is ready as well. We should head back.”

Wei Ying nods. During all the fascinating revelations, he has managed to forget what waits for him at the Immortal Mountain.

He thinks he would rather face a mass-murdering madman than Madam Yu.

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weeklyfangirl · 4 years

Text

Frat Boy Pt. 22

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20, part 21

Hope everyone is keeping themselves mentally/physically well... here’s the next update in your adventure. Please safely read from home ;)

The sun moved slowly up my window, illuminating the dancing dust in the air. Even though I knew dust didn’t have feelings, it all still looked very peaceful, suspended there in space.

I wanted to be suspended, floating, with no obligations or pressures.

Instead, I watched time slip by, slowly, as the shadows stretched along my floor and I lay still, wrapped in a giant Winnie-the-Pooh sheets burrito.

I called in sick the past three days to work and to all my classes, my lack of attendance probably dropping me a letter grade in a few classes. Instead of checking on my academic scholarship, I begged Renny to drop off Dr. Rhinecuff’s papers for me. She did, lamenting about how his office smelled like roast beef and how she probably needed a nose job from it shrivelling up from the stench. Tired, I sent her three hearts, ignoring all of her calls and voicemails.

In a random bout of restless energy, I looked up the University of Oxford in England. No one would know me there. And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing when you didn’t even know yourself. I stayed on their site for an hour, avoiding my take-home assignments, and speculating which classes I could take in the spring semester. My eyes grew tired though, and even if I were accepted as a transfer student, it wasn’t like I could ever afford it without scholarships.

I closed the computer.

It’d been cloudy, rainy. The random storm that’d come in from Mexico lasted longer than the usual morning fog that’d roll in and out by the time it was 9 AM. This storm lingered, heavy, full clouds looking to burst and unleash a steady rain for three to four hours before the clouds rested, storing up all they could until the next downpour.

My parents didn’t question me when I came in, used to my random visits. But when I went straight to my room without saying hello, rain-plastered hair covering puffy eyes, my mom basically collapsed at the sight.

She followed me to the bed, trying to see my face, but I buried it in the pillow, ignoring the way the purple fringe tickled my nose.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?”

I just groaned. Her voice was too gentle, too well-intending for the dark thoughts sitting in my mind. She’d be heartbroken if she heard them.

She huffed, not out of annoyance, but distress. “What’s bothering you?? Is it Renny? Did you breakup with Harry?” All those reasons were too simple. She ran her hands lightly along my legs, but I cringed away from her touch. It was something I rarely did. She paused. “You can tell me anything...”

I shook my head against the pillow, my last attempt to tell her to leave without speaking. She waited a moment longer.

“Okay,” she said. And that was it.

Father didn’t ask questions, not even when I was here for the third consecutive day. Mom had probably come to her own conclusions, and shared them with him.

“Mom said you aren’t feeling too well,” he said over cereal one morning, confirming my suspicions. It was the first time he’d broken our three-day spree of comfortable silence.

“What else did she tell you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, his usual buoyant self replaced with a quiet voice. He looked at me, and all I saw was pity. If I were him, I’d probably look at me the same way. I hadn’t showered in a while. “Well don’t let anything get you down. You’re too smart for that.”

He’d tried. He’d put in an effort. I just nodded, scooping up another spoonful of cereal. He followed suit.

And that was that.

A week passed like this.

But overnight, the clouds had blown away, and the sun came back full-force this morning just in time for the weekend, renewing my guilt. That traitor.

I’d cried all of Monday and Tuesday, but when the last tear was shed in the middle of a New Girl episode, I was empty. My tears didn’t leave anything to replace them with.

On Wednesday, a phone alarm reminded me I had a therapy appointment. I hit snooze multiple times. It was only when I got up to pee, and I hated what I saw in the mirror that I threw on an oversized sweater to go over my pajamas and headed out the door.

“Is it good?” I asked.

Her hands reviewed my wants list.

“That’s just a coffee stain on the corner..just...ignore that bit,” I added.

She surveyed it briefly, not really focusing on it. “Were you honest?”

I nodded.

“Then there isn’t good or bad. It’s just your truth.”

“But I still feel… I don’t know. I don’t think I know what that is. I don’t feel like I’m… progressing. Doing anything towards that,” I said.

She looked at me with a level gaze. “Then that’s your truth. And that’s okay for right now.”

I shot her a glance.

“I see a common struggle with people your age. They feel this….” -She adjusted, quirking her head- “immense pressure to be perfect, to figure it all out, to achieve success so early.”

“Everyone’s doing it,” I began. “They’re getting internships, keeping up their grades, involved in ten clubs, doing community service…” I could’ve droned on, but didn’t.

“You have an internship, your grades are good, you’ve joined a sorority, and up until recently you’ve been involved in tutoring. Those are extracurriculars.”

I couldn’t argue with her.

“Is it too much?” she asked.

Too much. It was everything I’d been feeling until I’d felt nothing. But hearing her list off what was waiting for me just beyond her doors made me feel the weight of it all over again.

“I’ve just been overwhelmed.”

“Who have you been thinking about?”

She noticed I started picking my hangnail.

She started gently, knowingly. “Has it been Harry?”

“Ow,” I cursed. A bit of blood prickled up where the hangnail used to be.

“He seems to be a major stressor in your life. Would you agree?” The clock ticked behind her, filling the silence. Her hands rested in her lap, while mine swiped away the bit of blood. I could never remember my therapist’s name, but somehow it wasn’t important.

“Yeah, but … I mean …. there’s a lot of stressors.”

“Like his friends?”

His friends, in the abbreviated story I’d told her, stood in place for the gang. I’d used terms like … intimidating, mean, basically painting them as bullies who didn’t like us together. I wasn’t expecting to get much therapy from a lie. “Out of curiosity, if I were to tell you something… would you be obligated to report it to the police?”

“Not necessarily.” Her legs crossed, creased brows zeroing in with a laser focus. “Has something happened to you, Y/N?”

I swallowed hard, the truth lodged in my throat. But I had gotten too used to the weight of the secret. “I was just curious…” My mind raced to change the subject, and I blurted about Zayn’s art show.

“Do you think this panic attack was induced by this heightened sense of scrutiny from Harry’s friends?”

“Probably.”

“You said there were others. What are your main stressors?’

I settled in, more comfortable with this question. “There’s financial stressors, for one. And it’s exasperated here.”

“You’ve been dealing with financial difficulties for a while, now. Have you been feeling this anxious the entire time, or has it been recent?”

My foot tapped impatiently. We both knew the answer.

“Your panic attack was a first,” she explained, gently. “Some new factor in your life pushed you there.”

I picked at the hangnail, wincing. It was gone. My skin was raw.

“Maybe it all links back to Harry.” She waited a moment to see if I’d speak. When I didn’t, she leant back, and pulled out a new sheet of paper, scribbling something down. “I want you to write a pros and cons list about your relationship with him, for next time. When your feelings are overwhelming, it helps to get everything on paper. In a list. Puts things in perspective.”

I drove home, her words had pushed themselves into my empty shell and now they clinked around, jostling up my insides like a pinball machine and giving me a headache.

Just because I hadn’t left the house all week didn’t mean I didn’t feel guilty for ditching work. God, I did. It killed me. I knew I was lucky to get that internship. Harry had mentioned how people killed just to get on the waitlist, and I didn’t doubt it. An OC internship with, if not the top, at least the most publicized private practice? I mean, I was typing in appointments next to a Southern Stanford grad if that speaks to the competition here.

And here I was, retreating back to my house, too drained to face the world.

As for Harry, after what I’d said to him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to talk to me ever again.

I’d been so cruel.

I was weak.

I felt guilty for feeling this way at all.

And then I would watch the dust again.

It was a cycle.

About three blocks from my house on my way back from the therapist session, a familiar car passed me. It happened suddenly, unexpectedly, like most things do. We made eye contact before he passed, and my foot instantly lifted off the gas when my eyes connected with my brain. I whipped my head around but the matte black maserati sped up, disappearing from sight.

What was Harry doing this far from campus?

My heart beat erratically as I pulled into the driveway, and it was only seconds before I made it into the house. Father held up a hand in Grandpa’s old room. Phone call. Trudging silently to my own, I wrapped myself in a blanket burrito.

I’d been avoiding my phone, but I caved this time, checking J’s social media to see if he’d posted anything about being in the area to prove I WASN’T crazy and DIDN’T just hallucinate. Nothing. I tossed my phone on the other side of the room before I spiralled.

It didn’t matter. I was in my room. Alone. Safe. I focused on the dust.

Two little knocks disrupted my exciting mind game - which dust particle would fall further than the other.

“You’re turning ripe,” Father noted. His briefcase was still in his hand and he was coming startlingly close to my depression burrito.

“What are you doing-!?” I protested. But it was too late. He ripped the sheets off, exposing me in the t-shirt I’d been in since Monday. “Your mood won’t change if you don’t make an effort.

Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’re coming to the water with me.” He hesitated at the door. “Shower first.”

In the car, a sense of comfort washed over me. He’d been right. Clean wet hair smelled nice and felt good slicked around my head. Even if Mom would complain I’d “catch cold,” it felt good to feel something. Dad’s speakers switched between classic rock and reggaeton as I sipped on the chocolate shake we picked up from the Shake Shack. It was a short drive away to the harbor, and once parked, a shorter walk to the public docks.

Our feet dangled above the water. It was too cold to go swimming this time of year, but my body buzzed with yearning despite the goosebumps on my skin. I wanted to feel encompassed by salty water. I wanted to be submerged, where everything was muted, a barrier between me and the world. Between my wet hair and the icy shake, I could pretend my body was as cool as the water below me. I could just…. dissolve.

“So what’s going on?” he opened up the conversation. “You having a hard time at school?”

“I don’t like the sorority.”

His brows raised, not expecting me to be so honest so soon. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, don’t you hate that shit?”

I looked at him, almost shocked he’d agreed with me.

The boats squeaked as they rocked with the rolling tides coming in from the ocean. I watched as a duffy boat wandered to the end of the jetty - where the harbor opened to the ocean. I took another big gulp of my shake, feeling the cold run down, freezing my esophagus.

“I liked frats, but sororities are different,” he mumbled, spooning his shake into his mouth. He’d gotten his usual Neapolitan, and it’d somehow stayed solid on the drive over. We hadn’t been to the Shake Shack in years, but I guess seeing his daughter waste away beneath her comforter was enough to break the dry spell.

“Why? Because its girls?” My lips were breaking into a smile without my consent. He didn’t make sense.

“They’re more catty.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Dad! That’s verging on sexist.”

“Eh, I don’t know. I’m just saying things. Did you tell Mom you want to quit?”

I shook my head.

“Yeah…” he looked out at the boats, a quiet understanding passing between us. “She was really excited for you to join.”

“It’s not all bad…”

“Well if it’s not making you happy, don’t do it. Your mom doesn’t want you doing anything you don’t want to do. I was in a frat to shoot the shit with friends and it was something fun to do instead of study. If it’s not something fun for you, drop it.”

I could hear the words he was telling me, but it was like they were rolling off my shoulders, not really penetrating. He made it sound so easy, but it seemed like it was a million times harder than that. Everything was entangled, just as Harry had said. Not to mention Renny. If I quit, I felt like I’d lose her forever, too. I knew I could use a better friend, but that couldn’t erase the years of memories we had together. Losing Renny would feel like losing a part of myself. Not that I knew who that was anymore.

“Dad?” I asked. The question that'd weighed on my mind ever since I got home rested on the tip of my tongue.

“Yeah?”

“This is going to sound weird, but did you see Harry today?”

“Yeah. He stopped by,” he said, casually, spooning another mouthful.

I practically choked. “What? Why?! Weren’t you going to tell me?”

“Y/N, I’m working. I have a thousand things bouncing around in my head all the time.”

“And?!!?”

Harry couldn’t reach out to me beforehand? He drove by but- what? Didn’t even want to see me?

He sighed, not understanding the urgency. “He just stopped by, said hi. That’s all.”

My brows stitched. “Why would he say hi to you? What’d he say, exactly?”

“Oh, come on, I don’t know. I can’t remember-”

“Dad!”

“All right, all right. Hi, how are you…” -his brain tried to remember- “he asked if you were doing okay. Then he left. He was nearby for a family brunch or something.”

“He asked about me?”

“Yeah. I mean, he didn’t go on and on, he just asked a question. He was in a rush.”

The shake froze me from the inside, and the breeze froze me from the out. But while I shriveled into myself, my guilt grew. “Dad?”

He hummed.

“Why are people so fake?”

He looked out at the harbor, peaceful for a winter’s morning. Only one small fishing boat headed towards the harbor’s edge, the sole fisherman at the helm facing the wind with the grace of a husband dealing with a temperamental spouse.

Father looked to our shoes as a random swell came, the water rising perilously close to our soles. Then, with all the untapped wisdom I seldom remembered parents had, “People are fake because they don’t know who they are,” he said.

He got a call from the restaurant and drove us home.

In bed the next day, I ignored the pros/cons assignment, watching New Girl and making collages of Oxford in a word document until my eyes were burning from blue light exposure. I knew I was pushing it staying this long away from school, away from my problems. I was pushing myself, seeing how far my apathy could go. I woke up Thursday night at 2 AM from the rain pouring against my shutter and anger pricking my insides.

Harry was the reason I was in this position. As well as Viv, who fucked Harry. And Kiki, who gave me a DG Pretty Please, that just so happened to involve Harry.

I wanted him, but I wanted him to fuck off. Nothing was changing. Nothing was getting better.

It was all Harry, Harry, Harry, and no matter what, I ended up feeling insane.

At one point, I was going to have to choose myself.

I rolled over, blindly reaching for a pen, and scribbled in the dark.

If my therapist wanted a list, she’d get one helluva list.

-----------

“I’m glad you’re going, honey.” Mom released me from the lung-crushing hug.

I’d created enough Oxford collages and daydreamed about a new life until I couldn’t think of any other imaginary scenarios (or postpone collegiate life any longer).

The Friday sun had set. The game had already started. I thought about the crowd, all the people I’d see…

“Can I just stay the weekend?”

“Oh.” Her arms dropped from my sides. “Didn’t you promise your friends that you’d go?”

Renny. I’d promised Renny. Singular friend. My hand was in a fist, thumb rubbing anxiously over my fingers. I didn’t listen to her voicemails, there were seven of them. But she’d texted me fifty times in the past twenty minutes, declaring that she’d Venmo me gas money if I’d come to the game.

I’d been in my hole long enough.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, you COULD stay-”

I broke away, shaking my head. If I let her coddle me another minute, I think I’d crumble all over again.

“I love you,” she reminded me. “You’re my precious angel.”

From the living room, the muffled applause from the game show Father had fallen asleep to faded further as I left.

Momma’s robe-bundled frame waved on the driveway, her sad smile burning in my mind long after she disappeared from view.

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

Come on, come on, come ON.

The path to the stadium took forever. No shame, I was full-on running, braless, fresh pit-stains on display as I booked it to the gate.

It was completely dark now, and the usual fleet of cop cars seemed to have all but disappeared the week I’d been gone. Only one passed me by, and the rest of the student body probably all congregated around the stadium.

When I saw the art studio, I slowed. It was completely dark, except for one entry light. The paintings would still be displayed... My pounding heart told me to keep running, and I hesitated, listening to it for a moment before walking to the door. I tugged on its metal handles, parts of me seizing up as it opened, giving way to my touch.

I crept into the space, feeling like an intruder as I walked through the exhibit.

For some reason, I expected it to look differently, to see it blurred together as I’d seen it before in a panic.

I was still hanging amidst the vines, but this time the paintings looked less threatening. Maybe it was the fact that I was alone, maybe it was because I’d already felt the worst of it.

Each piece was sold.

I looked over my shoulder a couple times before letting out a small shout. A tester.

It echoed in the space.

I did it again, louder, at my full about-to-be-murdered capacity.

I must’ve looked absolutely mental, but as I heard my shout reverberate around me, at least I felt something.

Five charcoal sketches in particular ran horizontally together.

Lust / Longing / Love / Lost / Loss

Had he seen all of this in me? He’d certainly seen other bits I hadn’t shown him.

My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out. Renny. Without thought, I started her stream of voicemails.

Y/N where the FUCK are you!? Zayn’s concerned and I’m concerned and you’re not in the room-

Next.

Are you really sick? Or is this just some BS excuse. Or is this real and Harry gave you tonsilitis or something. I want to hear your voice. Ilyyyyy.

Next.

It’s meeeeee. Niall’s busy and you’re sick and I don’t know what to dooooo. Housewives isn’t as fun without-

Next.

BABE WHY AREN’T YOU ANSWERING ME CALLS DO YOU HATE ME, AND YES I MEANT TO SAY ME INSTEAD OF MY I HOPE YOU’RE LAUGHING-

Next.

DUDE. You will not believe what just happened- Harry just stopped by.

My thumb paused, letting it stay.

I was avoiding his texts because I think he’s a dick. Well, he IS a dick, even if Niall said he was going through a lot. It’s still not an excuse. But Harry LEGIT found me on campus, like not even when I was with Niall at the house, but at our APARTMENT...I-hold on. Ew, pastrami professor just passed me. What are the odds? OKAY BUT SERIOUSLY, I almost punched him when I opened the door because remember last time he basically told me off. But… I don’t know. It was different this time. He seemed… so concerned. Frazzled. I don’t even know the word to describe it. Ugh, if you were here you would be able to TELL ME what the word is. I miss you. Come back.

The voicemail rolled into the next.

I’m just pretending to talk on the phone right now because the boy I hooked up with last year is staring me THE FUCK down right now-

A creak in the pipes startled me, and the voicemail was all but forgotten.

My heart beat fast.

It was very, very quiet.

With one noise in the dark, the art pieces turned menacing. An oil painting in the corner of the room morphed into the Styles’ portrait. It wasn’t here. It couldn’t be here. I squinted, blinking through the dark. The portrait I thought I’d seen was just a painting of two silhouetted men facing each other. My heart still beat like I’d just ran a marathon though. I wasn’t about to be a part of the next horror movie “art comes alive.”

I booked it out faster than I came, answering Renny’s call on the way.

---------

“Thank fucking finally,” Renny huffed, leaning over Lynn to draw me in a hug.

“You didn’t miss much,” Lynn said, looking past me towards the game. I sat on Renny’s other side so she was in the middle, but when I looked at the scoreboard - Home, zero. Guest, two - I knew it was a done deal. Some people had already left, but half the stadium was still here, either hoping for a miraculous recovery or refusing to put their tails between their legs for pride’s sake. I noticed a group of parents in Chapman gear huddled together, waving their flags. No Mary or Lionel Styles in sight.

“How’s he been?” I asked. It’s like my head already knew where to turn, because as soon as I looked to the field, I found him. On the bench, elbows on his knees, head bent over.

“How’ve YOU been?” Renny asked. “I was seriously about to drive over to your house and check on you.”

Someone beat you to it. The thought was sour. For as much as Renny could claim her undying love for me, I was struggling to see the actions to support it. Everyone was disappointing.

“He’s been playing like shit,” Lynn answered.

“Brought back some...” His sentence died. Of all people, Zayn stood there, stopped, popcorn in hand. “Hey, Y/N.”

Felix stood behind Zayn, giving me a small wave. Zayn was clearly waiting for me to make the first move, but I turned away to the field. I didn’t know what to say.

From my peripheral, I saw them sit down by Lynn.

As soon as he did, it hit me like a flashfood. I knew what I was feeling. Anger. Discomfort. Shame. That he could expose me so easily, that he’d looked through my clothes in a way I never permitted. That he could sit down so comfortably without apologizing, as if nothing had happened.

Renny leaned in. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

She flinched at the abrupt answer. “Do you want to leave?”

I stopped myself from saying yes. I didn’t want to have to climb over Zayn to get out of here. That would be more than uncomfortable.

“No, I’ll tell you later.”

I didn’t speak the rest of the game, pretending not to hear him cheer or laugh or make a snide remark to Felix every other second. Like the annoying click of a fan when you’re trying to fall asleep, Zayn’s every move made anger shake my bones. Lynn gave me sympathy looks every once in a while. It wasn’t like me to be this quiet, and even with our friendship being as new as it was, she knew that much.

The crowd didn’t roar this time. They were silent as the clock hit zero, staring blatantly at its twin beneath Home. The Guest team’s few Minnesota supporters jumped like little beans on the other side of the field, but their cries were faint.

We’d lost.

Everyone stood, and Renny linked her arm with mine. A familiar habit. “We’re going to Viv’s for some post-game depression drinks now.”

But I stopped her.

“I think I want to go back to the room,” I winced.

“Come on, PLEASE? It’ll be fun, you were barely here for the game.”

“I don’t know, depression and Viv in the same sentence… You really know how to sell a party.”

��“Aren’t you coming, Y/N?” Lynn made moves to follow the rest of the crowd that was funneling out of the stands.

I shook my head at the same time Renny nodded hers.

She huffed. “Why not? It’s going to be chill. We lost. It’s not going to be like the usual ragers.” She popped her hip, completely deadpanned. “You haven’t seen another college-aged person in a week.”

“Yeah and there’s a reason for that.”

Concern washed over her, voice lowering. “Tell me.”

As if on cue, Zayn and Felix stopped their descent down the bleachers and looked up at the girls, waiting for them to join. It was all I could do to not scream at them.

“Later,” I said. “You’re leaving now.”

“I don’t have to leave right now, it’s not starting yet...” Renny began, but Lynn gave her a look that said yes, they were leaving now.

“She wants us to help set-up,” Lynn explained.

“But it’s a small thing, right?” I teased Renny.

My bestie rolled her eyes, lips pinching. “Are you SURE?”

I nodded, sitting down on the cool metal bleacher again. Renny took a step towards me, a sad look on her face, but I held up my hand.

“I’m fine,” I said, when I felt anything but. “I just want to wait until the crowd leaves.” I picked up the popcorn bag she’d left behind and threw a handful in my mouth with a cheesy, hopefully convincing grin.

She grimaced, briefly looking back to Lynn who was anxiously waiting. “Fine. But we’re still talking about this later. I friggin miss you.”

She left with the others, funneling out towards a party she’d probably stay at until the early morning.

I didn’t want to go back to the room. I didn’t want to go anywhere.

The lights were so bright on soccer fields. Bugs flew in and around, racing each other faster than the dust in my room. It wasn’t until the janitors walked past me that I realized I’d been sitting there for too long. I reached in the popcorn bag, but my hand came up empty. They’d gone overboard on the salty butter, but somehow, I’d still managed to eat all of it.

Even with everyone off the field though, I didn’t feel alone. An older Hispanic woman taking out the trash saw me walking down and opened up the bag.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling.

She just smiled in return, nodding her head as she continued down the aisle.

Leaving the field’s gates, I was prepping for another mini run-for-my-life-and-back-to-the-dorm anxiety episode, when I heard someone shuffling. There were faint groaning noises, and I sped up my pace.

For a flash second, I thought someone was winning the “sleep in the locker room” bet, but when I tossed my head-back mid-run, I stopped so quickly, I almost tripped.

“Harry?”

There, in the dark, barely concealed by the shadows, he stumbled out. His abdomen looked… glossy? But then the light reflected crimson.

I ran to him as he fell, his white jersey stained with blood. “Oh my God, oh my God…” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. “What happened?! Are you okay!?”

He pushed me back. “M’fine.” But his voice was strained. He stumbled again, and I reached out before he fell.

I thought the blood from his shirt had fallen from a bloody nose, but his hand moved to my arm in a vice-like grip, revealing a gash in his jersey, I saw more liquid pool out from his gut and I almost gagged.

“You are BEYOND fine. You aren’t fucking fine!!”

“We have to leave. Have to… get out of here.” He grimaced. His face, his beautifully chiselled face was swollen on one side, his lip cut from impact.

“Okay. OKAY. I need to call the cops. The cops. I’m going to call them.” Shaky hands took out the cellphone, but he threw it down. “HARRY!”

“Take me to the physical therapy room?”

I looked at his chest. “You’re bleeding. A LOT.” My free arm reached for the tossed phone, but he tugged me back.

“No. They’ll write a report. I can’t have a-” he winced, sucking in a breath, and I reached for the phone again. “DON’T. Fucking hell. Don’t call anyone.”

My eyes racked his frame again, and I immediately applied pressure to his ab area, right where the gash was. He sucked in a breath, unleashing a string of curses I couldn’t hear right now. “Oh my God,” I breathed.

“Answer me,” he growled.

My mind scrambled for his question… he wanted me to take him to the physical therapy room. “YES! Yes. I have the- fuck, yes, I know where the keys are.” I looked at him again. What the FUCK.

“Stop freaking out,” he grunted, but he weakened the next second, his eyes fluttering before coming back to me.

“Okay, hold on. Hold onto me. Keep applying pressure.”

The physical therapy room wasn’t too far, bits of blood that’d fallen to his shoes marking our path.

“Why aren’t all the cops here?”

“They’re on rotation. The parties... they’llbestationedthere-JESUS.” We paused, letting him catch his breath. But it was shallow. Too shallow.

“Can you wait here for a second?” I asked.

He nodded, resting against a lamp post.

I hurried to the lockbox located behind the planter, punching in the code and unlocking it at lightning’s speed.

I didn’t know if there were cameras. I didn’t know if this was illegal.

I didn’t care.

We made it through the doors, and he was just about to sit on the table when-

“WAIT!” I ran to grab several rags and laid it beneath him before heaving him up. The soft cry he made when sitting down was like a knife through my own chest.

I grabbed scissors, cutting his t-shirt. I didn’t have time to linger, I didn’t have time to notice the way his tattoos were completely concealed by a red current. There were two wounds. One, deeper, the other, more shallow. Both in the lower left abdomen, just above a prominent v-line.

I wiped around the area, pausing above the gashes. “This is going to sting,” I warned.

There wasn’t fear in his eyes. He watched me, and I, him, as I pressed it against the open skin. He trembled, wincing, mouth opening in silent exclamation.

“You’re doing good,” I whispered.

“So are you,” he gritted out.

I swallowed, reaching for the butterfly bandages. But as soon as I did, more blood rushed out. I held a rag to him. “Save your breath. You need it.”

The thin white bandages seemed too little in the wake of his wound, and just as one bandage was placed, he cringed away, regretting his decision to move almost immediately.

“Fucking hurts,” he groaned.

“Stop moving! I need to close the wound up. You’re bleeding too much.”

“Y/N, just take me home. Call Lionel,” he panted.

“I’m calling 911 if you don’t let me at least attempt to close this wound because if we leave now you’ll bleed out.”

“You’ve done enough, please-”

“STOP. TALKING. I’ll call him after.” He saw a flame behind my eyes, and quieted, too weak to protest much more anyway. I came closer, and this time he didn’t flinch. The butterfly bandages at least minimally shrunk the open gouges.

With no other choice, I left him there alone, running across campus to my car and driving back in less than five minutes. It was illegal to drive through student walkways, let alone drive 60 mph, but there wasn’t a choice. I kept picturing Harry passing out, his limp God-like body, turned mortal, weak, bleeding out all over the training room floor. My foot hit the gas pedal harder. I could’ve been a damn marathon winner/race car driver. Let the cops add “speeding” to the file they already had on me.

Once we were both in the car, I looked over at him every two seconds. An entire roll of tight gauze around his abdomen kept the wound from bleeding out, but it was still turning pink. It was the second time blood would have been on my car.

Of all the revenge daydreams I’d had, I would’ve settled for Harry seeing me make out with Andre on the dancefloor over THIS. Would he die in my car? Would I be responsible?? I looked at the cheesy Angel pin my mom had given me for my car mirror. Never Fly Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly. Where was my angel now??

“Where are we going?” He asked, between fading in and out.

“To your house.”

His hand grabbed mine on the wheel and I practically swerved into the center divider from shock.

“HARRY!”

“We need to go to my house,” he said suddenly, panicked, as if I’d told him the opposite.

I placed our interlocked hands above the console. A safe distance away from the wheel in case he lurched again.

“Don’t worry, we’re going there. We’re going to your house. You’re just in shock, it’s okay,” I cooed, but it was desperate. And it was definitely not okay.

“They’ll ask… less..less questions...”

His grip was unbearably tight for three long seconds before it relaxed.

“Stay with me. Stay awake,” I urged. Harry’s lids kept drooping and I was desperate, blasting the Air Conditioning to an uncomfortable temperature.

Lionel picked up on the second ring.

“It’s Y/N. I think Harry’s been stabbed-”

“What?!”

“- I told him we should call the cops, but he was adamant we call you instead.”

“Seal the wound with whatever you can-”

“I did that. Not well, we didn’t have wound sealant- Okay, I’m rambling. I don’t know what to do, but he needs to see a doctor. Immediately.”

There was a long pause.

“Hello?” my voice wavered.

“Bring him to the practice.” The voice over the other line was that of a doctor, matter-of-fact, somber.

Hoag Hospital passed me, a nagging thought telling me that’s where we should be going - where there was paperwork, evidence, some legitimate accountability. But I wasn’t his father. I wasn’t responsible.

“On my way. I’m getting off the freeway now.”

The call ended, and as I looked at Harry, fading dangerously out of consciousness, my hands trembled more from fear than cold. Out of all the reactions, I hadn’t expected this one. The voice on the other line hadn’t seemed surprised at all.

come talk to me about the chappie or just about how you’re doing! now’s the time to stay connected :)

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haikyuuvbc · 3 years

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December Birthdays: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

A/N: Happy Birthday, Akaashi!

This fic is NOT a part of the Do You Comma Here Often SMAU series. I wanted to write a fic about Akaashi’s birthday (Dec. 5th) and it doesn’t fit into the DYCHO series timeline (unfortunate, but I digress).

Here’s some fluff. Enjoy!

People with December birthdays, Akaashi Keiji believes, typically get the short end of the stick. Even though his birthday is towards the beginning of the month, it was normally overshadowed by all the winter holidays. He didn’t mind, really, at least not now as an adult. He learned growing up that he liked being in the shadows for the most part. Letting other people take the attention and observing from the distance. This worked well with Bokuto as his best friend who just naturally drew everyone’s attention with his boisterous and genuine attitude and demeanor. Truly, Akaashi never really minded this. That was, until you came along.

The first time you and Akaashi spent his birthday together was a couple months after you had started dating. Akaashi approached it in his normal stoic manner, not expecting anything out of habit. This is why it surprised him when he woke up to you knocking on his door at 7:00am on his birthday, a drink carrier with your favorite coffee and his in one hand, and a gigantic tote bag filled to the brim in the other. Your boyfriend’s eyes widen as he takes in your presence, unconsciously reaching out to take the contents of your hands from you and letting you into the apartment in the process.

“Y/N, what are you doing here so early?” The question escapes him in a slightly incredulous tone. You give him a wide smile, eyes sparkling, and stand on your tip-toes to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Keiji.” After kissing his cheek you walk around to the large tote bag he had taken from your grasp and start digging through it. “I figured that if I had stayed up until midnight that I wouldn’t be the first one to wish you a happy birthday, so I decided I would be the first one to say it in person.” You make eye contact again, this time with a smiling Akaashi.

“You really didn’t have to, you know I don’t really dwell on my birthday that much.”

“I do know that, but I wanted to. Besides, even if you don’t make a fuss about turning another year older, I’m going to. That’s one of the good things about dating me,” you send him this cheeky remark and your boyfriend lets out a chuckle.

“There are a lot of amazing things about dating you, Y/N. I’m a very lucky man.” He walks back over to you and places a kiss on the crown of your head as you’re searching through the tote bag. “What are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for… this!” An exclamation leaves your mouth as you hold up a puzzle. The man in front of you cocks his head to the side to look at the design on the box. It looked like a newspaper, one that his parents would read every morning.

“Look at the date,” you explain. “It’s the day you were born. It’s the actual front page of the newspaper the day you were born.”

Although Akaashi is not a talkative person, it was due to choice, not necessity. But, here, at 7:11am in his kitchen, in his pajama pants and shirt, the newly 25 year old man is speechless. You’ve learned to adapt to these moments of silence, knowing that his mind is processing, you respect that. Eventually, your boyfriend of a few months finally speaks.

“I love it.” You give him a smile and begin pulling out more things from your bag, leading Akaashi to wonder how much you had in there. The tote bag held a half dozen bagels with cream cheese, popcorn, the newest season of My Hero Academia (Akaashi’s favorite anime at the moment), and a neatly wrapped orange present the size of a shoe box. He moves to the kitchen table to begin clearing off the paperwork to make room for the puzzle. The room fell into silence again, for a good reason. He had mentioned early on in your relationship that he was never fussy about his birthday because of its proximity to Christmas and other winter holidays. Akaashi assured you in his calm voice that it was not an issue and that he was used to it. He realizes that you put that in your mind, making note of it. He realizes that you intentionally are going out of your way to make this feel like his birthday - no connection to Christmas or anything else. It’s a day to celebrate him. A smile graces his face at this thought. You were meticulous in making sure he hadn’t decorated for any holiday yet, you chose wrapping paper that was birthday oriented (the gift was a new set of pens he's been wanting), and you grabbed the normal year round favorite coffee besides the seasonal ones that he knows you love. There is no mention of shopping for presents, plans for the holidays, or excitement over upcoming vacations. It’s simply a day full of you two putting together the puzzle, watching anime, and video-chatting with his family and friends.

At the end of the day, Akaashi had asked if you wanted to sleep over. Since it was a Saturday, you agreed. It was unlike any other December 5th he had ever experienced for which Akaashi was entirely grateful With you snuggled up next to him, arms wrapped around his body, head laying on his chest as you take in the strange dynamic between Midoriya and Bakugo, the man felt warm, comfortable, and happy.

Akaashi Keiji may have always been complacent about his birthday, his nonchalance convincing the other people in his life to approach it at the same level of indifference, but he has a feeling that will not be the case anymore, not as long as you're around. And he intends to have you around for as long as possible.

Back to Full Masterlist

#Akaashi x reader #Akaashi x y/n #Akaashi x you #Haikyuu #Haikyuu!!#Haikyuu fanfiction

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alj4890 · 3 years

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Delicate

(Olivia Nevarkis x Ethan Ramsey) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crossover crack series.

Song Inspiration: Delicate

A/N This series will focus more on the relationships Olivia has with both friends and potential love interests. Since I was never a med student, I won’t try to write too many medical situations, LOL. The reason Olivia goes to Boston is more of a McGuffin of sorts. I needed a reason to have her truly see what it is she wants in her life.

Masterlist

Prologue

The bar was not as crowded as Olivia expected. Pausing in the doorway to allow her eyes to adjust to the low light, she searched the few lingering patrons for the one who had invited her.

Nothing had surprised her more than receiving the invitation.

Well, maybe not more than another invitation she had once received.

And yet...this was different. So completely different.

Stepping up to the bar, she took a steadying breath, irritated that she had allowed herself to hope that this might be the right time to have her old dream again.

Was it so foolish to want to be married and have a family? Everyone else was expected to. Why not her? She would need an heir for Lythikos after all.

Maybe she could be the Nevarkis that actually had children because she wants to be a mother. Not for Cordonia. Not for the duchy. Just, have someone all her own. Someone who she could love without worry of it not being reciprocated.

"What can I get for you?" The bartender asked.

She blinked and refocused.

"I'll have a whiskey sour."

Grimacing at ordering something tied to too many memories, she quickly spoke up.

"Wait! I'll have a glass of Merlot."

"I thought you might be a red wine person."

Olivia turned around and tilted her head back.

Ethan smiled at her. "I was hoping you would take me up on meeting here."

"You said there was something important we needed to discuss." She steeled herself for disappointment. "You haven't changed your mind about the research hospital, have you?"

Ethan set his glass down. "Another scotch, please, Reggie."

"You got it." Reggie handed Olivia her wine glass while reaching for the bottle Ethan preferred.

"Top shelf." She muttered, recognizing the label.

"Pretentious, isn't it?" Ethan teased.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. "Surprisingly, it isn't. It shows you have taste."

Ethan took his glass back and told Reggie to put both their drinks on his tab.

"Let's find somewhere to sit."

Olivia followed him out the backdoor to a lighted patio.

They were completely alone.

"There usually isn't anyone out here on a Wednesday night." Ethan explained.

They sat down near a fire pit and waited for the other to bring up what was needed to be discussed.

Olivia silently studied Ethan in the glow of the firelight. His features appeared harsh with the shadows. His eyes seemed to glow when they briefly cut her way.

He cradled his glass between his hands while staring at its contents.

Never one for putting off the inevitable, Olivia shifted in her chair. "What is it?"

His blue eyes raised to hers. "It isn't anything to do with the hospital."

She relaxed somewhat. "Good. I was worried you weren't coming to Cordonia."

"It does involve that." He admitted.

"I don't understand."

"Liv, I am attracted to you." Ethan responded.

She stilled. "Attracted? In what way?"

"In every way."

"Is this your roundabout way of telling me you want me but will do nothing about it?" Olivia's eyes narrowed. "Because I have had those conversations in the past."

"I intend to act on it." Ethan set his glass down.

"You intend to..." Her eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that given my history and from what you have shared of yours," he ran a hand through his hair, "I think I should be up front about it." He reached for one of her hands. "I'm not going to take a chance and sit on the sidelines just to watch some bolder man steal you away."

Olivia's lips parted.

Ethan wants me. He admitted it. To me.

"Since I plan on starting out as I intend to go, all with blunt honesty so there is no misunderstanding," he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles, "I would like to take you to dinner tomorrow night." His eyes held hers. "I'm asking you out on a date."

He's nothing like Drake, she thought.

"I," Olivia licked her dry lips, trying to calm her excited thoughts so that she could answer. She couldn't recall when a man had ever asked her for a date.

This would be her first real date.

"I would love to." She felt her lips curving at Ethan's smile flahsing. "What time should I expect you?"

"Seven." He stood up and tugged her out of her seat.

One hand settled on her cheek while the other still held her hand.

His eyes drifted across her face, taking in the delicate features that made one surprised at the immense strength they hid at first glance.

Olivia waited with baited breath at whether or not he would kiss her.

She closed her eyes as his lips pressed an achingly tender kiss to her cheek.

"Let's get you home." Ethan murmured. He couldn't help the smile that seemed determined to remain on his face. "I can't wait for tomorrow night."

"Neither can I." She smiled back, thankful no one was around to see her like this.

After bidding her a goodnight at her door with another sweet kiss to her cheek, Olivia quickly changed and got into bed.

Once she had thought through how tomorrow night might go, her mind decided to dredge up the past.

**************

The Royal Palace, Cordonia, six months ago...

"...and then I plan to have Morgana and Merlin..."

Olivia tuned out Penelope's conversation. The effort to keep a pretended interest wasn't worth it. She began to scan the crowd for anything more interesting.

She had begun to tire of the endless round of balls and dinners. If it wasn't for her affection for Liam and Riley, she would have made up an excuse that she was needed in Lythikos.

Well, that, and a certain someone was swaying her into staying in the capital.

"Olivia?"

"Hmm?"

Kiara and Penelope both had expectant expressions on their faces.

"What do you think?" Penelope asked again.

"Oh, that is..." She took a gulp of her drink, "that is...something to think about."

"It really is!" Penelope exclaimed. "I've spent weeks trying to decide on..."

Olivia zoned out again.

Feeling the hairs raise on the back of her neck, she turned toward the source.

Her green eyes clashed with a pair of hooded brown.

A barely perceptible tilt of Drake's head had her excusing herself from the people she wasn't listening to.

Winding her way toward the the doors that opened to the back courtyard, she silently thanked her past unfriendly self for helping her avoid being called into more conversations.

Within a minute or two, she was outside breathing in the balmy sea breeze of the capital.

Another few minutes went by before a familiar hand encircled her waist, guiding her deeper into the shadows.

Without a word spoken, Drake pressed his lips to hers.

Normally, she would participate, taking pleasure from pushing him into a wild frenzy of clothes being ripped off.

But tonight...she wasn't sure this was what she wanted.

Olivia wanted more. Not more of the same. Something different. Something evolving. Passion intertwined with more heartfelt emotions. Or something that caused a new kind of passion.

She hated this uncertainty that had plagued her recently. The sneaking around she and Drake had been doing for close to a year was beginning to annoy her.

Olivia had started to yearn for what her friends had.

Liam and Riley were happily married with plans to begin their family.

Hana and Rashad had announced their engagement.

Amanda had spent the last few years dividing her life with living in both Hollywood and Cordonia with her husband.

Even Maxwell had begun a serious relationship recently with a New York artist.

Olivia felt like she was the only one not moving forward. Shouldn't she have something other than an annulled marriage to show for her years of social seasons?

Shouldn't Drake make a stand? Demand that they take their relationship to a more personal level rather than remaining illicit lovers?

Hadn't she overheard Riley saying that Drake wanted a simple life with a family of his own?

Couldn't he have that with me?

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

"What's wrong?" Drake whispered.

"I want--nothing really--I was hoping..." She trailed off, suddenly feeling very self conscious about what she was about to do.

"Hoping for what?" He asked.

"Hoping you would tell me what this is?" Olivia replied. She gestured between them. "Is this going anywhere?"

He grinned as he placed a heated kiss to her neck. "It could go to my room."

She jerked away. "I don't mean that."

His eyes narrowed at her tone. "Then what do you mean?"

"Us!" She snapped. "Are we doing this to move into something more," she hesitated, irritated at herself for even doing so, "permanent?"

"Permanent?" He repeated. "I thought we were letting off some steam." He rubbed the back of his neck as he took a step away from her.

That simple action spoke volumes to Olivia.

He won't look me in the eye much less remain near. I'm nothing to him but a distraction, one he wants to keep hidden.

"This," her lip curled in disgust, "thing we have is over."

Drake tried to stop her when she shoved past him. "Come on Liv." He grasped her upper arm. "Are you seriously wanting us to date? How would that even work? You barely act like you can stand my presence. Who would believe we--"

She wrenched her arm free. Trying to avoid having to reveal how much his rejection hurt, she muttered to forget what she had said.

"I don't want anything from you." She replied in an emotionless tone.

"Liv," he tried to cajole her back into his embrace. "You know we work better in secret. Putting a label on what we have is only going to cause problems."

"We don't have anything worth mentioning." Without bothering to see his reaction to that, she walked away without a second glance.

***************

It had taken a couple more times of ignoring Drake's subtle hints to meet somewhere before he finally caught on that it was truly over.

One night he caught her alone in the palace library.

"We need to talk."

She simply turned a page in a medical journal she had been reading.

"Olivia!" He snapped.

Her eyes flickered up to his.

He stared at her, willing her silently to speak. Hoping she would explain why she decided to upend something good between them.

She gestured toward a chair across from her.

Drake felt a slight uneasiness at how casual she was behaving. The Olivia he knew was passionate in everything. Even her calmness held hints of restrained energy thrumming within her body.

This...this was new.

"I'm planning on proposing we build a research hospital in Cordonia, preferably close or in Lythikos." She announced.

"You're--what--that isn't what I wanted to talk about." He stuttered.

She chose to ignore that. "We need something to help combat the overflowing in the capital's hospital." She rested her chin on her fist as she stared off in the distance. "I know Lythikos’s weather isn't ideal for most, but the valley below Cordonia's Alps has more seasonal temperatures."

He blinked. "Liv, I think we should talk about our--"

"I talked to Liam about it. He suggested I propose it to the council tomorrow." She refocused on him. "I already have a few doctors in mind to run it."

Drake's brow furrowed. He didn't understand why she wouldn't hear him out.

Swallowing uncomfortably, he nodded toward her journal. "Who're the doctors?"

"There have been numerous articles written about the diagnostic team at Edenbrook Hospital in Boston." She pushed the journal towards him, pointing out a picture of a group of doctors. "And it just so happens that the hospital is going under due to budget cuts."

She lifted her eyes to truly look at Drake. He seemed to handle her decision to not discuss anything personal with him well...which was just what she wanted.

Especially since he doesn't want me except as an easy, occasional hookup.

She was determined to move on. If she couldn't do so with her hope for a family of her own, then she would in repairing her reputation. The name Nevarkis would stand for something honorable again.

This hospital would be her new passion project. A place where people could go when they had no answer to the illnesses they suffered with. A legacy she could proudly leave for the children she hoped one day to have.

A way to use her years of study to benefit her country.

All those classes in trauma care would finally pay off.

"I can't see anyone voting against this." Drake said. His eyes met Olivia's.

Unable to breach the wall she had erected between them, he reached for her hand.

She pulled it out of reach.

His head dropped. "Why won't you let us talk about this?"

"Because we said all that could be said." She replied with a shrug. "You don't want what I do."

"I could try." He muttered.

"Try?!" She hissed. "If a person has to try, then they don't want it." She snatched up the journal and got up. "If the council agrees tomorrow, then I am going to go to Boston to persuade Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Banerji."

"How long will you be gone?" Drake asked.

"As long as it takes." She averted her eyes.

“Were you going to tell me you were leaving or were you just going to disappear?” He tried to reach for her hand. “Liv, what about us?”

She pulled it away again before he could touch her.

"Time apart will show you that your initial response to my," she grimaced, "prodding was right. There is no us."

"Liv, you're wr--" he shut his mouth when she turned on her heel and left the room.

*************

A few weeks later...

"I'm sending Rashad with you." Liam explained. "Amanda is already in America with Thomas and has agreed to meet you both in Boston for the initial meeting with Dr. Banerji."

"No one else?" Olivia asked, hoping that he wouldn't add anyone from the Council with to go along too.

"No. Rashad has a meeting at Sloan Industries next week and has agreed to stop for a few days in Boston to help gather the financial aspect for us. Amanda will come and go as often as you need her." Liam smiled warmly at her. "But since this is your project, I think you should be there for as long as you need to."

She bowed her head in thanks. For once, she would have a chance to turn everyone's attention away from her aunt's and parents' traitorous actions and prove that a Nevarkis could do some good in this world.

Her dream to have a research hospital with some of the greatest minds in medicine working towards saving people had been one that had sparked to life the moment she decided to finish her degree in nursing.

Finding out that Dr. Banerji had a history of sorts with Cordonia helped ease the way for her and the others to present their offer.

He and whoever else they could entice would be given not only a chance to build a hospital from the ground up, but to also run it as they saw fit. With Cordonia’s generous coffers supplying the funding, its people and those in the surrounding countries would benefit greatly.

And she would finally have something new and honorable to be known for.

"When do you plan on leaving?" Liam asked.

"Within the next few days." She gathered her notes and slipped them back into her briefcase. "I've asked Hana to look after Lythikos for me."

Liam's eyebrows lifted. "You did?"

"I've come to see that she has a spine of steel hidden under that pink ruffled dress." A smirk settled on her lips. "A person has to have one to deal with the people of my duchy."

He chuckled, nodding in agreement. "True. There's no one else I would trust more to step into your shoes while you’re away."

"If that's everything, I will retrieve Hana and head home to finish packing." She rose from her seat, a softer smile forming as she held her hand out. "I won't let you and Riley down."

Liam pulled her into a hug. "You never do."

**************

Edenbrook Hospital, Boston...

“You wanted to see me.” Ethan paused in the doorway.

Naveen looked up from the initial proposal he had been sent. “Yes. Shut the door and sit down.”

Ethan quirked an eyebrow but did as requested.

“As you are aware, all of our attempts to save Edenbrook have failed.” Naveen began. “There is a lot of uncertainty about everyone’s future.”

“If you think I know the answer to our problem, you’re wrong.” Ethan clasped his hands loosely and leaned forward. “I’m fresh out of ideas.”

“What would you say to forming our own hospital?”

A wry grin formed on Ethan’s lips. “You have about one hundred and fifty million saved up that I don’t know about?”

Naveen chuckled. “No. But I was given an offer.”

“What are you talking about?” Ethan sat up.

“Shortly after graduating medical school, I was offered a fellowship of sorts in Cordonia.” He handed the letter to Ethan. “And it seems that my reputation along with yours has caught their attention.”

Ethan scanned the proposal. “They’re sending a representative?”

“Yes.” Naveen folded his arms on his desk. “They’re serious. I’ve already received a personal phone call from the king of Cordonia.” He smiled. “From what I was told, you and I would help them create a research hospital.”

“Us?” Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Sounds too good to be true.”

“That’s why we must question those they send to talk to us.” Naveen glanced down at the proposal. “But from what I have gathered, we would be choosing everything. Our staff. Layout of the building. The latest equipment.”

“Definitely too good to be true.” Ethan reclined back in his chair. “Even if we did say yes, you’re talking about us moving to a different country. Permanently, it sounds like.” His brow furrowed. “What would we be doing while it is under construction?”

“I guess we will find out tomorrow.” Naveen’s optimism couldn’t be diminished. Our meeting with them will be at noon.” He motioned for Ethan to leave. “Get some rest. I’ll expect you to find out what they are really asking of us.”

“I suppose there are worst things to sit through during lunch.” Ethan paused at the door. “Would you really want to move somewhere new and start over?”

Naveen slowly nodded. “After nearly dying last year, I already feel like I was given a new lease on life.” He met Ethan’s steady gaze. “Why not go to a beautiful country to begin it?”

"You know, Naveen? I don't think I would mind a fresh start either." The younger doctor smiled at his mentor. "Don't worry. I'll ask the hard questions for you."

"Good. Oh and Ethan?"

"Yes?"

"This stays between us until we find out what this proposal entails." Naveen put the letter in his briefcase. "I don't want to get anyone's hopes up."

Ethan nodded. "See you tomorrow."

***************

Later that evening, Ethan thought about the years he had spent in Boston. The heartaches he had suffered. The patients he had lost. The work that sometimes seemed to be in vain as he battled against the mysteries of medicine.

He gazed out of his window at the city.

Could I leave? See what else is out there? Perhaps find...

He stopped himself from that last thought. The last thing he needed was a complication like love.

His mind turned toward a certain medical intern who he could have possibly had something special.

But his keeping her at arm's length had ended up pushing her into the arms of a certain surgeon.

Bryce had not hesitated in making Casey his.

They are perfect together, Ethan thought. Which clearly shows I made the right decision.

Still, it does make one a bit envious.

He stood up and stretched. Tired from his long day and now these thoughts, he went to bed.

"There's nothing I can do about any of it." He muttered in the darkness. "Tomorrow might point me toward the direction I should take my life."

Ethan couldn't help but wonder if he had caught Naveen's optimistic outlook. The only thing he did know was that he had a nervous type of anticipation thrumming through his body. It had a hopeful tinge to it as he thought about the luncheon tomorrow.

It was that same feeling he had once had when he first became an intern at Edenbrook.

#delicate #ethan ramsey x olivia nevarkis #choices the royal romance #choices open heart #crackship #trr crossover #oh crossover #trr #trr olivia #choices oh #oh ethan #open heart #the royal romance #olivia nevrakis #ethan ramsey

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 3 years

Text

Only Mine Pt. 3

A/N: I know this is a part 3, so it’s on the verge of a mini series, but I got this idea and thought it would be cool so we’re going with it. aLsO I know Instagram and most social media and modern iPhones were not around during the Black Parade era of 2007. But let’s all just pretend like they were for the sake of this fic. Also, if you have ever been to a Taylor Swift concert, I’m pretty sure you’ll understand that the entire things is based off of one, specifically 1989 (my favorite era if we’re being honest). Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Words: 3,270 Warnings: Mentions of sex, a bit of swearing.

You could feel the corset back of your bodysuit be tightened and tied once again, after dozens of times. This was not your first rodeo.

Playing in front of over 150,000 people may have seemed impossible even a year ago. But the huge demand of fans and observers to see your tour led your record label to agree to send you on a solo stadium tour, something you had never done before.

“On in 5.” One of the stage crew walked back into your suite behind the stage to tell you. You nodded, looking over to your best friend, Y/B/F/N.

“You ready for another one?” You rolled your eyes and lightly laughed.

“I don’t think I was ever ready to go on a tour and play in front of this many people.” You admitted, getting up, “But I need to be.” She tightly smiled at you.

“Hey, you’re absolutely incredible at this. Like genuinely, fucking great.” She smiled. You had begged her months ago to go on tour with you as a companion. Ideally, your husband would have been the one to go with you, but he was touring at the exact same time. So obviously, that wouldn’t have worked out.

“Thanks.” You gave her a tight hug, her doing the same back, as the two of you walked out and into the main area behind the stage.

Going on tour had been exciting and fun in every way, but draining for so many reasons. You hadn’t seen Gerard in over six months until the night prior when he willingly flew in during a one week break MCR had from touring, so he could visit you. And, well, be a surprise guest for the show in New Jersey. Because who else would you have invited?

You had even put a sneak peek on your Instagram story earlier that morning, being up on your ginormous stage with a runway spanning over 70 feet and curving around so you could see everyone who was there. The free light-up bracelets everyone got helped too (if you’ve ever been to or seen a Taylor Swift concert, you know what I mean).

“Hey guys,” You smiled while recording yourself in one of your tour hoodies, during rehearsal on stage, “I’m super super excited because tonight, at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, we have a very special guest. They’re literally one of my favorite people ever, if not my favorite person, and they’re so extremely talented. They’re so important to me, and I consider myself maybe their number one fan.” You lightly laughed before turning it off and posting it to your story.

“Already dropping hints, huh?” You heard Gerard walk the stage from behind you. You rolled your eyes.

“Of course I did Gee.” You smiled, “I’m just too excited!” He smiled back.

“How do you do this every night, by the way?” He asked, arms crossed with a water bottle in one of his hands. His hair was a mess, as per usual, and he had a jean jacket on.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “You just kinda get used to it.”

“It’s just so incredible,” He sighed, “I mean, genuinely, I don’t know how you do it.” You nudged him playfully.

“Oh please, Gee, you’re an absolute beast while you’re performing.”

“Makes sense, you’re the beauty.” You nudged him again, this time a little harder.

“You’re so cheesy sometimes.”

You walked out below the stage to where an elevator would lift you up onto it. Your nerves will still co-exist with your mind, as you took a single deep breath to calm you down. You and all your backup singers, dancers, and the band all put yourself in a circle, with your hands in the middle. “Ready guys?” You asked and everyone hummed and nodded with smiles, “I don’t know why but I feel like tonight's just going to be awesome.” You smiled. “3, 2, 1... Midnight!” Everyone shouted, cheering, and breaking away. The entire crew dispersed to their own areas where they would go out on stage as you prepared to be lifted up.

You weren’t sure whether it was the crowd or the fact your lover was there. Of course, Gerard has seen the show before. He was at the first one in a reserved section of the floor that was completely isolated from everyone with a minibar even where family and friends sat. And celebrities were invited. That entire show was basically you serenading him in front of almost 100,000 people by stealing glances during songs (all of which were about him) and motioning your hands and such towards that area. And you knew he noticed by the way his smile grew even wider than before whenever you did. And tonight would of course be no different.

“So what should I do?” He asked, standing next to you during rehearsal as you two began to plot and plan what would happen.

“Just be you.” You said.

“Babe,” He began, “I love you, like a lot, but I don’t know if me doing my usual thing is best.”

“Why not?” You pouted with a frown, “You’re fucking amazing on stage!” You argued.

“Because I tend to go a little wild, ya know, stage Gerard is different than normal Gerard-”

“Yes, I know, and that’s fine.” You insisted, “But, and trust me when I say this, stage Gerard tends to be more entertaining for a large crowd than normal Gerard. No offense.”

“No, you’re right,” He agreed, “But, ya know, we can get destructive sometimes.”

“Well you don’t get really destructive when you’re by yourself,” You said right back, “If Frank were here, that would be a different discussion.” He lightly chuckled, almost under his breath.

“You sure?” He asked again, “I mean, you’re a pop princess, and I’m a rock dude who kinda does random stupid shit like a 14-year-old with no understanding of what consequences are.”

“And love,” You told him, grabbing one of his hands, “That’s exactly what I want you to fucking do.”

The first part of the show went exactly as planned, everything went smoothly, and the crowd was incredible, to say the least. It seemed like everyone knew all the lyrics which made your heart flutter, and your glances and gestures towards Gerard always resulted in a little smirk or smile from it. You could’ve sworn you could see his blush through the nearly blinding stage lights.

It was time for another outfit change, this time Gerard would be backstage preparing for his section on stage, considering you had another song, then he would come on, then a few more before the finale. You crawled through some of the spaces in the back, running to the makeshift changing room. You saw him right outside, doing some vocal warm ups, but the moment he heard you he looked up and smiled, you return the gesture. “You’re doing incredible.” He told you, approaching you. You leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Thanks, babe.” You smiled, “I wish we could talk more but I gotta, ya know-” You motioned to the black box of a changing room behind you.

“Yeah, right, of course.” You ran in, stripping off your first bodysuit, with a second layer of spandex under it, with a group of three on your team getting you into your second bodysuit, this one a dark purple instead of light blue, and changing some minor aspects of your makeup like eye shadow color and lip color.

Running back out, you couldn’t help but notice Gerard’s stares of awe and confusion. “H-how’d you do that?” He asked, dumbfounded. You couldn’t help but laugh considering he had been in this business a few years longer than you.

“Magic!” You yelled back at him while running back to the stage door.

You crouched down again on the platform as it lifted you up, the music begging to play. You only had Cruel Summer, a relatively shorter song to play, before you could finally announce one of the most exciting things of all tour.

Once you finished the song you had to wait a few seconds, just standing there and smiling waiting for the crowd to settle down. “So guys,” You began, walking around the stage for a bit, “I don’t know how many of you may have seen this, but I posted something on my Instagram story today,” You smiled even more as the crowd cheered once again, “And I have a special guest for all of you to meet. He’s honestly the most incredible, genuine human being alive. I feel very lucky to be able to have in my life, and I don’t know what I would do without him. And I thought because we’re in New Jersey,” You shrugged, “There wouldn’t be anyone better to bring here tonight, so please, help me welcome Mr. Gerard Way!”

You could’ve sworn that you had heard the loudest crowds ever, but were you wrong. The moment you mentioned “Gerard” it was as if you were giving away free money, you were sure every person in that stadium was screaming to their fullest potential, it was almost deafening.

From the backstage lift your husband appeared, in his usual black jeans and leather jacket. Even better, one of your tour shirts on. You smiled at him as he smiled right back walking down the stage to where you were, the intro to Teenagers was already playing, everyone's light up bands turning red so the entire stadium was the color.

Gerard began singing as the crowd sang along. You could’ve sworn they were just as loud as you two were. What made it all the better was the level of cheers when he did his typical hip moves and bounced his leg to the beat. You could see a small smile form on his face, breaking his usual stage persona by the crowd’s reaction.

“Because, they sleep with a gun, and keep an eye on you, son, so they can watch all the things you do.” You sang next as he stopped to let you shine a bit before continuing the song on his own until the chorus where the two of you sang together.

You had to admit, you missed rock performances primarily because you could do whatever you wanted for no reason and people loved it. So naturally, both you and Gerard were jumping around and practically yelling, but the crowd seemed to love it.

Both of you stage personas took over which resulted in more PDA than usual, including a lot of close duets where you two were within an inch of one another, making deep eye contact while singing. The fans ate it up, yelling every time you two got within a reasonable vicinity of the other. Everyone seemed fascinated by the chemistry you two had, but you weren’t complaining.

By the end of the song, you two were standing next to each other at the end of the runway, smiling as the crowd roared like never before. You both looked out happier than ever, then back at each other where you smiled once again. While the crowd was still going crazy. “Can we give it up one for time for Gerard?” You asked, and even more, cheers erupted. You had never heard a crowd go this nuts before. Gerard smiled, even more, leaning in and giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, everyone!” He smiled, “And I have to give an even bigger thank you, to my wonderful, beautiful, talented wife beside me.” More people cheered, “She genuinely one of the kindest, and considerate people I’ve ever met. I feel incredibly blessed every day to have her be my wife, and she amazes me with everything she does.” He smiled, “So why don’t we give a quick round of applause to her too?” He turned to you and more of the crowd screamed and clapped in response. You scrunched your nose, smiling at him in an attempt to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. The two of you walked back up the runway and to the back, down the elevator together, Gerard giving a final wave.

One you two were out of sight, you looked up and just hugged him, squeezing him as tight as you could, him doing the same back. “You’re so perfect it hurts.” You told him, as he looked down at you smiling, his hand still on your waist.

“Can I be honest?” You nodded, “That was one of the hottest things I have ever seen.” You nudged him lightly, in a playful manner rolling your eyes. “What? I can’t say anything about my wife singing my song? Damn your hips were moving so right and-”

“Okay, c’mon lover boy, I’ve got a show I gotta get back to.” You reminded him, pulling away so you could get changed again. You could hear a light whine he let out in protest as you walked to your dressing room again, but you chose to ignore it.

You changed only two more times before the show was over. After the finale, you, the dancers, backup singers, and band all taking bows, you waved once more going back down to under the stage where you took off all your equipment and sighed in relief. Another successful show completed.

The adrenaline was still pumping through your brain as your boots clicked in the hallways of the empty backstage arena, into your dressing room. You first removed your makeup, redoing it to look more natural, and changing from the sequence dress you wore during the last song into a pair of jeans and a solid-colored sweatshirt.

While you were putting on one of your pairs of sneakers you heard a knock on the door. “Come in.” You responded. Opening the door, Gerard appeared on the other side, smiling and closing it behind him. “Hey.” You smiled back.

“Hey, babe.” He said, leaning on the wall beside the door. “You did incredibly amazing.” You lightly laughed.

“Thanks.” You got up from where you were sitting on the couch, walking over to him and placing your arms loosely over his arms and behind his neck. “I couldn’t have done it without my special guest.”

“Well, yeah, you probably could have-” You placed your lips on his, immediately making him go quiet.

“Just shut up and take the compliment, Way.”

“Only if you insist, Way.”

“I gotta go meet some fans.” You pulled away, grabbing your water bottle and taking a sip. “You coming with?” He gave you a confused look. “Oh, c’mon,” You grabbed his hand, “They’re gonna freak.”

You never did paid meet and greets. Instead, you had hand-selected some of the fans to meet you after the show for free or had some people in your team go and find some lucky fans who you would meet. But tonight they would get a two for one with both you and Gerard. “Stay right here.” You whispered to him when you got to the meet and greet area, you two hiding behind a curtain. He nodded.

You walked through the black felt, as all dozen of the fans looked up to you wide-eyed, one of them even screaming. “Hey, guys!” You said, which resulted in all of them screaming, and one of them began to cry. “Oh my gosh.” You looked at her. She couldn’t have been much older than 16. But when she looked up, you immediately knew who she was. “Hi, Rachel.” You said. At that, she began sobbing more. “Can I give you a hug?” You asked, trying to calm her down. She nodded frantically as you wrapped your arms around her, and she hung onto you for dear life. “Don’t cry!” You insisted.

After talking to each of them individually for a few minutes it was finally time for a photo op. “By the way guys,” You said, “I have one more surprise.” You smiled, going back to the curtain that you emerged from previously. You looked at Gerard, who got the cue to come out. Of course, the fans gasped again as they saw him standing there now next to you. “This is my husband, Gerard, he was the guy on stage with me. And he’s the lead singer of this really awesome band called My Chemical Romance.”

“Uh, yeah, duh.” One of the girls, Lyla, said and you all laughed.

One by one you took photos with the fans and the people they came with, some of them doing poses and such which both you and Gerard were down to do. You also handed out free merch bags, which had some collectible items that were exclusive to only the fans who had been invited backstage.

You said goodbye to all of them, leaving you, Gerard, and some of the team plus security behind. The two of you walked back to your large dressing room, grabbing your personal belongings, and going out back where a car was to pick you up and bring you back to the hotel.

In the backseat of the solid black car, you couldn’t help but lay your head on Gerard’s shoulder, having not done so in months. Everything from his scent to the feel of his various jackets on your cheeks always put your mind to ease. You could feel his hand on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze of reassurance that he was there.

The car ride was silent. Not an awkward silence, but more of an enjoyable one. Just the presence of one another was enough to occupy your minds from any conversation.

Once you had reached the hotel, you two walked in hand and hand with security around you and up to your room. Inside the suite, you couldn’t help but take off your shoes and immediately sit down on the bed. “I’m really tired.” You admitted, “I’m sorry.” You looked up at your husband who couldn’t help but have an extremely confused look on his face.

“Why’re you apologizing?”

“Just because we would usually, well ya know, have sex which I’m pretty sure was on both of our agendas today.”

“Babe, you just performed a sold-out show in front of over 150,000 people. The last thing I want you to do is to worry about sex.”

“Okay,” You huffed, “I’m going to take a shower.” You got up giving him a quick kiss.

“I’ll be waiting for you, love.” He smiled. You got into the bathroom, closing the door, and stripping yourself of your current clothes. You took a quick and speedy shower. Considering your current state of being tired, you knew if you didn’t get in and out of there you would have just fallen asleep.

You changed into a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt, walking back out to find Gerard, comfortably suited on his side of the bed in his pajamas, reading a book. You went over, climbing next to you, prompting him to put the novel down. “You can continue to read with one of the lights.” You told him, feeling partially guilty.

“No need,” He said, “As cheesy as this is going to sound, I’ve been thinking about cuddling with you for months now.” He slumped down so he was parallel with the bed. You lightly smiled, moving closer. He wrapped his hands around your waist and onto your back, letting your place your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

“Thanks, Gee.” You responded, “I would’ve never gotten here if it wasn’t for my wonderful muse.”

#gerard way #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way x reader #mcr gerard #my chemical gerard #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

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travllingbunny · 4 years

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The 100 7x11 Etherea

This is the episode we’ve been waiting for this whole season - and while I don’t think it’s the best episode of the season, it is certainly the most exciting one. It would be that just the fact that Bellamy is finally back on screen (and not just for a couple of minutes, but for an entire episode fully focused on him), and it was great to see him and have an episode fully devoted to him, and remember once again what an amazing actor Bob is and the presence and intensity he brings to the show. But it also turned out to be the first episode of season 7 that is a genuine game changer and that shocked the viewers with a twist that wasn’t entirely predictable.

Even though the fandom had been speculating on the so-called brainwashed Bellamy or “void Bellamy” or generally Bellamy that is for some reason the (temporary) enemy of Clarke, Octavia and the rest of the protagonists, and hoping for that storyline, with a Mockingjay-like possibilities for romantic angst between him and Clarke (especially after a photo of Bellamy in the white robe leaked early in the year, months before the season even started to air), the way it happened seems to have upset many of the fans )to quote a podcaster, “I was hoping for a brainwashed Bellamy, but not like this”). Probably because the show has Bellamy retain agency in his transformation and that it is indoctrination into a cult be more like real life and partially rooted in Bellamy’s own emotional issues, beliefs and needs, rather than taking the easier route of having him be Sci-Fi brainwashed, Winter Soldier style.

That said, I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about this episode and how good I think it is. The first half of the episode, Bellamy was very much himself, and it was focused on survival and trying to get off the planet, and the dynamic between him and Conductor Doucette - throughout the episode - seems to play into the familiar trope of two enemies, or people of opposing views, who have to spend time together, gets to argue, survive together, and eventually bond as fellow humans. This story would not be particularly interesting - not only have we seen it many times, but it feels redundant for Bellamy, who has learned to see the POV of his enemies, bond with them and see the common humanity in them, many seasons ago. It also would not have been interesting if Bellamy managed to change Doucette’s beliefs - which the audience already thinks are rubbish - as this wouldn’t tell us anything new about Bellamy and would only give development to Doucette.

But instead, what was really happening throughout this episode, under the guise of bonding with the enemy, was Bellamy’s spiritual journey - aka his indoctrination into Cadogan’s cult. The crucial part of it happens not just to his exhaustion and desperation in tough circumstances, or his companion offering him faith as a solution, but through something Bellamy actually sees in the cave, and his own visions a little later. This is where the episode becomes a lot more interesting - and also a lot more frustrating. I don’t think I’ll be sure how I feel about this until I see the rest of the season, and learn how some things from this episode are explained or followed up on. In particular, the explanation (or lack of it?) for Bellamy’s visions in this episode will pretty much determine what course the show is taking in its final season and what it is trying to be.

Whatever the explanation, the end result - which we see after Bellamy returns to Bardo - is disturbing and painful to watch. It is something we have never seen before - Bellamy himself trying to enforce a total abnegation of everything Bellamy Blake is. Which includes willingly repressing his feelings for his loved ones to the point of betraying them (and results in the most painful Bellarke reunion ever, and one of the most painful reunions of the Blake siblings). I don’t know if I’m fully buying such a huge transformation - which is one of my problems with the episode. But this is certainly quality angst, and means that the season has become much more exciting to watch.

Is it weird that such a big twist happens in episode 11, out of 16 episodes, after 10 episodes that have been mostly setup for the big plot? Yes, just like it is weird that Bellamy has been MIA before this. BTS reasons obviously affected this season a lot - if it hadn’t been for them, I think we’d have a similar storyline, but this would have happened much earlier in the season. Are 5 episodes enough to resolve this in a satisfactory way? Well, it’s certainly enough to resolve it - this is a show that has characters go from hate to love over the course of 5 episodes, has characters hook up/fall for each other after knowing each other for 2-3 episodes, the show that showed Hope’s entire 10-year relationship with her father figure in a 7 minute scene, and the show that just had this massive character transformation happen over one episode. Will it feel satisfactory and convincing - it could, if it’s well-written and if the show doesn’t waste too much time on the Sanctum plot and fully focuses on its two main characters now that one of them is finally back.

Starting from the beginning - this time, its Bob saying “Previously on”, in line with this season having different cast members saying those opening words in different episodes (Eliza in 7x01, Marie in 7x02, Luisa in 7x03, there was no previously on in 7x04, Marie in 7x05, Lindsey in 7x06, Richard in 7x07, no previously on in 7x08, Eliza in 7x09 and 7x10 - it’s a bit surprising that Eliza said it in episode 9 even though she wasn’t in it at all, but otherwise those fit characters that were strongly featured in the episode in question).

We also get yet another version of the opening titles - which start and finish with a shot of the Anomaly. Earth again makes a cameo near the end, just as it did in 7x10, though it’s in the shadow now so can’t be seen as clearly.

While 90% of the episode takes place on Etherea, it opens and ends on Bardo. The opening scene is the only one not featuring Bellamy - apart from a replayed memory. We learn that the MCap machine was damaged by Echo, and is only now operational again. Finally, a good explanation why the Disciples did not put Echo, Diyoza or Octavia - again - in MCap after they agreed to cooperate. Levitt is using it on one of the Disciples who were in the Stone Room during the explosion. I guess he was still recovering a week after, and now they are presumably trying to help him, since - as the other Conductor tells Levitt - he is suffering from PTSD. Hey, isn’t that the first time anyone has mentioned that word on the show? At least the Disciples have kept the knowledge about mental health issues, even if their ways of dealing with it are questionable at best. We learn that no one is being punished, not even for killing Anders, as the other conductor says. (Not even? Does she think that’s worse than attempted genocide? Hope didn’t even back down from it as Echo eventually did, and the two Disciples Anders called witnessed it. The Conductor may think that the consequence is more important than intent... But even so, she clearly thinks Anders’ life was more important than those of two other Disciples, who were murdered by Echo as a part of her torturing Levitt. I guess that “For all mankind” thing doesn’t mean you consider all of the people, or even all of the Disciples, equal...)

Levitt finds out what 99% of the audience was sure of anyway and goes “He’s alive!” Surprise, surprise. But Levitt, shouldn’t you say “They are alive?”? Knowing Levitt’s attachment to Octavia, he is talking about Bellamy, not about one of his colleagues, Conductor Doucette, who was also presumed dead. (Doucette, not Douchette - even though the latter would make for a good joke.)

Let’s think about why this scene exists (apart from being used as a sneak peek). Obviously it was full of exposition, but why was it important for Levitt to find out that Bellamy is alive at the same time as we learn about it? We could have just seen Bellamy falling through the Bridge to the planet of Etherea. I suppose the purpose is dual: 1) to learn that the Disciples indeed did not know Bellamy was alive and on Etherea, 2) to learn that Cadogan knew Bellamy was alive an on Etherea, at least a few hours to a day before his return, which may be important for the events of this episode.

One of the questions the fandom has been debating is, did Anders intentionally send Bellamy to Etherea to be indoctrinated? Since 7x05, I have believed that Bellamy was on Etherea, and my initial reading of the scene was that Anders made the decision to send him there - and that this was why Doucette started to beg him: “Please, sir, no”, as he wasn’t happy to be stranded there. Then I started second-guessing it, because it became increasingly obvious that Anders was dumb as a brick and unable to come up with any smart plans how to brainwash people (as we saw with HEDO - he just threatened them into compliance instead of trying to really change their minds). Now I think that sending people to Etherea may be a standard practice that Disciples do on very special occasions when they want to send someone on a spiritual journey/pilgrimage/true brainwashing that they can’t come back until they make a ‘leap of faith” (just like they use Skyring as a standard prison). Maybe this is not even something that most Disciples know, but info only reserved for Level 12s or even Level 13s. But the grenade attack was real and made Anders believe Bellamy was dead and the plan was off - as there is no reason to believe that anything before Bellamy’s last day in the cave was manipulated from Bardo.

However, that last day - with Bellamy’s visions - could have been, and it happened around the same time Cadogan would have found out from Levitt that Bellamy was alive and on Etherea. There seems to be no time differential (or too small a differential to matter) between Etherea and Bardo - just like there seems to be none between Earth and Sanctum, since Bellamy and Doucette retained their memories going from Bardo to Etherea and back, both times without a protective helmet.

Etherea, the planet

The promo for this episode made the planet look much worse and less survivable than it really seems to be. Apart from the grey filter* that the show is using to make it look worse and kind of drab and gloomy, it seems to be a perfectly nice planet, with vegetation and an OK climate - as long as you are not trying to get off the planet through the Anomaly and climbing the extremely high mountain to reach the Anomaly Stone. It’s funny that, aside from Nakara, every other planet connected by the Anomaly has better living conditions than Bardo. The Disciples obviously use Bardo just because of the facilities they’ve found there. But Skyring is a really lovely planet - its only problem is the time differential from the other habitable planets, but that would not be a problem if a big group of people just decided to live there and start a community. Sanctum is lovely, too - well, except for red sun toxin and killer insects and meat-eating trees. (Why have the Disciples mostly ignored it? Is it because of those things, or maybe they didn’t want to mix with the Primes and other Sanctumites? Or they just didn’t see a use for it?) And Etherea is another problem where people could decide to live, if they gave up going to other planets.

*The show uses different filters to make the woods around Vancouver look like different planets:

Sanctum - bright colors, lots of red during day, purple at night

Skyring - blue filter (nice planet)

Nakara - blue filter (frozen planet)

Etherea - grey filter

Earth - normal, except in S5 everywhere outside Eden - greyish yellow filter for a desolated post-Praimfaya Earth

But of course, Bellamy is definitely not interested in staying there and only wants to find a way off this planet, and Doucette, unlike Orlando, is neither serving a sentence he wants to see to the end nor is expecting the Disciples to send a team to retrieve him. This is another one of the “just two three four people on the planet” episodes, but this stay is just a few months rather than years, and spent in much harsher and most exhausting conditions during most of that time - because Bellamy never stops trying to get off the planet. There are parallels and strong contrasts to every one of those other situations:

Eden - The first few months of Clarke’s experience surviving on the desolated Earth parallel Bellamy’s months on the mountain - surviving in tough conditions (extreme heat in Clarke’s case vs extreme cold in Bellamy’s), physically and mentally exhausted to the point of breaking. There are even visually parallel shots of both of them walking with a stick or eating bugs. But the big differences are: after trying and failing to get in the bunker and after the Temple collapsed, Clarke had no way of getting off the planet or out of her current situation and reuniting with any of her loved ones. She could only survive and wait. She was all alone and only talking to Bellamy, who wasn’t there, to keep herself sane. Bellamy, OTOH, was actively trying to get off the planet and reach his loved ones all that time, and he had a companion - another adult with strong beliefs, who he talked to and who did his best to indoctrinate him. After those first few months, Clarke found Eden and met Madi, and the rest of her (mostly off-screen) life on Earth during the next 6 years was much more similar to Octavia’s life with Diyoza and Hope on Skyring.

The Garden - Unlike Bellamy, Octavia lived in a beautiful place and with someone who was already her friend and a child she came to look after, finding family she loved (rather than faith and abstract “love for all mankind”). Like Bellamy, Octavia kept trying to get off the planet and reach her sibling and her friends, which was equally difficult for a different reason, as the Anomaly entrance was deep under water (unlike Bellamy, she wouldn’t have actually able to leave the planet as she didn’t have a Conductor or codes for the Stone - but she didn’t know she needed them) - for 6 years, before she eventually gave up and settled for her peaceful life for the next 4 years and sending Bellamy a letter.

Hesperides - Like Bellamy, Echo, Gabriel and Hope wanted to get off the planet and reach their friends/family, but unlike Bellamy, they couldn’t get the codes and had to wait for 5 years, and, unlike him, they lived in lovely place. Like Bellamy, they had a devout Disciple as a companion, but there were three of them, which made it more difficult for him to indoctrinate them, no matter how much he wanted to make them Disciples, and they were the ones trying to manipulate him. They developed a friendship with him, as Bellamy did with Doucette, but while Bellamy saved Doucette when he didn’t have to anymore, Echo betrayed him and left him as expendable, and the other two eventually went along with it.

But Etherea is not just another planet for the Disciples - it is notable for what can be found in a cave on the way to the top of the mountain, which Cadogan apparently looked for and found, as a part of his pilgrimage - his own “40 days in a desert” - because, of course, he sees himself as a messiah (and, as we saw in 7x09, this is an important thing in the Bardo religion and something children are taught about in school).

Bellamy immediately learns all about Cadogan’s teachings - everything the rest of the characters took several episodes to learn about - by reading his book (”pocket propaganda from another false god”) and immediately pokes holes in it. He makes all the good points and lists most of the reasons why the Disciple faith makes no sense, including the fact that it makes no sense to be fighting for peace and end of violence by waging another war. Everything he says in the first half of the episode are things I would completely agree with. Which makes it all the more frustrating when he starts ignoring his own reasonable arguments by the end of this episode. One might say that the Disciple propaganda attacks both his heart - using his desire to find peace, an end to all the struggle and pain, and eventually, his love and memory of his mother, to ignore what his head is telling him - but they also eventually attack his head, by presenting what seems like actual physical evidence, and the end result is to ignore not just the rational objections he had, but also try to suppress his love for the most important individual people in his life.

He lists the people he loves - “Octavia, Echo, Clarke” - which is the first time Bellamy himself has used the word love for the latter two (and in fact, for anyone other than Octavia). BTW, notice that no one in the show has ever used the word “girlfriend/boyfriend” except Diyoza (when this was what she assumed Clarke was to Bellamy)? Maybe these words have fallen out of use in the post-apocalypse societies. The main characters usually talk about their “friends” or “family” (the latter not always being biological). Doucette later talks of "your family, your friends” and “your obsession with your sister and your friends” - where Echo and Clarke are both lumped into this category. Echo is not singled out as “your girlfriend” or in any other way.

Here’s the thing about Bellamy’s and Doucette’s dynamic: if this story wasn’t really about indoctrinating Bellamy, there really wouldn’t be anything there we didn’t know about Bellamy before. Of course he wouldn’t kill this random Disciple guy if he didn’t have to - and, in spite of what he tells Doucette at the start, it’s not just because he needed him to survive. Bellamy learning to see the humanity of his enemies and working with them and bonding with them is something we have seen many times: at first with Clarke, then with Lincoln, Indra, the Grounders, Kane, Echo. All the way back in season 2, he valued human lives, even from the enemy side: he opposed Murphy’s idea of killing the captive Grounder thief (while Finn summarily killed him), he angrily said he’d kill everyone in Mount Weather but then tried his best for that not to happen, after seeing the children there; even during his Pike-supporting days, he tried to persuade Pike and the others to spare the wounded Grounder warriors, in season 4 he talked Riley down from trying to assassinate Roan, and in season 5, he refused to kill the cryo frozen Eligius prisoners, and later convinced Madi to spare the Eligius convicts who were their PoW. And while Bellamy has been motivated, most of all, by personal love (particularly for his sister and Clarke), we’ve seen him save many people, including strangers or near strangers. That speech Doucette gave him about “loving all mankind” is something season 1 Bellamy needed to hear, the one who was focused just on Octavia and then just on her and the Delinquents, but Bellamy has had a massive character development since. Bellamy knows more about loving all mankind than Doucette or any of the Disciples do. Doucette says he “loves all mankind” including a total stranger - well, dude, didn’t you try to kill Bellamy at first? And the rest of what we’ve seen from Disciples is much worse. They talked the talk, but don’t walk the walk, unless they think kidnapping and torturing people and trying to break their spirit is “love”, And Anders definitely showed that he did not “love all the mankind” when he ordered a hit on Hope, or when he gave that speech in 7x10 about what disgusting “wild beats” all these non-Disciples were.

But unlike Anders, Doucette can talk in a convincing way and make decent arguments in favor of his faith to non-believers, rather than just preaching to the converted - or at least, he can appear to give decent arguments. He’s taking a page from The 100 fandom with the argument that Bellamy is so selfish and egotistical for... loving his sister and his friends and constantly fighting and sacrificing himself for them. (The 100 fandom loves making that same argument about Clarke.) Quite a skill, to make such BS argument sound convincing. He basically gives Bellamy a version of the “Love is weakness” advice - in this case, that “love is selfish” and leads to destruction and pain. And when Bellamy asks the rhetorical question, if that means that you shouldn’t love anyone - Doucette turns it around and talks of love for all mankind. But that “love” he speaks of is abstract and fake - it is impossible to love everyone. You cannot love total strangers, or people you simply don’t like - certainly not the same as you love your lover or friend or family member. You can, however, be compassionate, and value human lives,.Which is, in fact, something the Disciples don’t do, as we’ve seen on Bardo (but Bellamy has not seen it yet) - they just value lives as more soldiers for the cause. Their “humanity” is abstract - they are ready to sacrifice individuals for it (everyone except the Shepherd). Bellamy, on the other hand, has always been about valuing individual lives and saving them - be it Mel on season 2, or the slaves in season - and he managed to do it while also loving his sister and his friends. The Disciples and Doucette’s arguments present a false dichotomy. But, unfortunately, Bellamy still has deep guilt and self-loathing that he never fully resolved (even in season 6, he still talked about his many sins in 6x04), and he’s tired by always having to fight another war for survival, just to followed by another. (Which is similar to Clarke’s misgivings in 7x03: “I’m afraid that fighting is not what we do, it’s what we are” and Raven’s and Clarke’s conversation about guilt over having killed so many people.) The only time he didn’t have to always worry and/or fight were the years on the Ring, but he was still grieving Clarke and missing Octavia and motivated by going back down to reunite with her He knows what he’s capable of doing out of love - and he also has unresolved issues with the women he loves. In season 4, he lamented how pathetic he was coming back to his sister when she kept treating him badly, and in the 7x07 Ring flashback, he thought his love for his sister was his “weakness”. He’s certainly been hurt by her, finally rejected her and then later got to reunite with her, get an apology and forgive and make up with her. He and Clarke have also certainly hurt each other and forgiven each other, and that relationship is still unresolved. Bellamy himself admitted to Jo!Clarke in 6x09 that he was exhausted by their ups and downs and lack of resolution. And Echo... well, he should know exactly where he stands with her, but he didn’t seem happy about their relationship and seemed to want her to be Clarke someone else.

I can see why Bellamy started to envy Doucette his emotional calm that his faith and worldview seemed to bring him.

We got another Pike mention in this ep (and again, it was a reference to his positive role - as a teacher of Earth skills). The last time Bellamy made it was in 6x07 when he found out Clarke was alive. Pike was also a father figure to Bellamy - just like Kane, and now Cadogan. Bellamy has been called both a King and a Knight. Some of his biggest mistakes were when he chose to trust in a leader/father figure (the last time, it was Pike - who was, however, very different from Cadogan and his views on the opposite side the spectrum from Bill’s), and ALIE!Raven thought that one of the ways she could try to taunt him and erode his confidence was to call him a follower rather than a leader. Only she tried to convince him that he was in subjugated position to Clarke - which IMO was never true. They have always had an equal relationship (except when external circumstances made it otherwise - see, Kane and the adults taking the power away from Bellamy, while Clarke was able to take it back from Abby mostly because she was backed up by the Grounder Commander), and Clarke was the one who always tried to boost Bellamy’s confidence in his abilities as a leader. He was definitely a leader of his people in season 5 and season 6, and he works best as co-leader with Clarke (and vice versa). But even when Bellamy supported Clarke, he was questioning his decisions, even though he was rarely able to change Pike’s mind - he wasn’t blindly obeying and accepting everything, as he would have to with the Disciples.

Another factor in Bellamy’s transformation is of course the fact that he spent months in the cave - to the point of physical and mental exhaustion. Every time he and Doucette would climb the mountain, the peak where the Stone was would turn out to be even higher. Bellamy himself used two of the Greek myths to describe the task - Sisyphus and Icarus. A pointless task that results in having to do everything all over again (just like what he said about having to always fight another war), and a dangerous task likely to destroy you.

Bellamy was still insisting on reason over faith - “I believe in what I can prove” - but then he got to see the beings of light, as “proof”..

And here we come to the more interesting part of this ep and something that the show may or may not explain. I’m pretty skeptical about Cadogan’s views of what these beings are. How do we know that they have really “transcended” and become eternal or whatever, living on some kind of higher plane? No one has communicated with them, or have they? They are aliens, from our POV. Maybe that’s their natural state? Maybe they’re dead and this is just what remains of them? Maybe they died in a similar catastrophe as the Bardoans but one that was more about fire than ice, as Selina hypothesized in her review)? Maybe they are in agony? Sure, they look beautiful to human eyes, and fit the human culture’s idea of what spirituality and transcendence is like - but you can’t know that for sure. The frozen crystal giants on Bardo also look beautiful, after all, and that entire species died horribly

And then the second “otherworldly” thing happens after Bellamy finally agreed to prey - and he has a vision, involving Cadogan as his spiritual guide, leading him from a place full of weapons - swords and guns - to the place where he sees his dead mother, Aurora. It’s a beautiful and emotional scene, and I can’t imagine all the things Bellamy is feeling as she touches his face - including, probably, more unresolved guilt - over getting his mother executed (because he loved his sister and tried to make her happy). Aurora tells him Go to the light, Bellamy” and he looks at the figures of light - but we don’t learn what, if anything, he saw there .

I hope we learn that Bellamy saw something important - maybe something connected to the Judgment Day Becca talked about - that would explain the extent of his conversion, although it seems that it is mostly supposed to be a consequence of the fact that the storm stopped at the moment when he chose to prey.

The final step in his ‘spiritual journey’ is after that, when he barely managed to reach the top. After repeating the mantra “I am not afraid” (something else from the Blakes’ childhood - the same line Octavia was repeating on Bardo to resist the Conductors), he admits to himself “I am afraid”. In retrospect, a sign that he was broken, and started feeling that his past and his family were not enough to give him strength and faith. The jump from the top was described as a “leap of faith” by Doucette - which is kind of ridiculous, since it had nothing to do with faith, just with the fact that Cadogan was there and knew how the Anomaly worked, and the fact he was able to climb the mountain and leave is proof that the Anomaly worked properly.

(I wonder why the heck the Anomaly works so differently on different planets - in some cases you can enter the Anomaly right next to the Stone when you’re leaving the planet, and in others, you have to go back to the original entrance that’s somewhere else.)

Now, the visions may be explained in several different ways:

hallucinations - earlier, Bellamy found a family photo and recognized Cadogan, and he would know how Conductors and high ranking Disciples dress, he’s seen the white robe on Anders and Doucette

everything in the cave is real, and Cadogan has some sort of a telepathic connection to the cave (the true believer’s interpretation)

the brain implant/hive mind theory (by Selina again - I don’t believe in this one as there has been no evidence of it so far)

projections/hologram - see Jean’s theory that Cadogan used the hologram technology to project images of himself and Aurora (whose image is familiar to the Disciples from Octavia’s memories)

a combination of some of the above - the beings of light may be real, and Cadogan may have stumbled onto something but has again misinterpreted what it was all about; Bellamy’s vision of Cadogan was a hallucination or projection, but he also did see something real when his mother (again, possible hallucination or unexplained spiritual phenomenon) told him to look into the light.

It’s possible that the show will never fully explain what really happened here, just as Murphy’s vision of hell has never been explained.

The reunion

Up until this point, the episode doesn’t seem to show a seriously disturbing turn in Bellamy: we saw that he was starting to take the Disciples’ faith seriously and even to believe in it, and the first thing he does when turning up in the Stone Room on Bardo is look happy and relieved he made it, and hug an equally happy Doucette. So, he made a friend among the Disciples and will be the one telling Clarke and the rest: “We should take this seriously, they have a point, here is what I saw on Etherea...” - right? That would make perfect sense while not fundamentally changing who Bellamy is.

But no! Bellamy falls to his knees and calls Cadogan “My Shepherd” - which was one of the most painful scenes for me to see in all of the show, even more so than the later scene where he snitches on Clarke. There’s been a lot this season about “kings” forcing subjects to kneel - but instead of the “kneel or die” approach that Anders more or less used (while Sheidheda is using it in the most literal way possible), this is out of genuine belief. I don’t know if I’m really buying this massive transformation that we see here and in the next scene. It’s just a bit too much. Maybe information about what it was that Belalmy saw when he went ‘into the light’ would help explain it better.

Cadogan is happy to use Bellamy to convince Clarke to cooperate, and informs him: “Your friends are here, they have gotten themselves in some trouble”. Maybe this adds up to the reason why Bellamy is uncomfortable when he sees them a bit later, because they’ve been bad - but only some of them were (Echo with her murders, torture and genocide attempt, the others - not really, except Hope, someone he doesn’t even know yet). But when he comes to see them, he looks broken, exhausted and numb after all his experiences. And probably wary of giving in to the “selfish love”. (His friendship with Doucette is presumably in line with his new faith, but he seems to think his friendship with Clarke is not? Is that his relationship with Clarke actually involves love, real love for an individual?) After finally reuniting with the people he had been trying to reach all that time on Etherea, he doesn’t even look happy to see them. To quote Bellamy from earlier in the episode,Sometimes, Bellamy Blake, irony is funny. This is not one of these times.

Meanwhile, his friends are in Cadogan’s living quarters in house arrest. Conveniently, it’s just Clarke, Echo and Octavia there - plus Gabriel, but the focus is on Bellamy’s reunions with the three women he named as the people he loved earlier in the episode. Raven is not there, neither are Miller, Jordan, Niylah or Hope. (The last time Bellamy saw Jordan, Jordan was the brainwashed one. Hey, what happened to that storyline? Did it end up as a casualty of the rewrites?)

They’re discussing what to do, and Clarke has decided to basically sacrifice her life so the others could escape. We know that Clarke is a very selfless person, but the way she’s been increasingly casually deciding to sacrifice herself feels a bit disturbing - as if she’s stopped caring about her own life or hoping for happiness. At this point, her big character development would be to choose happiness and try to have what she wants. Even her “selfish” actions up to this point were mostly about trying to protect others. We haven’t even seen her show much emotion this season - as if she was on autopilot - except for her early grieving Abby earlier in the season, and moments when she’s silently grieving Bellamy,

Cadogan is there to offer the carrot rather than the stick, and being a drama queen, doesn’t Clarke and the others that Bellamy is there, but lets him in. They are massively surprised but don’t notice something’s off, or rather, they seem to assume he is just physically exhausted and in pain rather than mentally/emotionally off, as he silently looks at Clarke and Octavia and then Echo. Camera shows close-ups of the reactions of the people who love him: Clarke’s, Echo’s and Octavia’s reactions before going back to Clarke. (Probably because she’s the main character, in case people have forgotten, and her relationship with Bellamy is at center of the show), Octavia is happy and proud tries to hug her brother, but the Disciples pull out weapons. Clarke ignores the weapons, counting on her status/leverage, and hugs him.

She looks lovingly at him, with something we haven’t seen from her in a long time - happiness, that’s definitely not “best friend that I’m not attracted to” but “best friend I have naughty thoughts about”. (Only love can make you hug someone who must be smelling really badly at this point, considering Bellamy hasn’t washed or changed his clothes in over 3 months!)

This hug is different from any other Bellarke hug ever, since Bellamy is so numb, even when he hugs her back, but she is too happy to see him back to notice. And then when she takes the chance to also get him up to speed and tell him about the Flame - he gets an incredibly sad look on his face. He is not unemotional now - but he has decided he must ignore and suppress those feelings, betray her trust and tell Cadogan the truth, because his faith and the so-called “love for all mankind” comes first.

Everyone is shocked when he calls Cadogan “My Shepherd” and then beyond shocked when he betrays them - and camera again shows Echo’s, Octavia’s and Clarke’s reactions, going back to Cadogan, and then the episode ends on a close-up of Clarke’s shocked face. Because, you know, she’s still the main character. And finally, now we can hopefully have a S7 storyline that properly focuses on the show’s protagonist and utilizes Eliza’s talent allowing her to show a range of emotions. When Clarke believed Bellamy was dead, he was someone she could hold in her memory and try to honor it by saving his sister and girlfriend - but this is a whole new way of losing him, right after thinking she got him back, and means real emotional turmoil.

Bellamy has become a true believer and decided to stop being himself. And the people who love him will now have to deal with his loss - in another way - all over again, and try to save him. I’m torn because this storyline offers huge opportunities for a “power of love” storyline right out of a fanfic, but I’m uncomfortable with the idea that it may come at the expense of having Bellamy be manipulated and subjugated to a white megalomaniac villain in the last season. But I hope and expect we will see genuine character development and re-affirmation of who Bellamy Blake is. Now, there are a lot of things Bellamy doesn’t know yet and that have contributed to him drinking Cadogan’s Kool-Aid (he hasn’t seen Cadogan’s dealings with his family or Second Dawn, or what he did to Becca, or Anders’ actions on Bardo, or the way the Disciples mistreat their own people, and he doesn’t know about Cadogan’s mistranslation of the Bardoan text), but I don’t think the resolution of this storyline will be about Cadogan or what Bellamy knows about his religion. I think it will be Bellamy himself and his relationships. Clarke and Octavia had big character arcs in season 5-6 where they had to deal with who they are, who they’ve become and what they want to be negating everything he is. He needs to finally really deal with his self-loathing and guilt and he needs to gain back trust in himself, the Bellamy Blake that others loved and trusted and relied on. He needs to feel loved and decide that love is strength and a positive rather than just ‘selfish’ force. (And who can show him that? Hint: not his girlfriend Echo, whose love he would definitely see as confirmation that love is selfish and destructive, as it makes a person do things like murder, torture and attempted genocide out of revenge. Another hint: probably the same person who gave him confidence and made him believe in himself and grow as a person, multiple times, all the way back in season 1 and again in season 3 and season 4, telling him he was a person that other follow because of his big heart and the way he can inspire people. And third hint - the same person Bellamy was saving - her physical self - in season 6, will be the one who’ll have to save him, mentally, save who he is., in season 7.)

Rating: 8/10 (could go higher or lower depending on how the cave visions are explained and what the outcome of this plot is)

#the 100 #etherea #the 100 7x11 #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bill cadogan #octavia blake #the disciples #the anomaly #bardo

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beca-mitchell · 4 years

Text

wish i could pretend i didn't need you (2/?)

Summary: Beca Mitchell is born into a life of organized crime, directionless and despondent. Then she meets Chloe Beale.

Chapter Summary: One week later, Beca and Chloe go on their "first" date.

Word Count: 3,564

Chapter title from "What Am I" by Why Don't We.

Read below. AO3 Link under the cut.

“Beca, piano is about precision, of course. But also...a delicate touch. Precision and gentleness all at once. Watch.”

Beca watches carefully, eyes trained on the keys her mother presses. Very intently, she tracks each motion, making sure to memorize the melody.

“Understand?” her mother asks, lifting a hand to sweep a strand of Beca’s hair behind her ear.

Beca furrows her brow in concentration before she places her hands on the keys and mimics exactly what her mother had down, copying the melody precisely. When she finishes, she beams up at her mother who smiles at her with pride and a little bit of another, then-unidentifiable emotion.

* * * * *

Beca glances at her phone for the tenth time since she reached the corner of the block she had agreed to meet Chloe at.

Radio silence from her father. He must be in a good mood. Better for Beca if he is. She has been riding a wave of being nervous over her first date with Chloe. Chloe Beale, a twenty-seven year-old vet with a heart of gold and a devastating smile.

The whole date thing—that pretty much came out of nowhere, smashing into Beca with the force of a thousand sledgehammers. Any ensuing breathlessness, however, turned out to be breathless excitement and anticipation. She wasn’t...opposed to going on a date. She wasn’t opposed to seeing Chloe again, despite telling herself that she was just attracted to Chloe on a physical level and only that.

After that first night—that first morning—they had exchanged numbers, content on simply staying in touch—at least Beca is sure that was how she had phrased it. She had caught the lingering dash of disappointment on Chloe’s face as she had slowly slid from the bed. Whatever had caused her to partake in her next actions, well she totally blamed her lingering hangover (nonexistent hangover), but she had kissed Chloe again.

It was just...that time of year, she told herself. Continues to tell herself.

“Stupid,” she mutters to herself, now absentmindedly tapping through her phone. Her last text from Chloe—a cheerful On my way!—stares innocently back at her. Is she dating this woman now? Are they girlfriends? Is there—should Beca have brought flowers?

Huge oversights everywhere. Red flags everywhere. Beca runs through all the possible options in her mind, thoughts of her father so far out of her mind.

Ultimately, worst case scenario: Beca had, quite simply put, been unable to resist Chloe Beale that night and she had found that she needed the company more than anything. She rarely found connections with other people, let alone strangers. It was something ingrained in her from the beginning—something that had been impressed upon her as a child, then as a teenager, and continuously as an adult.

Don’t become attached.

“I hope I’m not late.”

Beca startles, quickly putting her phone away as she turns to greet Chloe. She stops—freezes—and for once, finds her mind going blank. No thoughts about her calendar. No thoughts about missed phone calls. No thoughts about missed shipments. No thoughts about her father, obligations, or meetings.

Just one thought: “Chloe, hi. Wow. Hi.”

Chloe’s hair, carefully curled and flowing over her shoulders, ruffles in the wind. She is wearing a denim jacket over a black shirt and black jeans which Beca can tell hug her hips and thighs beautifully. Somehow, despite the simplicity, Beca feels underdressed in her own nice sweater and jeans.

“That’s a good wow, right?” Chloe’s voice holds a teasing lilt to it, like she knows exactly why Beca is so flustered. She probably does, Beca muses. Beca wonders if they can kiss—wonders why she has all kinds of knowledge about various weapons, business transactions, and how to get the deal she wants, but none—well, hardly any knowledge—about how to handle a normal first date with a beautiful woman.

She goes with the first thing on her mind.

“You’re…” Beca swallows, eyes tracking down Chloe’s body. “You’re beautiful.”

“I…” Chloe blushes, shy for once under Beca’s gaze. “Thank you.” Beca holds her breath, wondering if Chloe will kiss her; wondering if that would be odd. Chloe smiles, leaning in to press a kiss against her lips, allowing a brief moment of indulgence when Beca’s tongue sweeps across her lower lip, almost politely. It makes Chloe giggle, causing her to draw back to Beca’s disappointment.

“What?” Beca asks. She licks her lips unconsciously, taking a step back. It is so different seeing Chloe like this in the drifting sunset and on a public walkway, without the shadow of night and alcohol, all tangled up in their bedsheets. “Did I do something?”

“Nothing,” Chloe promises, reaching out to gently tuck a curl behind Beca’s ear. “You’re just a lot more shy today, considering what we did last week.”

Beca laughs, a breathless sound, tilting her body slightly so she can face away from Chloe just enough to hide the blush rising on her face. She can hardly compartmentalize the sensation that flows through her then. The ease she feels with this interaction—Chloe is hardly somebody she would consider a confidante. More likely to be a liability if anything. A danger to herself if she were to ever get too wrapped up in Beca’s life.

The thought makes Beca swallow. Too much thinking about the future. Too much thinking about a guaranteed future with a woman she slept with once.

A woman with whom she is about to embark on a date.

A first date with somebody who has no idea who she is.

“Beca?” Chloe’s voice comes back into Beca’s depth. “If that is your name. Beca Mitchell,” she drawls.

“Sorry, what?” Beca asks quickly.

“Nothing you just…got all quiet and shy. I was just kidding.” Chloe beams at her, holding out a hand. “Want to get going then?”

“Oh, um.” Beca smiles, reaching out to hold Chloe’s hand, resisting the urge to shiver at how warm and soft Chloe’s hand feels in her own. “Let’s. And yes, my name is Beca, you weirdo.”

“Are you okay with going to Victor’s?”

Beca blinks in surprise at the mention of one of the restaurants where her family frequently conducts business. “Oh, um—”

“I just heard it had good reviews, and it’s close.”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve been there. It’s fine.” Beca doesn’t think much of it. She hasn’t been there often enough and never really for business in a high profile sense. She’s sure it’ll be a relatively easy-to-handle situation.

She’s on a date. She knows she isn’t working. She knows that her father knows that. But still, she misses what Chloe says in response, too focused on the logistics that have momentarily flooded her mind.

“Hey,” Chloe says quietly, stopping them in their tracks. She tugs on Beca’s hand expectantly. Beca swallows, looking up into Chloe’s eyes as Chloe is seemingly unaware of the people having to walk around them on the sidewalk, grumbling all the while. “I’m glad I get to see you again.”

Beca finds that she has only the urge to tell Chloe the truth—to be honest and open with this woman. It is different. Refreshing. “Me too,” she replies, smiling again when Chloe leans in to kiss her again, soft lips tender and gentle against her own.

* * * * *

Beca finds that she loves talking to Chloe—loves her company and her presence. That first morning together had been more of the same humorous banter. They had kind of gotten to know each other, but mostly Beca had basked in the comfort of Chloe’s presence and her touch.

(And more of some of the same activities that had brought them into Chloe’s bed in the first place, but that was just a bonus, Beca told herself.)

Tonight, however, is something more. Beca feels it. It had been what she had anticipated, with no small measure of nerves, when she had accepted Chloe’s text asking her on a date only a few days after they had gone their separate ways.

Tonight, together, they sit in the quiet corner of the restaurant, staying for hours until the lights dim and they realize that they’ve stayed until closing. Chloe turns to meet Beca’s bewildered expression and they both burst into quiet giggles as they quickly gather their belongings.

“That’s never happened to me before,” Chloe comments. “Staying until a restaurant has closed.” She flutters her eyelashes at Beca. “You’re a good date.”

Beca smiles, taking a moment to make sure her phone is in her pocket. As she does so, she notices one of the wait staff gesturing for her to go into the kitchen.

“I’ll be right back. Just going to the bathroom.” She pecks Chloe on the cheek, quickly making her way to the back of the restaurant. When she’s sure that Chloe isn’t looking, she ducks into the kitchen, brow already furrowed and her mouth set in a thin line. “This better be good,” she points out, clearly displeased.

The maître-d cowers under Beca’s gaze for a few seconds before she grows bored and turns her attention to the restaurant owner who, to his credit, walks right up to her without a care in the world. “Miss Mitchell—”

Beca’s jaw clenches. “Beca.”

He smirks at her. Her fingers twitch against her thigh, wishing more than anything she had something more than a switchblade on her. “Miss Mitchell, so kind of you to stop by our restaurant tonight.”

“I’m kind of busy, so if you could…” she motions with her finger. “Hurry up a little, that would be great.”

“Is that any way to talk to somebody who extended restaurant hours for you and your…” his eyes cut to the door with a knowing glint. “Your friend.”

“I’m not working tonight,” Beca says lowly in lieu of responding to the obvious bait. “What do you want?”

“Seems your associates left something behind the last time they passed through here. And shortchanged us on some money. When we agreed to help you, it was simply that—to pass through.” He lifts a small package, carefully wrapped and tied in string. “We can’t have things like this here.”

Beca smirks. “Are you sure that wasn’t just one of your employees taking a little something for themselves?”

He presses the package into Beca’s arms before stepping back. “Send your father my regards—or maybe I can call him to let him know I saw you tonight?”

Beca swallows back the immediate rage she had felt when the package pressed into her arms roughly. She quickly tucks it into the waistband of her jeans, finding no pockets in her chosen sweater for the evening. Already, she feels the tension in her chest about to snap—a combination of anxiety and frustration with yet another business mishap. A business dealing that she can’t even address properly because Chloe is sitting alone at their table in an empty restaurant, simply waiting for Beca to return from the bathroom. Definitely not thinking about the package of questionable substances (drugs, Beca assumes dryly) tucked into her date’s jeans.

“I’m sure your friend will understand if you…end the evening early. But we would be happy to help you find an escort to get her home.”

Beca’s heart races. She meets his gaze defiantly. A litany of words threatens to escape, nothing particularly appealing or fitting for the current situation. She steadies herself mentally, attempting to plaster a neutral expression on her face. She goes for calculated reasoning and an even tone, hedging a bet as to what exactly happened to have caused a mix-up at this level. “Next time,” she says, keeping her voice low. “If you ever try to steal from us again, at least make the effort to own up to it instead of chickening out. Trying to save your own ass like this?” She shrugs, making her way back to the kitchen entrance. “Not a good look,” she finishes, without looking back.

The short walk back to Chloe feels like a lifetime, but Beca makes it. She releases a breath she hadn’t known she was holding the moment Chloe turns to face her. Chloe, who is blessedly alone, stands and her eyes flash with concern. “I was about to go find you. Thought you slipped out the back or something.”

There is levity in Chloe’s voice, but Beca senses the underlying hesitation. The uncertainty. That same uncertainty is reflective of the sheer newness of...whatever this is and already Beca feels like she has done enough damage for one evening. For as big as Los Angeles is, she has come to know, through experience, that there is rarely anywhere to hide. “Sorry, just had some business to take care of,” she apologizes, offering a sheepish shrug to mask the momentary guilt and dread that had crept through her.

Chloe grins. “I mean. I didn’t ask. But thank you.”

Beca blushes even though she had totally said that with the intent of diverting Chloe’s attention while also going for some honesty, though she’s sure Chloe doesn’t need to know about what happened in the kitchen. She doesn’t need Chloe to know about any of that.

“Shall we?” Beca asks, opting to change the subject instead.

“Okay,” Chloe agrees. She stands, reaching for Beca’s hand. The gesture and all its casual intimacy makes Beca swallow. She doesn’t dare look back to see if anybody is watching; she doesn’t dare look back to check if any unsavory eyes are focused on their actions. She is suddenly so aware of how empty the restaurant is, how they really are the only ones there. She just had become so distracted and enamored by her conversation with Chloe—the way her eyes had sparkled so beautifully under the gentle restaurant lighting.

Still, with Chloe’s hand in her own, Beca finds that she manages to remain stoic, ramrod straight back and all. Together, they leave the restaurant, Beca’s heart somewhere in her throat all the while.

“I...don’t want this night to end,” Chloe admits as they walk down the quiet street. Beca shifts her gaze from assessing the parked cars along the street to meet Chloe’s eyes.

“I don’t either,” Beca admits.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Didn’t you kiss me already?” Beca asks quickly with a twitch of her lips. Before she can even form a full smirk, Chloe’s hand comes up to cup the back of her head delicately and her lips descend on Beca’s. Softly, she kisses Beca, both of their eyes slipping shut at the sensation. Beca sighs quietly, reaching up to grip Chloe’s shoulders as she tilts her head to fully sink into the kiss. She tries to memorize the way Chloe kisses her. It is a mix of desire, tenderness, and newness all at once. There is nothing to memorize however, not quite yet, as Chloe’s technique shifts and changes seamlessly with each moment.

“Come back with me,” Chloe requests, pressing her fingertips more firmly against the back of Beca’s head. “Please,” she whispers, breath ghosting against Beca’s jaw. Beca whimpers quietly, lifting her chin to catch Chloe in another kiss, both of them sinking into the sensation. Beca feels her back hit the brick exterior of the nearby storefront. Chloe presses closer still, sliding a hand around Beca’s waist to hold her close. The action incites Beca’s back into arching so she presses more solidly against Chloe’s front, enjoying the sensation of their bodies slowly beginning to meld together so naturally. Beca reaches up to hold Chloe’s face, losing herself momentarily.

She is abruptly brought back to reality when she shifts her stance to nudge her leg between Chloe’s and the rough texture of the package still tucked into her jeans rubs harshly against her belly. She gasps, pushing Chloe back slightly, placing her hands against the collar of her jacket.

“Sorry,” Chloe says quickly, looking rather contrite. “I’m sorry, I just—I haven’t stopped thinking about—”

“No, no, um. Me too. It’s…” Beca gently nudges Chloe back further as she steps away from the wall. “It’s...I have to be somewhere tonight. See my dad.”

Chloe’s lips—already pink and swollen, sending a flash of desire through Beca’s body—curve downwards, but she nods in understanding. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes again. “I just thought…”

“No, I just...yeah. He called earlier and I should…” Beca blows out a breath, running her fingers through her hair. “I should...go. See him, I mean.”

Chloe smiles reassuringly, both of them relaxing as Chloe takes one of Beca’s hands off her jacket. She presses a slow kiss to Beca’s knuckles, sending a shiver down Beca’s spine. “It’s okay. I’m not really a...put-out-on-the-first-date kind of person anyway.”

That breaks the rest of the tension that had been lingering in Beca’s body and she has half a mind to say fuck it to her father (not a new feeling) and all of this bullshit and just go home with Chloe. She laughs, pulling Chloe boldly in for another kiss, but stopping before they can go any further. “Well. I mean, something tells me that’s a lie.”

Chloe scoffs. “Please. That wasn’t a date. You were just a hot girl I met at a bar.”

Beca raises an eyebrow. “And now?” she asks, a twinge of curiosity seeping its way into her tone before she can help it.

“One of the best first dates I’ve been out with,” Chloe murmurs. “And I want to see you again.” Her eyes seem to shine even more than Beca had previously thought possible. “If that’s okay with you.”

Beca finds herself smiling—a smile that very nearly stretches her face uncomfortably because she cannot recall ever smiling that widely. At least not in recent memory. “That is...super okay with me.”

“Super okay,” Chloe echoes with a playful smile. The sight makes Beca’s stomach swoop, but at the same time, she is only reminded of the pressure against her belly from both the anxiety and weight (figurative and literal) of the package. “By the way?” Chloe chirps. “I would totally break that first date rule. Just saying. If we just forget all that bar nonsense.”

Beca groans. “Shut up,” she murmurs, though she does not mean it. She wouldn’t mind hearing Chloe laugh for the rest of the night, but she knows she cannot.

* * * * *

Beca’s good mood dissipates fairly quickly as she punches in the number to her father’s gated house. She trudges up the path, ignoring the greetings and acknowledgements from the guards she passes along the way.

By the time she reaches her father’s study, passing all the ornate decorative pieces lining the hallways along the way, she is clutching the nondescript package in her clenched fist. Without knocking, she pushes through the doors.

He barely glances up from his book. “Beca. What’d I say about knocking?”

“I forgot,” she says breezily. She tosses the package on the desk in front of him. “This is yours, I believe?”

He sighs, taking his time to earmark his book before he removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Such manners,” he mutters. He peers at the package, reaching out to turn it over delicately, noting the small writings along its edge. “Didn’t know I asked you to go to Victor’s today.”

“I was…” Beca pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I was just having dinner there. They recognized me.”

“Oh? Having dinner by yourself? How was the food?”

“Fine,” Beca murmurs quickly, avoiding the first question deftly. “I didn’t have to bring this back, you know? You need to pick better fronts,” she points out, daring to show defiance for just a few seconds. She’s kind of banking on her father still being in a good mood.

“Do you have any suggestions?”

“No,” Beca responds quietly. Obediently. “It was just unexpected.”

“The price to pay when everybody wants a slice of the pie and we’re only just too willing to accommodate.”

Beca grimaces. She hates this aspect of their relationship. Whenever her father attempts to impress upon her the nobility of what they do. Or the respect they command. It makes her nauseous and ill to even entertain the thought of doing this for the rest of her life. She cannot envision it — not for herself and not for anybody she happens to be friends with.

Not that she has many friends. Less friends means less stakes in the long run.

“Anyway, that was all.”

“You should stay the night. I’ll have Beatrice make you up some breakfast tomorrow. It’s late anyway.” His eyes flash up at her. “Unless you have somewhere else you’d rather be?”

Beca schools her expression carefully as her mind quickly fills with images of fingertips trailing up her arm, down her side, across her tattoos. Delicate sighs. Desperate kisses.

Kind, bright blue eyes and a trusting expression.

“No,” she murmurs. “Nowhere.”

* * * * *

“Was that okay?” Beca asks expectantly, searching her mother’s eyes for positive reassurance. “I got all the notes right.”

Her mother’s lips twitch though they still rest in a gentle smile. “My dear,” she says gently. “It’s not about just getting the notes right. Your hands and your heart need to be in concert with each other.”

Beca’s brow furrows, a pout gracing her lips. “In concert?” she echoes.

Slowly, her mother takes Beca’s wrists and places her hands back on the piano. “Try again, but play from the heart. Nothing beautiful ever comes from following the rules.”

fin chapter 2 | AO3

#pitch perfect #fanfiction #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #mafia au #my fanfic #mine #text

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onyourzeus · 3 years

Text

• with you | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: with you pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you genre: flufffffff words: 2.9k

author’s note: requested by this anon asking for a lazy day with wonpil + some possibility of a food fight due to baking (i tweaked it a little bit, i hope you don’t mind)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

lazy days with wonpil are the best. it doesn’t happen often, though, because he rarely gets to spend this much time with you

you’ve been relying on voice messages, long texts and the occasional video calls before and during their subunit comeback promotions

granted you were super excited and absolutely stunned by their performances

not to mention the songs in the album are amazing, you have always been supportive of wonpil’s career

ever since you’ve known him, music has always been his top priority. he’s taught you so much of what he’s learned throughout the years being a trainee and a musician in his own right

albeit you doubt you’d ever reach his level of proficiency when it came to understanding music

you’re content just watching him sing, admiring the way he plays the piano so effortlessly, and being so damn lucky to be part of this important journey with him

but of course, it pains you to be so far away, long distance never gets better no matter what they say

as much as you follow along his schedules as a day6 member, you’d be lying to yourself if you said the end of promotions is your actual favorite part of it all

it means that wonpil has some free time to spare, and usually he likes to spend it with you

this weekend, you knew he didn’t have a lot on his agenda. you’ve specifically cleared the whole two days, logged off on all social media just so your attention can be focused solely on your significant other

you’ve been giddy all morning, waiting for wonpil to arrive at your place in mere minutes

when the two of you haven’t seen each other in a while, wonpil personally likes to have you all to himself in a space where no one can bother the two of you. this is why he doesn’t like you going over to their apartment

dowoon doesn’t have a sense of personal space or can he take a hint that wonpil doesn’t want anyone coming into the room when he’s just snuggling with you

so it’s a win win situation overall to have him in your place instead. the clothes he had left in the bottom drawer hasn’t been worn in a while by him.

(you’re afraid his scent would come off soon if you keep wearing his sweaters and pjs)

you hear the knock on the door and excitedly dash for it, seeing wonpil in the flesh with…

flowers!!

“hi,” he greets you shyly, the smile on his face neverending, only growing wider as you try your best to embrace him without squishing the gift he has in hand

“i missed you sooooooooo much,” you squeal, immersing yourself in the warmth of his body and his hand pressing against your back

it feels like forever since you last saw him, so you want to hug him just as long

“babe, babe— okay, baby, i can’t breathe!!” he laughs, jokingly coughing as he wiggles his way out of your death grasp. you’re not apologetic, only pouting while sliding your fingers in between his free hands

“do you want to invite me in?” he asks, the sass in his voice unavoidable and you’d like to slap it out of him

but this is what you missed, so you tugged at his hands and welcomed him in your apartment

“are these for me??” he hands you over the bouquet, recognizing instantly the camellia flowers delicately arranged. he doesn’t answer, only letting his pressed lips resisting its way to a smile tell you how it is

“thank you,” you say to him anyway, reluctant but giving in to what you’ve always wanted to do for so long.

you kiss his cheek, and it feels all so familiar but new at the same time

he gasps for a moment, brows raised up as if in mock offense but steals a quick kiss on your lips before you can question his silly antics

“thought you could get away with that huh”

and this is what you truly missed being with wonpil, side by side. the way he sheds off that introverted persona online and really ease into his comfortable ways with you. he’s full of love, of course, but there are times when he is subtly teasing with you as a form of affection

you place the camellias in an empty vase you find inside a cabinet. the two of you didn’t necessarily plan out what to do for the day, and that’s usually the case when he spends his free time here

“i just want to be in bed and… cuddle,” wonpil would confess, winning you over with his doe eyes. nine times out of ten, it works

but today you want to talk with him, catch up on what you’ve missed while he was busy with performing and going on variety shows. and wonpil complies because even though he loves just being lazy with you, having his arms enclosing your figure and dozing off that way

one thing he loves to do is also talk. and there’s so much to talk about!

you share the couch with him, and wonpil instinctively opens up his arms so he can wrap them around your waist

he puts up his legs on the coffee table, and waits for you to say something

“oh? this is allowed now?” he perks up and you turn your head to look at him, tongue darting out in response

“just because i need your scent to be in every corner of this place as much as possible”

“that’s…. a little gross, babe”

sue you for missing him that much!!!

but that didn’t really bother you, in fact you lift your own legs up to rest on his. as you guys find a comfortable lying position, finally you ask wonpil how he has been doing

you’ve probably already heard most of his stories through his messages and voice calls beforehand

but nothing beats listening to wonpil talk in person, and to watch him do it with your own very eyes

it’s something special that you want to keep for yourself, you understand that wonpil has to connect to his fans too. he goes on vlives, writes instagram posts directly addressing mydays, and just overall be relatable to them

and… it gets to you a little bit, not gonna lie. there’s so much of him that he gives to others, yet he doesn’t see it that way

you’re sometimes afraid that he’ll be seen as too fragile and be an easy target to break

but over the years you’ve known wonpil, you have only seen him get stronger. be more thick skinned, and it’s an admiring feat

“were you even listening to what i said?”

“about dowoon overreaching his leader status even after promos? yep, sounds like him”

wonpil looks utterly surprised, and you return his expression with a more menacing version

he bursts into laughter right at your face, and if you didn’t enjoy him tightening his grasp around you, you’d shove him off on the floor

“wonpil why do u keep laughing at me!!”

“you just have that face”

wow what a way to compliment your s/o thanks buddy”

“hey now,” he lets out the last few chuckles bubbling in his system, releases one arm around you to poke your nose with his finger. “thats the kind of face i love for a partner”

“well then consider yourself lucky,” you pout, and wonpil’s eyes shine even brighter

“i am.”

there isn’t a lot more that happens that day, you guys really took “lazying around” in its most literal form

since the couch is a pull out, wonpil helped you with setting it up and placing bedsheets on it while you grab the blanket from your room

he suggests if he can take a nap for an hour or two which resulted to a cuddling session before you both dozed off

the curtains on the windows to the side of the living room were drawn out, so the late afternoon sun found its way to the inside of your place

it was warm, it hit your cheek when you turned over so you decided to just lay in bed facing wonpil

when you’d be in and out of sleep, you see your boyfriend’s peaceful face just a kiss away from you

and so you do just that… kiss his lips softly as to not disturb him… you take it upon yourself to take in his features slowly while you can and

it’s such a sight to behold

nevermind the dark shadows forming underneath his eyes or the subtle stress lines on his forehead

you make it a point to do a self care skincare routine with him tonight. he’d enjoy the new volcanic mask you bought to try out

but setting that aside, wonpil is still so beautiful to you. you understand, out of all people, how so many have fallen for him too

hips lips that produce one of the most hauntingly elegant voices you’ve heard, his cheeks that paints a blushing rose when he’s being effortlessly cute, his eyes that glimmer whenever he’s having fun

however right now he has them closed, relaxed, as his chest breaths in and breathes out

you snuggle even closer to him, putting your cheek up against where his heart should lay, and listen to the beat of his heart

you feel your own pounding in the still of the apartment, only a faint bustling hum of reality outside your window

and as the sun shines on wonpil’s face this time, he slowly wakes up and you will yourself not too look

as you feel him shuffle while repositioning his arms that have encircled you all this time

“you awake?” he asks groggily, his sleepy hoarse voice sending you shivers down your spine

you can’t help but smile silly against his clothes

“mmm” is your response

“psst” he whispers in your ear, caressing the sides of your hair in a lulling manner

before you get too comfortable with his affection, you slowly pull yourself away and look at him

and you can never get used to it, to him

“i really, really missed you,” he mouths, almost inaudible, but you know it in your heart

suffice to say the two of you didn’t get up right away

now that it’s nearing sunset, you ask if he wants to get dinner or cook at home

“what if we bake”

“oh,” that wasn’t really in your mind, but why not? this means you get to spend more time with him, and it’s a great bonding experience. the two of you rarely do this sort of thing. sometimes he’s ask to cook for you, only to phone his mom during the whole process to help out

in the end of that conversation, though, wonpil would approach you if you were in the room or hanging out on the couch, attack you with those puppy dog eyes of him

“eomma hung up on me. says i should already know how to make stew without her help”

“do you need my help then, wonpil?”

“yes pls “ :c

so with baking, it’s perfect, because you guys can tag team

you settle on making brownies, craving some chocolate for tonight. you pull up a recipe on your ipad for reference

“babe where’s the butter,” wonpil asks behind you, rummaging his way through your fridge

“on the side, next to the cheese,” you tell him as you focus on reading through the ingredients

“... where’s the cheese”

“top shelf, wonpil,” you laugh, turning to see him struggling with messing around the many jars and miscellaneous stuff you have in your fridge

“ah, this needs to be more organized baby,” wonpil chastises you, finally finding what he was looking for

“sorry,” you sheepishly grin, but help him with the remaining ingredients

now that you have everything laid out, baking with him is.. a wild ride

you thought the cooperation between you would fall into a field of familiarity, but wonpil’s eagerness to do everything and have you just be sort of his “assistant” is bugging you a bit

“i can mix this in—”

“no no no, i got it. you’ll see, i got this”

“but wonpil—”

“no no no,” he repeats, holding onto an egg as he shakes his head at you

“see this? it’ll get cracked with one hand, just you wait” the smug expression on him just looks to adorable not to react to, but you know if you say something he’ll take it in a different manner. you keep your mouth shut and let him do his thing

he takes a second, three, five seconds before finally cracking the egg on the edge of the bowl

and spilling it all over the counter before he got the chance to put it all in

that’s your cue to laugh as wonpil stands there to take in the shame

and walk it off by washing his hands and wiping the mess

you didn’t mean to be so loud about his mistake, but you see wonpil blushing hard with his arms crossed

and you just know you crossed the line

“wonpiriiiii” you whine, trying to take his hands in yours. he won’t budge, not even looking your way

“it was an accident, you can just crack it with a fork or something” he relents as you sway your arms side to side, an attempt to calm him down and reassure him it’s nothing serious

and you actually love him more

“yeah but i wanted to impress you”

if only you knew wonpil

“you impress me every day just knowing you’re with me,” you tell him, and the cheesiness sends him gagging mockingly

the two of you would continue clowning each other while preparing the brownie mixture

taking turns with cracking the eggs, even at one point having a seriously uncalled for juggling competition with two eggs

that you immediately stop once you realize you don’t have back up eggs if this fails badly

at one point the brownie mixture has finally been combined, and you’re about to ask wonpil for the tray when you see him dip his finger in the bowl and pop it in his mouth

“mmm,” he reacts, before slowly reaching in to take another dip

“DUDE DON’T DOUBLE DIP” too late, he had already contaminated the bowl and was on his way to smear chocolate on your cheek

you didn’t even have time to speak his death sentence

the deed has been done, the cheek has been smeared as your nose sniff at the chocolatey smell on your face

“oh it’s on, wonpil”

“no it’s not,” he counters, and he’s already laughing with his pointer finger still up in the air, remnants of chocolate still coating around the skin

you want to approach it the same way he did, but you needed to go big

bringing the whisk filled with a gooey chocolate mess, you lift it up and take a slow, careful step towards wonpil

his laughter died down and is followed by a gulp down his throat

“you won’t dare, baby. i love you, i love you so much—”

“your words mean nothing right now, pil,” you say as sweetly as you can, comically licking some of the mixture that has traveled down the side of your lips. wonpil stared at your tongue, confused at his emotions right now

should he be turned on? threatened?

he doesn’t get another second to think as you basically paint the whole side of his cheek with chocolate

“i feel better now” you say in between your own fits of laughter, pointing the whisk at wonpil’s sorry face as he just stands there

taking in what just happened

so yeah, y’all don’t get to bake what’s left of the brownie mixture until… after so much of it has ruined your clothes, and the kitchen counter

fortunately, as the poorly spread out brownie mixture bakes in the oven, you and wonpil get to

share a bath together :)

maybe it was his plan all along because the smirk on his face doesn’t leave at all while you wash each other up

bath foam on his hair, on your nose

soapy kisses, the works

you’d indulge being skin to skin with wonpil this way, soaked in warm water with the smell of mint in the air from your body wash

you couldn’t take too long in the bath though as the brownies baked for a short period of time

“do you really choose brownies over me right now, babe? really?”

“wonpil the apartment will burn down if we don’t take them out of the oven”

…”

“okay point taken”

you finish up in the shower, put on your bathrobe and dry off your hands to hurry and take the tray out the oven

the brownies don’t look half-bad and evidence of the food fight you and wonpil didn’t even seem like it happened (courtesy to him voluntarily wiping everything down as you ran the bath quickly)

“so is this dinner?” wonpil asks, walking towards you with his matching robe around him

“how about some take out for now?” you suggest sheepishly, hunger calling out to you already

he agrees, and calls your favorite restaurant for some food

the two of you then spend the rest of the night eating rice from take out boxes and dumplings on the pull out sofa bed, never ending conversations of everything in life accompanying the hum of background tv noise

y’all even forget to eat the brownies as the dumplings and noodles had filled you up more than you thought

and that’s how you basically spent the first day he’s back with you, and the second is just the same

with more cuddling, sharing the shower, and enjoying every moment with him :) (less food fights though, he’s found out your sheer determination about such things… terrifying)

#day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #day6 x reader #day6 au #kim wonpil imagines #kim wonpil scenarios #kim wonpil x reader #day6 fic #dot series #by:jiae

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

Text

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Crossover Episode 1 Part 3

Hey, once again, Crossover time, with your host, me! Everybody clap your hands!!!

Lightning crashed, and thunder rumbled outside the ominous spire of stone and lost hope that was the Conformatorium. As Luz took in the sight before her, she turned a flat stare towards the smirking Witch next to her. “What was that you said about this place being super fun?”

Ignoring Eda’s chuckle, Luz panned her vision across the area, giving herself a rough idea of the layout for the building, before her eye caught on a poster tacked to a nearby wall. Walking up to it, she yanked it down to see an artistic representation of Eda and King, complete with Bounty. She let out a low whistle at the figure. “Wow, these guys really got the hots for you.”

“Yeah, but they’ve never caught me.” Eda preened with pride, deftly stuffing the flyer into her hair. “King’s got some moves of his own when it comes to giving people the slip.”

“Yeah! Just try and catch me when I’m greased,” King cheered, eager to talk about his skills. “I’m a squirmy little fella!”

“Heh, I’ll take your word for it.” Luz grinned.

Eda smirked, gesturing for Luz and King to come in closer. “Alright, I’ll make a distraction to keep Wrath and his goons preoccupied. You two will make your way to the Vault from above.” She paused to conjure up a platform, the transport they would use to ascend. “I’ll do my best to keep Wrath and the Guards from getting to you, but for that to work, I’ll need you guys to keep your heads down in there. Can I count on you?” She turned a solemn face towards Luz at her question.

Luz made a small show of mulling it over, before grinning brightly. “Don’t worry about it. This isn’t my first time sneaking around somewhere I’m not supposed to be, after all.”

“Ugh, enough with the emotions, let’s just go already!” King complained, eager to get inside.

With a huff of amusement, Luz leapt onto the platform, scooping up King with an indignant squawk, before signalling Eda to send them up. As Luz rose through the air, she calmed the giddy excitement bubbling up inside, letting her face and emotions go blank. She needed to focus, to prepare herself for the fight her instincts were SCREAMING was coming their way.

As the platform reached its apex, just short of the window they needed to get to, Luz dully noted, she once more picked up King, this time with only a slight grumble of protest, and launched them both upwards. As they soared through the window, Luz caught herself in a three-point landing, fist planted in front of her chest, legs spread to catch her weight, a practically superhero-esque look… and then King slammed into the ground next to her with a grunt.

Chuckling sheepishly, Luz pulled the small demon up. As they walked towards their goal, Luz couldn’t help but marvel at the interior; this place may have been an evil den of corrupt tyranny, but she couldn’t deny the place was stylish, in a “step out of line and get wasted” sort of way. One thing that bothered her, though, was how empty it was. Luz had been around the block more than once, and she was fully aware of how much crime could get up to in any civilization, especially one that cared more about preserving things a certain way than helping the people, so the sheer barrenness of the cells was… unsettling to see.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Hey King, where are all the prisoners?”

“Weh? I don’t know. Why do you ask?” King replied. He wouldn’t openly admit it, but he was kind of weirded out by how empty this place was himself.

Luz’s curious look gained a more serious edge. “Because, no prison, whether the prisoners deserve to be in it or not, should be this level of empty unless it’s abandoned.” Luz’s scanning of the surroundings gained a hint of nervousness at that point. “I just can’t shake the feeling that something bad goes on here. You know, besides the whole “imprisoning for failure to submit to societal norms” thing.” Her frank bluntness would’ve been funny, if the situation hadn’t been so grim.

King glanced around, now feeling far more nervous about being here. “Now that you mention it, a lot of people get dragged here, but you don’t really hear much about them afterwards…”

“Hey kid, how did you get out of your cell?”

Turning their heads in surprise, both King and Luz were mildly surprised to find actual prisoners ahead of them. The one who had called out, a Witch-girl with dusky skin, two prominent canines that bordered on fangs, and an almost sleepy look to her, was beckoning them closer. It made sense, no one liked being in prison, and Luz’s gut wasn’t giving her any warnings about her. So, with that in mind, Luz sidled up to the bars.

Luz cleared her throat. “Not a prisoner actually, also, not technically a criminal.” She ignored King’s shout of ‘Not Yet Your Not!’ “Mind if I ask how you all ended up in a dump like this?” Okay, maybe it was cheesy, but Luz wasn’t gonna not ask how a group ended up in prison; what other time would she get the opportunity?

The prisoner chuckled, a bitter sound, the type you hear from someone who doesn’t really expect to be happy ever again and is just going through the motions. “Never thought someone would have the time or desire to ask me that. I got stuffed in here for writing stories about food falling in love with each other.” She held up a notebook with an image of two vegetables kissing on the open page. “And I know you didn’t ask, but the name’s Katya. You’re the first person to actually care about me in a long while.”

“Same with the rest of us.” Commented the prisoner next to the now-named Katya, a pale-blue fellow with multiple eyes. “I got put in here for eating my own eyes.” He then demonstrated, preempting Luz’s question, popping out one of his eyes, swallowing it whole, and then regrowing it perfectly. It was as fascinating as it was disturbing.

A muffled thumping came from the last occupied cell. Turning to it, Luz saw a small, white, ball-shaped creature that seemed to be a head with arms and legs sticking out of it. A cloth gag was tied tight over what Luz assumed was its mouth, the thumping coming from the creature slamming against things as it furiously clawed and yanked at the gag.

Turning a questioning stare to the others, Luz asked, “What’s going with that one?”

Katya snorted, a tired humor in her eyes. “Yeah, she’s big on conspiracy theories. She ended up annoying the guards so much they gagged her to keep her quiet. Which I thought was kinda lame, she had some fun stuff to say. Also, she really dislikes the government, which probably didn’t help her either.”

Luz was furious. No, scratch that, she was beyond furious. She was so angry, all she could show was calm. King could physically feel the rage seeping off of her. Speaking in a voice so coldly furious, Luz bit out. “So, what you’re telling me, is that you guys haven’t actually committed any crimes, and got thrown in here for being different?”

Katya let out a sad sigh. “Pretty much kid. Wrath really likes throwing anyone he considers “unsuitable” for society in here. And we happen to fit his definition of unsuitable.” She gave a soft grin towards the still irate human. “But hey, at least we got the chance to tell someone, right? Not many get that chance.”

Luz hyper-focused on that last part, instantly trying to process that statement alongside her concerns from earlier. “What do you mean by that?”

Katya gave an ominous stare. “A lot of people come into this place, but it isn’t much of a prison. It’s more a waystop before they get shipped off to the Emperor’s Castle; whatever goes on in there, we don’t know, but some people come out, utterly broken… and others don’t come back at all. Because so few people are actually here at any time, there aren’t many guards, but considering how tough Wrath himself is, it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

Luz's blood ran cold. The details may have been sparse, but what little she had been given painted a rather… ugly picture. There was no way she could leave these guys here. Glancing around, she spotted the lever that would release the cells (she honestly wondered how she missed it at first), and started tugging on it. At the slight motion of the heavy piece of metal, Luz was torn between frustration at how slow-going it was, and satisfaction at being able to move it at all. Just as she felt she was making progress, she paused, the sharp rumbling of heavy footfalls approaching in their direction.

“What are you fools yammering about?”

The voice that spoke was sinister, rumbling, and had a grating edge to it that set every nerve in Luz’s body on fire. Just as the figure was about to enter visual range, Luz gave a leap, clinging to the shadow-cloaked walls above. The amazement the prisoners felt at watching her feat was quickly squashed as the source of the voice pulled into view. A hulking, muscular figure, what little of his body could be seen having a purple tone to it. His body was clad in a white tunic, a triangular badge displayed proudly across his chest; the plague doctor-like mask sent chills up Luz’s spine. There was no doubts, this was the infamous Warden Wrath.

The Warden loomed over his prisoners, an almost palpable ruthlessness bleeding off of him. Glancing down, he spotted what he assumed was the topic of their discussion. “Ah.” He pulled up what Luz could see was a copy of that same wanted poster of Eda she had seen before. “The Owl Lady.” He brutally crushed the paper in his grip. “She escaped me before, but soon, she will be within my grasp.”

Alarm bells began ringing in Luz’s head, and as she looked down and saw King, hidden in the dark corners of one of the cells, the blind panic in his eyes made it clear he felt that fear too. Suddenly a sharp gasp drew their attention. “Aiw!!! I can bweathe again!!” It was the last prisoner, having finally managed to work the gag off of her face. Refocusing on the present, the tiny inmate began a tirade at the sight of Wrath. “The voices of independence cannot be silenced!! We will suwvive, we will enduwe, we will cast off ouw oppwessows!! We will neveh be afwaid of you, you big old cweep!!!”

Speech impediment aside, Luz couldn’t help but feel impressed at the courage it took to speak your true feelings, even in such a bleak situation. That admiration turned to dread, however, when she saw the Warden move towards the lever to the cells. While he didn’t see her, she could feel the air hum around him as he easily lifted what she struggled to even budge.

As the doors to the cells opened, the smallest prisoner gasped in delight. “Hooway, I’m fwee!” Eager to take advantage of her apparent freedom, the conspiracy theorist took off like a bullet, only to be effortlessly snagged by Wrath. As Wrath ruthlessly pulped the prisoner in his hand, the resulting squeak more menacing than humorous as he laughed over it, he calmly stated something that would forever infuriate Luz, even years later: “Remember, there is no place for you in society if you can’t fit in.”

As Wrath wandered off, to where Luz didn’t care, still clutching and tormenting the small prisoner, Luz leapt down as silently as she could, King rushing to join her. As she opened her mouth, hoping to say something, Katya raised a hand to stop her. The light that had been in her and the other prisoner’s eyes? It was gone, that little spark of hope had been snuffed out. Still, Katya tried to pull off a smile. “Just go kid. Go and enjoy freedom for us.”

Luz and King traded sad looks, before walking off. King, he didn’t know what to do with this. He was used to feeling unstoppable, weakened form notwithstanding, so feeling… bad for someone was new to him; he didn’t like it. Luz, she was angry, furious, apoplectic, basically every word you could use to describe being angry she was feeling right now. Before everything happened, she was used to feeling like an outsider, like people didn’t want to be around her because she was different from everybody else, but even at her lowest, she was never made to feel as if being herself, that being weird, was unacceptable on par with the worst of crimes. Luz knew one thing; when this heist was over, she was going to bring this place crashing to the ground.

As Luz and King mulled over their conflicted emotions, Eda ran up, a mischievous grin stretched across her face. “Alright gang, the Warden’s distracted tormenting some tiny creature and- what’s with the long faces?” Her grin wiped itself away at the depressed aura surrounding the two.

Luz turned a nervous eye towards Eda. “Hey, Eda? How often do people get sent to this place?”

Eda blinked, a little confused at the question. “Fairly regularly, at least once a week I’d say. Why do you ask?”

Luz gulped, not liking what she was about to say. “Well, how often do people come back out? And, if people come here so often, why are there so few prisoners?”

Eda paused, considering the question. As the possible answer, or answers, dawned on her, she grew grim, face pale. “Okay, yeah, that’s something I hadn’t thought about before. We need to get that crown, and get out of here as soon as possible.”

Luz nodded, a look of concentration upon her face. “Yeah. We overheard the Warden earlier, and the way he was talking? I think this may be a trap to lure you here.”

Eda blinked at that, then facepalmed. “Ugh! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that! Well, we better make this quick then.”

King piped up at that. “Then we better get going! The sooner we get my crown, the sooner Wrath stops being our problem!” With that said, he stomped towards a pair of very impressive doors.

#the owl house #owl house au #fairy tail #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king the owl house #katya the owl house #tiny nose the owl house #warden wrath

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beevean · 3 years

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3 years of Sonic Forces, the biggest love-hate relationship of the series

[note: this is the translation of @latin-dr-robotnik’s article]

Today is an almost special day, today it’s the anniversary of a rather peculiar game in this series.

On this day 3 years ago, the (to this day) newest game of Sonic Team was released: Sonic Forces. After waiting a year and a half since its announcement (and four years since Sonic Lost World’s release), it was finally time to see what the last chapter of the main series had in store for us, and the results were… okay.

There were so many warning signs in the months before the release: a marketing campaign that was noticeably absent until the very last month, opting to focus more on Mania (let’s not forget that we still get videos about Mania even after the game’s release, not so much about Forces), which added to the uncertainty caused by the footage already available at the time, which ended up being confirmed a few days before the release, when some people managed to get the game early and streamed a good chunk of the game. While one of the leakers was just a bad player, the quality of the game itself was put into question…

A harsh reality

I’m not going to soften up my words here: for being the latest Sonic game, in a post-Generations and post-Boom era, Sonic Forces fell short of everything it tried to do (if it tried). Anything positive comes from the roots of something negative, and in the context of this anniversary, after 3 years without knowing a thing about the next game, it only emphasizes the frustration and the disappointment it caused.

Sonic Forces promised a world devastated by Eggman, an epic battle to save the world and win against a powerful enemy. However, of so many promises, not even the first one, the most basic one, was kept: it was an empty takeover, explained poorly (because they didn’t even show it, they told it through text) and developed even worse. All the potential of such an exciting world was thrown away as soon as the game didn’t even try to explain some of its most important questions (like why Green Hill was in the process of desertification); to this day we still don’t know what the fuck does the Phantom Ruby do, in Mania it has some powers, in Forces it has different powers, and it’s not clear where does it come from or if it’s more powerful than the Chaos Emeralds. It is disappointing to not be able to discover all this untapped potential, and it is so disappointing that one of the oldest works on my blog was an attempt to rewrite the beginning of the game, give it more context and a better footing to start the adventure.

This old leak dates back to 2016, when the game was barely announced, and surprisingly it ended up being real, very very real. Even the title “Sonic Wars” is true, and if you don’t believe me you can open the game’s folder and read the names that appear. Source.

The confusion and disappointment don’t end here. If you have read the mess of opinions and emotions that is my analysis of the game [translator’s note: the link is in Spanish], you may have noticed that one of the biggest questions never answered was, what’s up with the order of the levels and why is it so confusing? Between 2016 and 2017, there were some leaks and statements going around places like Sonic Stadium that confirmed that the game went through numerous changes, not just in the plot, but in the levels as well. Right now I can’t find these old posts (I’m surprised that the fandom didn’t archive them), but it was said that the original idea for Forces, then still called Sonic Wars, was to shine the spotlight even more on the Avatar, or Buddy as it was called; the decision was unanimously rejected by SEGA of America and Europe, forcing SEGA of Japan to order that the game was modified. In fact, I remember that the leak that mentioned this meeting between the SEGA branches was rather bad, with a very tense atmosphere and lots of disagreements.

This is the closest thing to a confirmation of the scrapped plot that I could find. At least it’s proof that I’m not crazy and that Forces was indeed more focused on the Avatar. Source.

The mess that is the order of the levels, the questionable presence of characters like Classic Sonic, and some of the details of one of the leaked scrapped scripts such as that apparently they considered to reintroduce Mephiles – all of this shapes the network of a mediocre game, created under the premise of “from the creators of Sonic Colors and Sonic Generations” but taking all the wrong parts of those two games, using an engine that has been proven to be less efficient than Unleashed’s and Generations (and I’m not talking about the Hedgehog Engine, which is the graphical engine – I’m talking about the game and physics engine of Lost World), and with short levels and… polarizing bosses, to say the least.

The result is a game that shows a lot of potential, but in practice it doesn’t live up to it at all, be it for its own limitations (being rushed like hell) or for a noticeable lack of attention to details; it didn’t succeed in creating a cohesive and coherent world, with levels that could be worthy of what has been learned in these years. This is the reality of Sonic Forces.

And yet...

Despite everything I’ve just said, despite all the unacceptable errors that Forces made, and despite all the terribly wasted potential… we still talk about this game.

There are many reasons. On one hand, Forces and Mania have been the latest Sonic games for 3 years now, which is tragic in on itself (Team Sonic Racing disappeared from the face of the Earth); on the other, we still talk about Forces because there is something that still attracts us to it.

It’s not the same attraction we feel for Sonic ‘06, though. Forces is not a complete, almost-franchise-killing disaster like ‘06 was, it’s not a giant meme that spread from the fandom to popular circles and internet figures such as the Game Grumps. People have been trying to fix Forces’ mistakes, but not on the same scale as projects that tries to completely recreate ‘06 with a radically different engine, or fix each and every bug in the original version. Forces is nowhere near as infamous, and so the discussion goes in different directions.

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Episode Shadow is still one of the most entertaining parts of the game, and one of the most important as well, as Shadow himself hadn’t been a playable character since… well, Sonic ‘06.

On one hand, there is a cult surrounding Infinite, one that I personally don’t agree with, and I don’t know if it’s bigger than Mephiles’ 15 years ago, but I do know that it exists and it’s still present. One of the ways Sonic Team tried to “go back to its roots” was to introduce a character like Infinite in a plot that was supposed to be “more serious”. Final results notwithstanding, Infinite managed to win the heart of a sizeable portion of the fandom, which still wishes for his return and development.

On the other hand, there is the Avatar, our personal OC with an impressive customization system, which allows us complete freedom, to the point that we could recreate characters introduced in Sonic IDW like Whisper the Wolf. What at first looked like a questionable idea, nothing more than a source of memes, ended up becoming the smartest idea Forces had, with a gameplay style that, in my opinion, retains a little of the old Adventure spirit, and even had some of the most fun levels in the game. While Classic Sonic ruined one third of the game, and Sonic was somewhat mediocre compared to his past feats, the Avatar’s gameplay style manages to keep its quality throughout the game, despite the fact that the plot keeps revolving around their presence instead of focusing on the other aspects of saving the world, which is... well, a little unfortunate.

Even I, who I’m not really into Sonic OCs, had a lot of fun recreating some of the characters.

And finally we get to the best part of the entire game: the music.

Even after three years my opinions haven’t changed much. Forces’ music isn’t perfect, it has its low moments (I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t like Light of Hope) and some disasters (F*ded H*lls lol), but overall it has good intentions and it has some pretty good highlights.

The use of synths, as overdone and criticized as it is, was an honest attempt to follow a trend present in older games, like Sonic Unleashed, where this instrument symbolized Eggman’s influence. An interesting touch that, while wasn’t completely successful, is appreciated.

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I still say that Fighting Onward is one of the best themes of the entire game, and Spaceport as the level benefits from having it.

Then there’s the best part of the entire soundtrack: the return of vocal themes, such as the main theme, the villain theme, and some of the level themes. I cannot explain with enough words how much fans were waiting for this, and it was brilliantly handled by the advertising campaign: a preview of the instrumental version of Fist Bump, a short peek of the Avatar themes, and finally the reveal of some of the major themes. It’s not surprising that it became one of the most appreciated parts by the fans. From the iconic intro of Fading World to the subtle nod to Green Hill in Set In Motion, every theme has something that makes it stand out from the rest of the game.

But even so, the rest of the music in the game has redeemable points as well. Forces in general distances itself from the music styles previously used in the series, especially from the variety of incredible sounds of Unleashed or even Lost World; but from time to time it still recognizably Sonic, like in the half-Megaman, half-Runners Network Terminal, in the extremely epic and underrated Last Judgement, or in the always-mentioned Ghost Town (not the only “good” Classic theme in my opinion, but the first one that comes to mind). Even the remixed Zavok theme sound better in Forces than in its original version.

A love-hate relationship

At the end of the day, the only thing left I could say is that Forces is still one of the most polarizing games in the series. 3 years aren’t enough to heal some of the wounds left by the 4-year hiatus, plus the disappointment of the time, but at the same time these 3 years kept alive the memory of its best moment, the discussions about the music and the uncountable groups of fans reunited to share OCs like the fandom has always done.

In this anniversary, I thought it would be interesting to revisit a bit the peculiar relationship I have with this game, as we wait for a new hype cycle for the next game. And maybe, just maybe, that will be the moment Forces will fade from our collective memory, at least for a decade, until new fans will look back to the good and bad this game has done. And I hope that, in the future, the situation of the franchise will also be different from what it has been these last years, in a good way of course.

This is all we have left of Forces today, a game that did not manage to capitalize on its opportunities, and a game that shames the legacy of the Unleashed-Colors-Generations era; but also a game that had some genuine, interesting ideas, and a different musical direction, one that (with some exceptions) was what the fans wanted. It’s a polarizing game, it’s a love-hate relationship.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic forces #translation #happy birthday forces #i've translated this article because it sums up my thoughts pretty well #i don't hate it and there are things i unironically like about it #but overall it was a big disappointment

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