#last image is from one of the in-game comics. he’s so sad and pathetic. he is like a wet cat to me

[speg-draws]

ouugh…… thge guy yippee yahoo ^^

[yarbz]

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

[hephaestiions]

Addictive Tendencies

@hprarepairnet​ & @slytherdornet​ - quidditch player ships challenge Pairing: Marcus Flint x Oliver Wood (Flintwood) Summary: “I hate him,” he whispers fiercely against the fist he stuffs into his mouth to keep himself from screaming long and loud at the heavens, at the Founders, at the bloody sun. “I hate him so damn much.”

“Makes me wonder why I bothered to show up, then,” comes the all too familiar heavy drawl, and if Oliver’s heart had dropped before, now it drowns. One thing leads to another. 

Warnings: Light angst, break-ups, everyone swears a great deal, mentions of nsfw/18+ activities. Rating: Teen. 

Word Count: 4k (yes, I know, it is very long for a Tumblr fic) 

For all that he feels almost dead going through the motions of life, Oliver comes alive on the pitch. There’s something about the clean, crisp scent of fresh air– the kind reminding him of the open fields close to home– and the adrenaline rush of mounting a broom that leeches into every cell of his being. It fires his synapses, jolts his entire body out of the sleepwalking trance he slips into during classes and meals and all the other mundanities that compose everyday life. Oliver can’t wait to go pro.

To leave fucking Transfiguration and Potions and Professor Sprout’s herb gardens behind. To make the familiarity of the broom clenched under his thighs and the roaring blood in his ears his livelihood, his reason to wake up every morning and  go back to bed each night without drinking himself into a stupor thinking of everything that could have– Fuck no. He’s not going down that road right now.

Right now, his focus needs to be narrowed down to that slim space between the hoops and the perfect, concentrated manoeuvre that will allow him to slip through. His focus needs to be on his game, his practice, not on… other things.

Vision tunnelling, Oliver tenses his calves around the reliable solidity of his broom, and corkscrews his entire body almost violently through the gap, veering dangerously close to the metal bars of the left hoop, emerging unscathed and out of breath on the other side. He wants to be happy.

Wants to be proud, because this is the first time he has executed this move flawlessly without either crashing his elbow or his knee or his side into some part of the hoops. He desperately wants to feel the joy he would be whooping with by now if this had been even six months ago. But all he feels is the desperate desire to hear Marcus shout, “That’s what I fucking call a Hummingbird, Wood, you fucking genius!” either from the stands or from his place on another broom by Oliver’s side. He’s met with silence. The wind moans, twisting its way through the branches of the trees lining the entrance to the Forbidden Forest. Oliver wants to drive himself into a metal bar just to work off some of the pent up frustration and rage gathering in his shoulders, his back muscles, his stomach. The almost physical ache gripping and tearing at his heart. He kicks out, and the broom bucks underneath him, buoyed in the wrong direction by an errant current of air. There’s a brief moment of sheer terror as his body misbalances midair, but he isn’t the fucking captain of Gryffindor for nothing. He lets himself fall for a second, letting his weight gather momentum, before pulling out at the very last second. Sometimes he wants to smash his entire body into a wall, but he knows better than to work out his aggressive tendencies on the unforgiving pitch.

His legacy deserves better than to be remembered as a gruesome splatter on the grounds of Hogwarts. Marcus though. Marcus can bloody well plummet to death for all Oliver cares. Except.

Except the very thought sends shudders down Oliver’s spine, and his hands inadvertently reach out into thin air even contemplating the prospect of letting Marcus hurt himself. Except that Oliver would take the fall before letting Marcus take it. He’s fucked, truly. “You’re a bloody fool, Oliver,” he mutters to himself with only the wind listening in. “And for once you’ve got something other than terrible grades to prove how truly fucked you are.” Marcus’ words echo in his head, a never ending loop of heartbreak and agony and gut-wrenching misery that no rationally thinking future pro Quidditch player has the time for. You– you know how the world is beyond Hogwarts, man. You know it’s not good to– to people like us, especially when we want to play and go pro, you know. It’s bollocks mate, is what it is, but it’s life and I guess I want a career more than a fuck. Because that’s all they’d been of course. A fuck. Fuck Marcus. Well and truly fuck him into next Sunday, next month, next bloody year. That line of thinking conjures up a whole new set of images that are doubly uncomfortable when one’s private parts are squashed onto a pole of unforgiving wood. His whole body itches and aches and buzzes with energy he doesn’t know how to work off, so he perfects his form on the broom and swoops in and out of the spaces between the hoops, tracing fast paced figure of eights that even the best of the best would have a tough time keeping up with. It’s mindless and the cold wind sniping at his cheekbones jars him into the present, into the steadiness of swerving past the bars of the hoops and spinning around like his life depends on it. Fuck Marcus Flint and his stupid, scared arse and his willingness to give up on everything Oliver thought was sacred to them. Fuck him. After half an hour, he wants to keep going, but his whole body resists, aching and burning along the lines of tension in his muscles. He feels heavy and tired, like a stone about to drop, and he turns on his broom to swoop down when– When he sees him. In the stands. The crossed arms, the wind billowing through strands of hair that are surprisingly soft to the touch (Oliver knows that because he’s touched those stands reverentially in the showers, in hidden alcoves, during warm, hot moments of kisses and mouths trailing over flushed skin–). The green robes are flying out behind the solitary figure in the stands like a cape from one of Katie’s superhero comics, and there’s no mistaking the identity of the man. Not for Oliver at least.   Marcus is watching him. Has been for Merlin knows how long. All Oliver wants to do is touch down and drag himself over to the stands and crash into Marcus’ arms, but he resists the urge. Instead, he laps a lazy loop in the air, before his tired body forces him to retire, and instead of picking the pitch like a sane person, Oliver perches on the edge of the middle hoop, crawling off the broomstick onto the thick metal. It’s surprisingly comfortable. It’s also a ploy to wait Marcus out, but well. It doesn’t seem to be working quite yet. Some part of him wants to swing his legs around his broom, swoop down beside Marcus and kiss him senseless. Some part of him wants to pull Marcus in and just relearn the feeling of their bodies touching again. He reins this part in with every ounce of control and every shred of self respect he has. He holds it back, letting it kick and rage and fester at the back of his heart, where he keeps his pain and his misery and his urges to do things he will regret within five seconds. That part of his heart– It’s ugly. He turns away from the imposing figure Marcus cuts in the stands with his biceps bulging and his hair, longer than it was since Oliver last ran his hands through it curling around his strong neck. Oliver can feel the pressure of it, of Marcus’ head pillowed against his lap when they could sneak an afternoon away to the Astronomy Tower. Marcus’ dark hair curled into Oliver’s fist as they talked, as they kissed, as they pushed each other’s clothes off with all the pent up energy of two prowling hyenas going in for the kill. He feels the tears rise, but he doesn’t want to cry. Not here anyway, with Marcus watching for whatever Merlin-forsaken reason. Doesn’t want to raise his hand in the tell tale sign of wiping away his tears. Doesn’t want to be weak.

Instead he stares at the setting sun even though the riot of colours across the sky only make him angrier. Why should the world get to move on and revel in its beauty when his life feels like radio static? Why should sunlight have the right to twirl pretty patterns into Marcus’ eyes when Oliver isn’t there to see it? Why does even nature get to laugh at his sad, pathetic arse and why doesn’t he ever get to move the fuck on? “I hate him,” he whispers fiercely against the fist he stuffs into his mouth to keep himself from screaming long and loud at the heavens, at the Founders, at the bloody sun. “I hate him so damn much.” “Makes me wonder why I bothered to show up, then,” comes the all too familiar heavy drawl, and if Oliver’s heart had dropped before, now it drowns. “What,” he says without turning around for fear of what he’ll see, “are you doing here?” “Saw you practicing from the Tower. Thought I might join you.” Oliver lets loose a laugh. “Get lost,” he says, and grimaces when it comes out slightly choked. “Or I’m telling Hooch you’re spying on the Captain for his plays.” “I have plenty of plays of my own,” Marcus says, and Oliver cringes at the suggestive undercurrent of the words. “Or did you forget?” When the weight of his anger and his hurt and his exhaustion crash into him, Oliver almost falls off his precarious perch. He staggers slightly and has to reach out with one hand to grip the edge of the hoop. His other hand slackens around his broom, and it teeters dangerously in his loose grip. Somehow, he doesn’t have the energy to hold it tighter. The tiredness creeps into his muscles, his bones, the raging fires of his heart, shrouding his entire being in a blanket of heaviness that he can’t shrug off. Here he is, trying to hold himself together, and Marcus has the balls to be making innuendos. “Last I checked, Flint, your plays were off limits. And you didn’t want any of mine, either. Which begs the question that I already asked you, why the fuck are you here?” Marcus is silent, because of course he is. Damn bastard, he can’t even give Oliver a good reason, a good excuse for his real purposes. “Come to gloat?” He asks, and his voice comes out a broken whisper. “Come to check in on poor Ollie and how he’s doing now that you’ve binned him?” “Oliver–“ “Shut up,” he says, he begs, and turns to face Marcus, and promptly has the breath knocked out of him. Because Marcus, oh, he’s bathed in the light of the golden sun, bathed in every shade of desire, coloured in Oliver’s dreams. There’s that uncertain turn to his lips, as though he expects Oliver to shove him away, tell him to leave, as though he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t look like he’s gloating (and Oliver knows how Marcus looks when he gloats, because goddamn, he’s lost Quidditch matches against this man). If anything, he looks a little wrecked, but in the most beautiful way imaginable, and Oliver– Oliver has never wanted to kiss someone more. Marcus sighs. His lashes flutter against his cheek and his shoulders droop slightly, and he looks a little lost when he gazes at some spot in the distance and says in a slow lilt, as though he’s searching for the words as he goes, “I– I missed you, Oliver.” And those words, the words he’s been craving to hear for a whole fucking month now wash over him, curl into the spaces that are yawning open and empty in the absence of the warmth Marcus had been when they’d spent those five glorious months in each other’s sunshine.

“We were just fucking,” he says anyway, because he’s too damn proud to be soothed of a month’s hurt by some half hearted confession of being missed. “Right, Flint? Just a fuck.” “You know that’s not true.” “Do I?” Oliver asks. He wants to be angry, wants his eyes to flash, wants to clench his fists and look ready to batter Marcus into a bloody pulp for daring to hurt him the way he did, but the words come out thick and heavy, laced with the burdens Oliver has been carrying alone. He never cared, he never looked at me as anything except a fuck, he just wanted some fun. Human beings, fragile creatures. Togetherness is more of an addiction than drugs and whisky could ever be. “Oliver, I– I was scared, and–“ “And you thought I wasn’t? You thought it was a breeze for me, that I hadn’t ever considered what the damn repercussions could look like–“ “That’s what you made it sound like!” Marcus throws both his hands up, and there’s a wild light in his dark eyes. “You made it look so easy with all your casual, hey Flint, care for a Butterbeer this weekend and Marcus, look at me and your damn smiles– and I– I was scared out of my mind Oliver, and you just looked like it was something you were born with.” “Born with what?” “Confidence! Fearlessness! Like you couldn’t give a fuck what people in locker rooms would think if you went pro, if I went pro, like you didn’t care that coaches would pay less attention to you, or make you the punching bag of the team, like teams would only sign you on if they had to pay you less if they found out about this.” Oliver sighs. It’s so obvious now that all through those months when Oliver had been caught up in a haze of a perfect love story of two Quidditch captains from historically rival houses, Marcus had been overthinking his choices, his career, everything. “This isn’t a hand job in a dark bed in the dorms, Oliver, and you know it.” He feels weary. Wrung out. “I wasn’t born with it,” he says, and looks away again at the darkening horizon. The sun is now a ball of red against a blue sky turning black. “What?” “Confidence, or fearlessness, or whatever you thought came easy to me. But you were scared about fucking up your career and I was scared of fucking us up. You were thinking about whatever pro team deals you dream of and I was thinking that something I would say or do would push you away because I’m too much of a stupid fuck for anyone to be with. Wood, have you got leaves for brains? Wood, if I knocked on that head would it ring hollow?” “Oliver,” Marcus says, and he sounds so shocked, so hurt that it’s like a string tied to the back of Oliver’s head has been pulled. He turns to face Marcus again, and he looks devastated.

He looks like he’s seeing Oliver for the first time.

“You really thought that I thought you were–“ “Bollocks for brains, yeah.” And because he can’t bear to see Marcus look so upset, he adds, “But that’s alright now. I’ll get over it, and you, and you can sign all the pro deals, and have a couple babies and no one will think you and I–“ Marcus slaps a hand over his mouth. “Shut up,” Marcus says, and oh, he’s so beautiful when he’s angry. “You’re a bit thick sometimes, I’ll give you that,” Marcus says in a voice so low that it sounds like he’s admitting state secrets instead of the most obvious thing that anyone who speaks to Oliver for five minutes can pick up on. “But don’t ever think that you’re stupid, or that you’ve got leaves for brains– Oliver what the fuck? The way you– the way you remember all the damn plays starting from the fucking 1790s and how you can recite precedents for every move anyone makes on the field and how you know exactly which player to pair with which one, which one needs to be benched– Oliver, you’re made for this. You don’t need some Transfiguration O to prove that.” He doesn’t know whether to believe this is happening. And worse– he doesn’t know what it means. If he’s imagining it, he’s further gone for Marcus than he can ever admit to anyone who is not a Mind Healer. If he’s not imagining it, Marcus is here, after a bloody month of ignoring him, breaking his heart, stomping on it with the butt end of a broom, to tell him– Rage curls in his stomach. He jerks away from the hand Marcus has now slid onto his jawline, regretting the motion immediately when the thumb tracing circles into the space behind his ear is dislodged. “And you’re telling me this now? After telling me you care more about your career than a fuck? Why bother? If that’s how you feel– it’s not going to change!” Marcus looks down. Oliver wants to curl a hand under that drooping chin, pull it up, kiss it better, but he holds himself back. “I was scared,” he whispers. Oliver wishes he weren’t so fucking easy, because the ice walls he’d thrown up to keep Marcus and his mind games out is already thawing. “I was so scared.” “You had a reason,” Oliver mumbles. He looks down. The drop to the pitch is sheer, sharp. If he falls, there’s no way he can be saved unless Marcus decides to be a hero. The thought brings a small smile to his lips. “I was being a coward,” Marcus says sharply. “Thorne– Thorne’s y’know, bisexual and all that, and he’s playing great game with the Magpies–“ “We can’t all be Thorne. And Thorne was stoned in Diagon.” “By one man who was arrested by Kingsley Shacklebolt. We might not be Thorne, but we can try.” The sound that rips itself from Oliver’s throat is rife with the pain and frustration of a month of second guessing and heartbreak. “Why does it matter?” Oliver asks, his voice carrying in the emptiness of the pitch. “Why the bloody fuck does any of it matter Marcus, you don’t want this, it was just a fuck–“ It happens so fast that Oliver doesn’t process it till its done. Marcus surges forward on the broomstick, invading the meagre personal space Oliver had tried to maintain between them so he wouldn’t reach out, be overly-familiar, push Marcus away the first time he’d dared to venture close in so long. Their eyes meet, and the pitch, the hoops, the past month and their discussion fades to nothing but white noise in the back of Oliver’s brain. Marcus, bless his balance on a broom, reaches out with one hand to cup the back of Oliver’s neck and the other comes to frame his face, resting on his ear. He waits for a second, for permission, to be pushed away, hell, Oliver doesn’t know, and then they’re kissing, Marcus’ hot, perfect, slightly chapped lips fitting against his. Something clicks into place finally. Something disjointed and broken snaps back inside his chest and the heavy weight he’d gotten all too used to carrying lifts like the healed wing of an injured bird. His heart soars with all the delight of a creature learning to fly once more, and something in this urgent, heartfelt kiss feels like a reassurance. I missed you, it says. I’ve been waiting for you. I’m sorry for hurting you. A million apologies in a single press, a single touch, in the soft breath that gusts over Oliver’s nose. It could be seconds, could be decades when Marcus finally pulls away. Oliver has to shut his eyes, clench them tightly to keep the traitorous tears from falling, from ruining this perfect moment that he’s certain will be shattered anyway when Marcus realises what he’s done. But Marcus doesn’t release a horrified gasp, doesn’t push him away, doesn’t retreat with the air currents back to the stands. Marcus stays there, floating gently on his broom, holding Oliver’s face between his hands, waiting for something. Oliver’s too scared to open his eyes and figure out what. He’s never felt so small, never felt himself be flayed open by circumstances rendering him raw and broken and ready to be picked apart. It’s exhilarating and terrifying, and Marcus is here to watch. He doesn’t know if this feeling of trust is warranted, especially after everything Marcus said and did, but he knows he can’t make himself be suspicious or cruel in this moment. He will hate himself forever if he pushes Marcus away right now, and of all the punishments Oliver has suffered, self inflicted misery isn’t one he particularly enjoys. But he can ask, so he does. “What now?” Marcus shrugs. Oliver feels it, the slight tremble, the tell tale stiffness and when he opens his eyes, he’s surprised to see tears in Marcus’. “Are you–“ “Shut up, Wood.” Oliver watches Marcus close his eyes, bite his lip, whisper something inaudible and pull himself together. Watches him try to be steady. To know that they are here, suspended midair in a moment in time, being unsteady together rouses the buried beast of hope in Oliver’s heart. The sun has set. The horizon is a bruised blue now, and Marcus still looks like a shining beacon of future possibilities set against a dark sky of prejudice and inevitable darkness. “So. Thorne.” Marcus smiles despite himself. Nods. “Thorne.” “You’re kidding yourself if you think you play as well as Thorne does.” This time, Marcus laughs. It’s slightly choked, and only barely there, but it’s a laugh. “That’s not the fucking point and you know it.” “Oh I don’t know,” Oliver teases. “I’m a bit thick, aren’t I?” Marcus sobers up almost immediately. Oliver’s heart goes into overdrive, panicking. What if he said something wrong? Reminded Marcus of why he left? But Marcus merely looks serious when he says, “It’s still true.” “What?” “About the teams and coaches and the players. The world– The damn Quidditch world isn’t kind to people like us.”

Oliver looks at Marcus, at the depth of his eyes that people ignore when they critique him for being a bastard (he is a bastard, Oliver knows, just a bastard with depth and capability for kindness that Oliver feels privileged to know exists), at the worried cleft between his eyebrows, at the self conscious way in which he pulls his lips over his teeth. “The pitch makes up for it,” he says. “If I get to keep you and the pitch and my broom, I don’t give a fuck about what coaches and players and galleons have to say.” Marcus lets out a sound like a strangled sob and rests his forehead against Oliver’s. If Oliver hadn’t been holding onto his broom with one hand and the Quidditch hoop with the other, he’d have held Marcus a little closer, but he settles for kissing Marcus’ nose.

“I like galleons,” Marcus whispers after a while. For the first time in a month, Oliver feels a genuine laugh erupt from his chest, into his throat, out of his mouth. He feels light. “You’ll make plenty, don’t you worry,” he says instead. “Promising Chaser, conniving little Slytherin, bit of a looker too– why wouldn’t you?” “Are you calling me handsome, Oliver?” Oliver snorts. “Stop fishing. If the whole Quidditch thing goes balls-up, you can always model for Gladrags.” “Which section of Gladrags?” “Let’s see. Much as I’d love to see you in women’s lingerie, I don’t know if the civil public is willing to, so I’d say the part where handsome young wizards pose in their underwear with their hands suggestively placed behind their heads.” “The civil public doesn’t read Gladrags, Oliver.” “Are you calling me uncivil?” They burst into laughter, something dark and heavy lifting from their beings, and the tensed, tightened bolts of coiled emotion and anger loosening with every quip, every little kiss, every stolen moment of this. Above them, the sky darkens as the universe’s speckled cloak unravels with the fading light of day. Somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, a Centaur looks up. Somewhere, a first year student catches a glimpse of two figures on one of the hoops of the pitch and looks away with wide eyes and a racing heart.

On the pitch, two boys share a secret smile in the darkness, and somewhere above them, the stars align perfectly.

[tev-the-random]

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

Part 1 – Infinite and Episode Shadow

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

Next Part ->

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

This shall be fun!

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

*“Fist Bump instrumental” intro plays*

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

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

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

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

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

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

I believe you are all familiar with this scene:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Image merely illustrative)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Oh yeah, this happened or whatever…)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘…Shadow?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Yes.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

The screen goes black.

Scene ends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Shadow…’

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

‘… We’re at war.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Ever heard of conveniently coming out of nowhere?)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[argentdandelion]

Review of Kaitogirl’s Underfell

Plot & Other Details

Like many works that trace Frisk’s journey through the Underground, the plot is pretty simple and linear. Frisk rewinding time when killed slightly complicates the timeline, but Frisk has only died three times so far.

As Underfell works go, the work is mild. As expected, there's sometimes blood (though rarely in large amounts), and plenty of swearing. Despite the setting, characters are often mean, cynical, and aggressive rather than outright evil or murderous, and are easily pacified. Situations are also rarely very frightening or violent. Along with its simple, rounded, relatively well-lit style, it's much milder than HorrorTale or the famous Flowey is Not a Good Life Coach.

Characterization

Frisk

Given the situation, Frisk is rather bold, though still friendly and pacifistic. At first, they think they’re dreaming, explaining their unworried approach. However, when Toriel kills them in an escape attempt, they realize they’re not dreaming and break down, sobbing. Yet they quickly recover after dreadful realizations, fights and even death, becoming a happy camper once more. Literally: it's like Frisk is just an experienced camper lost in a bear-filled forest, rather than a strange land of monsters trying to kill them. They even feel safe enough for Flowey to read books and history plaques to them, despite Flowey’s reminder they’re in a hurry. (This might be explained by Frisk being too young to understand the danger they’re in, or realize their power makes them unkillable)

While friendly and forgiving, sometimes Frisk is insistent, such as yanking Flowey out of the ground to put him in a boot and thus carry him into Toriel’s house.

Flowey

In many Underfell works, monsters' morality is basically flipped: good characters are now 'evil'. Thus, the murderous, sociopathic Flowey is now a helpful companion, often carried by Frisk. Though that's true here, Flowey is not sweet or innocent. He is prone to anger, frustration, and indignant outbursts, and sometimes intimidates weaker monsters with a scary face. He says he "can't console people", and smacks Frisk to make them stop sobbing. Flowey knows "in this world, it's kill or be killed", but is sad and resigned about it. Overall, he might be as Flowey once was before choosing murder runs.

In this work, Asriel was once a jerk: he took Chara to his parents while eagerly asking about killing them. Thus, it's likely Flowey is only 'good' because Asriel was once bad. Notably, Flowey mentally calls himself 'Asriel', apparently only coming up with 'Flowey' when Frisk asked for his name.

Toriel

As expected, Toriel is meaner and more violent than in canon. Indeed, Flowey is afraid she'll kill him and Frisk if she spots the two of them, and is surprised when she doesn't. It's likely she outright kills monsters in the Ruins: Flowey notices one hallway is "dustier than usual", and afterward her clothes have dust stains. She’s more disdainful of Flowey than in canon, calling him a 'weed', threatening him, and initially refusing to let him into her house.

Her sadness and long isolation apparently damaged her social skills, or even sanity. Her pie is very burnt, and has so much cinnamon it makes Frisk cough. Having run out of butterscotch, she put in monster dust instead, which isn't at all reasonable. Though she would surely know how bad the pie was, she aggressively insists Frisk eat it and not even think of throwing up afterward. When Frisk tricks her to escape, she calls them ungrateful and burns them alive at the exit.

Yet, she can still be kind: she sheltered Frisk, gave them food, tucked them in and gave them a plushie as they slept. (Though she glares at Flowey for noticing the latter two) Frisk points out her kindness in the fight: they say they don't really want to leave, and that's she's not evil, just lonely and sad. Toriel is stunned. She breaks down, sobs, and says: "Why are you being...so nice to me?” However, she is so deranged she soon "realizes" Frisk's kindness is a trick, a prelude to greater horrors, and she chases them out of the Ruins.

Papyrus & Sans

Sans hasn’t actually changed much. He has a taste for meaner, darker jokes. Compared to other characters, he is uncommitted: he’s neither especially helpful nor harmful to Frisk, though a few of his actions could have gotten Frisk hurt or killed anyway. While he does kill Frisk with an electric shock from a joy buzzer, when Frisk reloads and refuses to shake his hand, he guesses that the buzzer would have probably killed them anyway.

Here, Sans definitely knows about Flowey. Though he knows Alphys had been looking for Flowey, he didn't report him: he found it more entertaining to keep seeing Alphys throw a fit. (Notably, he asks Frisk's name, unlike in canon.)

Papyrus is even more confident and egotistic than before, as shown by the even more muscular snow sculpture of himself. While canon Papyrus never dismissed others for his self-enhancement, this Papyrus does just that, calling Frisk a "pathetic weakling". He is still a skeleton with high standards: while more vicious, he insists on fair puzzles and fights. (despite talking about how much he'll benefit from capturing Frisk)

Art

Left: The first page. Right: A re-do of the first page, showing improvements in shading and lighting.

Though not as polished and precise as other comics, the art improves over time. Indeed, there's a big jump in quality on the last page of the Snowdin arc and later in Waterfall, too. The lineart is crisper, the shading better, and the colors richer. (if very purple) While the hand-lettering has tight and irregular spacing at first, it improves a lot midway through the Snowdin arc.

As appropriate for an "edgy" setting, characters are toothier and spikier, to the point even Moldsmal and Papyrus's house (using icicles) are spiky. As expected for Underfell, characters look scarier, with duller, darker colors. Red and black (unsurprisingly) dominate the work: not only are many characters’ clothes red and black, but even attacks are often red. (Except fire, oddly enough: that's blue instead.) Colors are changed to darker, duller, and redder shades overall.

The right image illustrates about half the colors in Snowdin.

Often, this results in shades one could broadly call "purple", especially reddish purple. For example, the walls of the Ruins are reddish-purple, and sometimes Snowdin's snow is purplish-taupe. The purple-ification is especially obvious with the Echo Flowers (once cyan, now phlox), Waterfall (once dark blue/indigo, now dark bluish purple) and the gratuitous purple Moldsmals. Indeed, it's so purple one could easily call this work "that purple Underfell".

Yet, one could also call this "that low-green Underfell". Other than Flowey's (often dull) green stem, there is practically no green in the Ruins. Things get greener in Snowdin, though the trees are a fairly dull shade. (Oddly so: the trees were actually blue in-game). In Waterfall, green becomes rare once again.

Yellow and orange are rare, too, if less so. Frisk's skin is not mango-yellow, but an only slightly yellowish beige. Monster Kid is mostly a washed-out orange (who gets even less yellow by Waterfall), and wears red-and-black clothes. Even monsters' outfits have less yellow, such as Papyrus, Shopkeeper Temmie and especially the Nice Cream Man. In some cases, though, the work adds yellow: Napstablook and Toriel have yellow eyes, Sans has a yellow tooth, and Undyne's armor has yellow accents.

One can get used to the limited color scheme over its hundreds of pages. But the bright, green-and-yellow palette of Flowey’s dream sequence in Page 126 and Waterfall’s yellow history-plaque flashbacks remind the reader of the limited colors.Even the comic itself lampshades its dark, limited palette: Papyrus's color tile puzzle is various shades of grey, black, and white.

Conclusion

For those who want something a little scarier and unhappier than canon Undertale, but aren't quite ready for darkfic or standard Underfell approaches, Kaitogirl's Underfell is a perfect middle ground.

[homesception]

May 31, 2013 - part 1: wherein Lobac eats a cookie.

To be fair, it has been like two hundred years since my last update.  That’s a pretty good nap.  Just means I’m all the more rested to work on new stuff, right?  I mean, I need to keep a spritely pace up if I still plan on catching up to Lobac’s liveblog before said liveblog catches up to the comic.  Which for sure is still an actual thing at all, and not a bit of exclusive humor between friends.

Last time Lobac was getting into some theory crafting and analysis of the classpect system.  I didn’t have much to say about that at the time, particularly not much that wouldn’t qualify as spoilers, so iirc I was mostly just responding with random thoughts and video links, half of which are dead now.  There was a bit left over looking at the troll’s perster names, which was also good stuff, but lacking anything coherent to say about it, I’ll just gloss past the rest of that post, apart from:

Lobac said:

Thank you all for sticking around °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

As if you could ever get rid of me.  ~{@PQ}~

Moving on, we rejoin the comic with PM visiting the Black Queen to retrieve the mysterious GREEN PACKAGE, which had been impounded by agents of the Black Court as a result of a traffic violation.  The Black Queen cuts an imposing figure, and Lobac is, of course, duly imposed.

later, Lobac said:

Are those… tentacles ( ´ _ ｀) I thought only the imps were affected by the prototypings?

OH SHIT OH SHIT THAT LOOKS SO COOL HOT DAMN (゜▽゜) Wowow look at her joints! Look at all the carapace-y stuff going on there!

These days, Lobac’s soft spot for this particular sort of shiny, black, possibly betentacled monster-type aesthetic is well documented.  I’m pretty sure she would have loved the black queen’s design even if it wasn’t just objectively cool as hell, but that certainly doesn’t hurt.  I’m kind of sad that we never got a proper fight scene out of this particular version of her.

That’s not a spoiler is it?  I’m pretty sure that’s not a spoiler.

Yeah, the random objects the kids threw in the general directions of their seizuresprites are directly affecting the final boss. NOTHING COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG HERE EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE

I don’t see the problem here.  Nothing the kids could possibly put in those sprites could be at all unsettling or dangerous.

haa haa.  hee hee.  hoo hoo.

Her face is so weird though It’s Jaspers-shaped, and her eyes are constantly narrowed, I can’t even tell whether it’s in distaste or amusement

Why not both?

Andrew sure is proud of that hand’s close-up She’s not even dramatically pointing she’s literally just saying “yeah I dunno anything about that kinda shit you best go down there and ask my pretty princess, I mean, subordinate”

It is a pretty great hand, honestly.  I think this particular image gets called back to a few more times yet.

Yeah Rose! You go and fulfill your as of yet unclear vaguely Seering-related destiny

Yeah, Rose!  Get on that, maybe!

ROSE NO YOU ARE 13 THAT IS GONNA TASTE AWFUL TO YOU Heh I legitimately don’t know whether her mom would be proud of or disappointed in her if she could see her now Is this an act of defiance or emulation Just silly teenage antics, probably, but I’d like to think she misses her

Rooooooose Rose nooooooooooooooooo （ ´ω｀） Ehehe I love how the artstyle turns super silly to reflect how upset/surprised she is

These two panels constitute one of the most iconic funny moments in the comic.  It works really well.  Shoot, I should have done the post topper-edit based on these, huh?  Oh, well.  The one I already did took like four hours, mostly due to my extreme rustiness, so I’m not going back now.

Otherwise, I also like to think of Rose missing her mom here.  Maybe not admitting it to herself, but still.  I also still ascribe to the “everything Mom ever did was 110% unironic, Rose made up the whole passive aggressive conflict between them in her head, her mom wasn’t passive agressive she was just a bonkers drunk rich lady” headcannon that I think I spoke about ages ago in this very liveblog.

Anyway, yeah, this is both a hilarious joke and a fantastic little character moment for Rose.  Another contributing factor to Rose being my big early favorite with a seemingly insurmountable head start in the ‘best character’ race.

Actually, lately, since the end of the comic, she’s been gaining ground again for me?  I mean, one of the trolls definitely surpassed her for most of my Homestuck fan life, but... eh, whatever.  There’s no way I can getting into how my feelings about those characters developed over the comics life without being way more spoilery than even I’ve already been, so that kind of talk will have to wait for later.  Even if later means ‘years from now’ or ‘never’.

BOO FUCKING YAH, IT’S THE WHITE QUEEN Or Windswept Questant, for now She’s also as of yet uncorrupted by the kids’ silly sprite shenanigans

Lobac had been waiting for this reveal for a while, I think.

PM: Command John to put the carved tablet into a pyxis.

You follow the command telling you to command John to put the carved tablet in the pyxis and type, “John, put the carved tablet into the pyxis.” You successfully do that, and he successfully does that too. Everyone is friendly and cooperative.

Ah yes, you so rarely get this kind of friendly cooperation from narrators these days

It was a rather uncommonly tidy sequence, for this comic.

Shit I just remembered those typing hands we saw when trying to name Jack, the reader is like a physically present entity??? Maybe???

What prompted this thought?  The earlier black queen hand image hanging in your head, then a bit about narrators entering text, and that old bit just pops up?  It’s cool how brains work, making intuitive connections and all that.

What if we eventually zoom out to reveal a human exile commanding everyone. We’ve only been watching that human mess around up until now. The real story begins when they just suddenly go “whelp that was kinda fun. gotta look for food tho” at an incredibly dramatic moment.They turn away from the console.  And then we watch them slump through the desert for thousands of pages and their journey of introspective self-discovery is the actual story. Yes.

Shit, Lobac just predicted the whole narrative!  No point in continuing this liveblog, I guess.  “[#P%]t

Well, obviously this means that WV has an uncanny knack for distances and PM has one for sounds AR can probably track down crimes by their scent He’s like McGruff the Crime Dog, but a little less fluffy

I used to love McGruff the Crime Dog.  Until I grew up and realized he was a tool of THE MAN.

dear gOD SHE REALLY IS PUTTING JACK IN DRESSES (*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ He and Slick are basically the same person, right? Oh man he is gonna stab the shit out of her one of these days

~{%|%}~

Jack Noir, more like JACK NO. NO YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE OUT THERE MURDERING PEOPLE AND FROLICKING THROUGH THE STREETS WITH YOUR ASSHOLE CREW. WHAT ARE YOU DOING THIS IS PATHETIC o(`д´ ｡)

I’d say this is a “be careful what you wish for” moment, but I think Lobac knew exactly what she was doing here.

Ticket? Oh, this thing. Ha, ha, look at that, you are holding a ticket. How did that get in your hand? It belongs on the desk with the others. No, you are not here to pay a parking ticket. You explain to the frightening man that you are here to pick up that green parcel.

GIVE ME A C! GIVE ME A U! GIVE ME A T AND I AND E! sheeEEEE’S A CUTIE!!!!

Honestly, they’re all cuties.  the cuteness of the entire cast, even the villains mostly, in both visual depiction and personality, really is a big selling point of the whole comic.

There was a time when I wasn’t super into cute things.  I was never viscerally opposed to cuteness, never when through a virulently anti-girly-stuff phase, but these days I’m MUCH more into things being cute.  I just like cute characters!  Sure, I like things that are somber and spooky, but the best is when they’re somber and spooky AND super cute!

Like, Hollow Knight.  That whole game is like exactly my favorite aesthetic these days.  Sad and morose and dark and adorable.

But more often than not homestuck still comes pretty close to that ideal.  You just want to hug the shit out of all of these doofuses, a few stab wounds here or there be damned.  Speaking of stab wounds...

WHOOPS TENSION. THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT. I DO NOT ACTUALLY WANT YOU TO START KILLING PEOPLE OK

Maybe Lobac didn’t know what she was asking for earlier.

Wait, the crowns, what the fuck, he wants her to KILL THE KING AND QUEEN??? SHE’S JUST A MAIL LADY ヾ(´･-･｀)ノ”

How does he even know she’s desperate enough to kill people just to get one package?

The PARCEL MISTRESS departs with her mission of double agency. You wonder if she’ll actually be so foolish as to attempt to uphold her end of the lopsided bargain. You make a policy of handing out a REGISWORD and a HITLIST to just about everyone who enters your office. But you never think anyone’s actually going to GO THROUGH with it. 

What a phenomenal asshole That explains that

pretty much.  As for the box itself...

Yeeeeah you’re not actually gonna show me so, go ahead, taunt me, get it over with

PFFFFPFPFPFPFFF WHAT SOMETHING COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS APPARENTLY? NOT AS RIDICULOUS AS HIS FACE THO. Magnificent asshole cutie

Hahah, \[&P%]/

Anyway, at this point the action cuts back to the kids, and that seems a good a time as any to take a break.  I could just save this as a draft and finish the rest of lobac’s post later?  I mean, then I wouldn’t have to take extra time for another panel edit?  But I kind of want to post something now, so I guess well do this one in parts again.  part 2 scheduled for, let’s be ambitious and say may 2022

How did I ever use to have the time for this blogging shit?  I’ve been working on this for like six hours, and only got like a third of the way through one update?  I guess I was just younger then.

I’m so old now.  Time just gets away from me.

And my back hurts all the time.

[onebizarrekai]

Here we go…

I got around to analyzing the Cross x Dream comic, and, well, let’s just say I found some stuff I kinda wanted to bring attention to… whoops… sorry in advance? (I’m not trying to hurt anyone, I’m just being overly observant as usual.)

And no, this actually isn’t another rant about how Nightmare is unloved, thank goodness. This is supposed to be half comedy, so only take it half seriously. My strong reactions to things are for comedic effect, I mean. In fact, most of it is simply my reactions to the comic while I was reading it.

I don’t own any of the images used.

Update: Since the Cross x Dream comic was abruptly discontinued, this post doesn’t have much importance anymore, but I’m still going to leave this here for… historical purposes? Yeah, let’s just go with that.

So, what am I REALLY doing today?

I was reading the comic and noticed a few inconsistencies. Or… a lot of inconsistencies? Also some moments where established logic isn’t implemented or considered. This comic actually has a lot of information in it, but… some of it doesn’t make sense, and some things are changed (making it hard to know what’s actually canon or possible) so I’m here to reveal what exactly that is.

So…

Once upon a time, there was a skeleton named Cross.

What a BEAUTIFUL face.

-anyway-

He was a ‘cross’ between Sans and Chara from Xtale. Canonically, they are two separate beings in one body; to be precise, Sans absorbed Chara to keep them from being up to no good and causing trouble in the neighborhood, and this ‘fusion’ became Cross. After a while of acting like two separate entities in Sans’s body, Sans (or just Cross) decreased Chara’s control, reducing them to the state of a phantom that follows him around and is annoying. Except, Cross kind of went insane, so he started doing a bunch of stupid stuff that Chara wanted him to.

After a series of unknown events that tie into this comic known as the Cross x Dream comic, Cross ended up sealing Chara away entirely, leaving only their determination for him to use.

There we go, I found the pictures. (senpai was so proud!)

So um. Let’s jump right in. That thing about killing someone? Yeah, uh, news flash--

OOPS! That’s different… (oh well, I can understand why killing people would also work, it’s just not consistent with Underverse)

Anyway, let me get back to my other point.

Yes, determination is powerful. But, take into account that he only has half determination. In the game, determination, when not controlling time, can keep you alive in dire circumstances. But just because your HP is going back up to full or even fractioning into tiny amounts, that doesn’t mean that you aren’t DYING.

You might make a point about how your HP won’t drop any further down after that, but remember that it only applies to magic that isn’t being used by Sans (or anyone with the karma effect). Most of the attacks that I’ll mention in this are melee attacks that don’t just take off HP, but also hurt you physically and can indeed cause death if left unattended.

And you know what determination doesn’t do? The one thing that it’s never done in the game? It has never restored your health. You can die again and again, and your health can split into fractions, but it can’t restore your health. The thing that restores your health when you’re facing Asriel in the game is when you use the ‘dream’ option, and it gives you an item that restores your health. Hoping increases your defense. Determination alone can’t do anything for you in that matter. And if you’re not doing a pacifist route, you don’t have access to these health-restoring functions.

Anyway, why am I talking about this? Well, it ties into everything else.

Our good old friend Cross only has one HP. Actually, in Underverse, he only has HALF AN HP. But let’s say, just for the sake of something unexplained, he has another half of a soul now. (also I just realized that health bar makes no sense it says he only has half an HP total and the bar is still only half filled like wtf)

Man! Isn’t that a pitiful health bar. But thanks to his determination, he can last a little longer than normal.

Apparently… a lot longer?

Oof. That’s gotta hurt.

But somehow, he survived.

Eh.

You’re a little late in saying that, Dream.

But wait! Cross is somehow still alive. He got stabbed through his fricking eye and somehow recovers completely later?? Dat determination. (also his eye is blue? I thought that was a misconception and that colors aside from gold and blood colors don’t exist in his universe?)

ALSO CROSS MADE A PORTAL. He’s not supposed to be able to do that?? The whole point of Cross and Nightmare’s deal TO BEGIN WITH was that Nightmare would teleport him through AUs because he couldn’t! (Edit: Never mind, he can teleport to places he’s already been.)

Uh, Nightmare? I hope you remember that killing Dream’s gonna kill you. Geez, you gotta stop making stupid spontaneous decisions.

Whoa. I just realized how intense this escape is. But you know, it would still be more practical if Nightmare decided to attack from the side the barrier was on rather than behind them.

Anyway, I’m getting kinda distracted.

Back on track.

Dream heals Cross in Haventale, but it’s still pretty insane that he survived that.

LEARN TO BE PATIENT DREAM HE GOT IMPALED MULTIPLE TIMES JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT INJURED DOESN’T MEAN--

wait

DREAM DIDN’T PATCH UP HIS FRICKING EYE ARE YOU KIDDING ME HE CRAPPILY BANDAGED HIM EVERYWHERE ELSE AND DIDN’T FIX HIS EYE

No. (slaps self) Stay focused.

FRICK YOU HAVENTALE SANS HE’S INJURED

Oh. Frick. Okay. So yeah. WHAT THE HECKING HECK

Like I said, determination has never been able to heal?? (GASPS)

okay fine people can do whatever they want I mean who hasn’t made up some headcanon about what determination can do

Okay, so, his body healing itself was obviously caused by food, but if that’s the case, that means that people’s health bars DO indicate their body’s health and abilities and isn’t just an imaginary number (which is important later). That still doesn’t give his SINGLE HP any more strength to withstand insane attacks like--

Whoops. Here we go again. (am I the only one who laughed at this scene? Cross so had it coming)

Surprise! He survived. How’s that one HP treating you?

how is he supposed to look at himself HUH KILLER you got a fricking mirror or something well you know what I won’t be surprised if you do because you’re such a pretty boy that you probably carry one everywhere you go

But you know who else has one HP?

This guy! And after ONE stab from Nightmare, he’s dead.

Yeah, maybe this goes to show just how powerful determination is. But… you know. Cross only has HALF DETERMINATION and he’s surviving things MULTIPLE times stronger and more intensive. But fine. We’ve established that determination does crazy things… but that’s actually not the main point. You’ll see what I mean.

Oh dear! Look at this, Dream got inexplicably wrecked. Come on, couldn’t we have seen Killer beat the crap out of him so I can at least say what exactly happened?

Fine. I can speculate.

There’s no blood, so Killer didn’t use a knife yet. There still aren’t any real injuries though. Looks like he just got kicked around in the dirt a little. (I mean, he obviously still has the strength to make dramatic sad eyebrows.)

But you know? Must’ve been a lot of kicking around in the dirt. Cross can survive getting repeatedly stabbed with only one HP, but Dream?

SURPRISE

THIS SUPPOSED GUARDIAN HAS NINE HUNDRED NINETY NINE HP AND BECOMES INCAPACITATED AFTER GETTING KICKED AROUND A LITTLE.

THAT’S NINE HUNDRED NINETY EIGHT MORE HP THAN CROSS HAS. YET--

Cross can still pull of things like THIS after getting come on and slammed and welcome to the fricking jammed.

Like. Holy shenanigans. He fricking cut off Killer’s arm. Do you realize how much strength it takes to cleanly cut off someone’s fricking limb?

Look at Dream, crying like that--this is just sad. Not to be Nightmare (which I’ve kind of been throughout this entire thing) but I can’t even begin with how pathetic and awful it is to rely on someone so much weaker than you for support. Cross is injured and bleeding; he’s dying. DYING. Dream clearly isn’t hurt as badly and and there he is, crying and clinging to his knight in fluffy armor.

Then again, he just got stabbed in the foot with a knife, which is definitely painful, and Cross probably got used to shutting out pain (not to mention is probably high on adrenaline), but still. These HP numbers are starting to get me questioning this, because earlier it was established that HP really does indicate someone’s physical ability.

And remember that thing about how hopes and dreams are what boost your defense and HP? Yeah. Dream has that on TOP of having 999 HP.

Oh, and there’s one more thing that I realized.

I remember when I was ranting about how Cross started dissing Nightmare and mentioning that Dream didn’t make a mistake he didn’t have any reason to, someone told me that he was trying to get on Nightmare’s nerves on purpose. Trying to make Nightmare hate him so Dream wouldn’t get hurt. I was like, Dream would never allow that. He still loves his brother. Cross clearly doesn’t care about that, which indicates a lack of respect for Dream, especially because we thought Dream was unconscious. But that brought us back to the fact that Nightmare just ruined a ‘perfect’ AU, and Cross was caught up in the moment, which is totally understandable, but…

But, surprise surprise, Dream wasn’t unconscious. And he wasn’t even badly injured yet! He was basically beat up like a kid in a schoolyard. Yeah, that’s unpleasant, but you’re still alive, and I’m sure that if you had the will, you could at least communicate. Dream didn’t even do anything while he still had the chance. While he still had the power to walk. You’d think with all that HP, he’d have a stronger resolve to like, you know, do something.

Ah, gosh. I’m sorry. That kinda turned into another rant. It wasn’t supposed to.

Sorry if I didn’t end up making any points with this. It was pretty fun to make though, and you can feel free to laugh at my inbetween comedic reactions to things.

If you’ll excuse me… I gotta go work on WW Dreamtale.

[mrevaunit42]

UnderStar part 1

Hey everyone Mr.E here with another of my older stories. Last week i was working on Starco week 3 but yesterday i came down with a bit of a stomach bug. it’s passed but i decided as i take the day off, Why not post one of my favorite stories I wrote? My Star crossover with undertale. I really try to catch the feel of the video game so i hope you enjoy it. Honestly this is as fourth wall breaking, meta humor as the game itself and there are minor spoilers for the beginning. To really help you readers get into the mood, I am leaving it unaltered from the fanfiction format i used. this was a birthday present for my friend @hains-mae who actually did some great artwork for the story that i recommend you check out. that’s it for me, have an amazing week and i’ll talk to you soon

Howdy friends, Flowey here! I am so sad tell you that the author Mr.E has been killed in a tragic accident involving a comically oversized X and a boulder. With his dying, pathetic last breath, he asked me to take over his duties and keep writing Starco stories for you wonderful, amazing readers and I humbly accepted his last request because...hey, wait a minute!

Hi! Mr. E here. Despite the fact that SOMEONE tried to kill me, I'm still kicking. So that message I opened from Flowey? Well yeah worst mistake ever. I don't know what's going on but he's gotten into the story and he's trying to destroy everything! I'm trying to stop him but he's just so wiggly and annoying! Just stay here, don't read further on okay? I'll come back when I finally gotten rid of the pest. Just stay here!

…

…

…

You know you want to read on. You know you're curious. Go on, read. It'll be a fun experience. I PROMISE.

Marco felt like he just fell from a fifty foot drop, his mouth dry with the strange, metallic taste. His body felt sore, his bones ached and the normally cushy, foamy bed he came to expect felt rigid, tough yet a little puffy like he was laying on a stone floor ontop of a pile of flowers or something.

Marco groaned weakly, trying to piece together what happened. One minute he and Star were leaping through the dimensional portal like they had a million times before, happily discussing every day life topics like where to go next, if they had left the stove on, how Star could not bring home the flesh eating werewolf no matter how cute it looked with a bow to now feeling like he'd been hit by one of Star's narwhals.

The blinding sun above wasn't helping either. Marco instinctively covered his face with his free hand, trying his hardest to will himself to move but he just wasn't feeling it. Whatever happened drained a lot out of him. He couldn't remember a time he felt so tired.

Well laying down wasn't going to help any and he needed to figure out what went wrong.

Using every ounce of self control he possessed, Marco removed his hand away from his face, allowing the sunlight to bask him in a warm, bright glow.

It was strange sensation, he thought to himself, when sunlight and the air vastly contrasted from one another.

The air was cold and damp, chilly and frozen with the strange  taste of moisture within, almost like it was coming from somewhere deep in the ground, so far below that no source of light could reach it.

Marco made it to his side, groaning with effort as his hands felt something soft underneath his touch. Whatever he was felt smooth puffed like some sort of plant or foliage.

Marco opened his eyes slowly, his vision focusing in and out as it was assaulted with a sea of yellow.

“Wha?” Marco gently held the object in his hand.

It was a large, wild bunch of sunflowers nestled cozily under his body.

Marco glanced around the room curiously, the darkness of his surrounding making him feel uneasy.

He was in a circular cavern: thick smooth stone walls covered every inch as the sun poured in from a hole in the ceiling. It was so high that Marco couldn't see an edge or how far away the entrance was from him

Marco glanced around only to spot Star across from him, her body turned his way but not paying attention to him at all. She was awake and on all fours, staring at something with keen interest, her sky blue eyes wide with wonder.

“Star?” Marco asked groggily, wondering why the magical princess hadn't tried to wake him.

“Shh” Was Star's response, soft and gentle as her face did not even move an inch.

Marco frowned, annoyance filling his features as he followed her gaze to see what was so interesting.

“Oh....” Marco whispered, curiously watching the unconscious child in between the two.

The child was sprawled out on the bed of foliage like they were napping on the surprisingly comfy flowers, their eyes closed as their body rose and fell letting both Star and Marco know that they were still breathing.

The child's eyes were closed, looking more like two lines than anything else but that could be to due to the near darkness of the cave. The child had medium length straight brown hair with short bangs. They wore a magenta and blue striped shirt with blue pants and some brown shoes. But any other description of the child was....very difficult to give.

Marco couldn't tell if the child was a boy or girl. Marco was certain the child was a boy but every so often the child would shift just ever so slightly and the image of the girl replaced the boy.

And it wasn't just the child's gender that was impossible to deduce, it was everything about them. Their age could've ranged anywhere from 8 to 12, their skin color shifted with every subtle, sleeping movement they did.

The expression of the child made everything worse. Even fast asleep their expression was blank, as smooth and emotionless as the walls of the room were. Everything about this child was a mystery and it was maddening to decipher.

“Aww” Star finally spoke up, her voice still low as not to disturb the sleeping child “She's soooo cute!”

“Umm Star” Marco replied nervously, hoping he did not some how offend Star with his observation “I think she is a boy.”

“No, she's a girl. See the hair?”

“But boys have hair styles like that too”

“And her adorable shirt?”

“I wore that type of shirt growing up.”

“Umm, those shoes are so not guy shoes.”

“Star, they're just plain brown shoes. Lots of people wear brown shoes.”

“But her face. It's so angelic! So calm so....”

Star pouted, biting her lip while she tried to figure out the puzzle of the child's gender.

Marco stared too, hoping that with 2 people on the case, the mystery would be solved sooner than later.

“Well I guess in this angle she does...” Marco started as Star muttered at the same time “He does look a little...”

The two best friends shared a confused look with one another

“Should we just...?” Marco began uneasily.

“Yeah it's not important” Star agreed, standing to her full height with Marco following suit.

“What is important” Star continued, putting her hands on her hips confidently while staring around the cavernous room “Is how do we get...umm her out of here”

“The real question” Marco added, putting on his hand gingerly on the cool, slick surface of the walls “Is where are we.”

“Psst” Star scoffed, closing her eyes and waving off Marco's statement question “Easy, we're out of here!”

Star held up the dimensional scissors only to pale at the sight of the bent edges of the blades, their awkward angles filling the princess with dread.

“Oh no” Star muttered, twisting her body to prevent Marco from seeing the damaged magical item and freak out like he always did.

“Star?” Marco asked quizzically, trying to peer around her to see what she was hiding.

“Soooo.” Star stalled, slowly turning and holding the broken scissors in her palms “The scissors are broken....”

Marco didn't say anything, his face slipping into a mask of disbelief

“We're trapped here!” Marco shouted, forgetting all about the sleeping child for a moment.

The two flinched at the sound of Marco's voice bouncing off the walls of the cave, growing fainter and fainter the further it traveled.

“Marco” Star harshly scolded with a whisper “He's sleeping!”

Marco eyed the child carefully “I don't think she is getting up anytime soon. Besides, what happened? Why are we even here Star?”

“Why do you make it sound like I brought us here?” Star shot back, a defensive edge to her voice.

“Because you had the scissors!” Marco argued “You're the one that knows how to use them.”

“But I didn't bring us here! Or at least I didn't mean too” Star concluded, nervously chewing on her wand while she tried to determine if this whole side trip was truly her fault. All she wanted to do was take Marco on a secret trip, not the spooky cave of cave things.

“If you didn't bring us here, how did we end up here?”

“Hmm....I opened the portal, we jumped through, you said you forgot something and poof we're here!” Star mindlessly nibbled on her wand, her brain working as fast as it could to give Marco an answer “Maybe there was a large surge of magic that attracted the scissors to this place! I mean I heard it happens but such a force would have to be a huuuuuuge surge of magic. Like rewinding and alternating the very flow of time itself and there's nothing in the known universe that could do that.”

“So...” Marco asked, making his way over to Star's side “What do we do now?”

“Easy, we find someone to fix the scissors!” Star cheered excitedly

“And is there someone who can fix the scissors?” Marco questioned.

“No idea” Star admitted “but we won't find out if we simply stay here all day. Come on Marco”

Star turned on her heels, eyes sparkling at the entrance away further into the cave,

A rectangular doorway with elegant and detailed columns on either side, the archway held some sort of family seal in the middle, some sort of creature in flight but Star had never seen such a family crest before.  

“Star, what about her?”

Star stopped walking, turning to face both Marco and the sleeping child.

“...Maybe it's safer for him if we leave her here...him...her.....” Star's head dully ached, the gender of the child causing her great confusion.

Marco nodded in agreement “We don't know what we will face. It'll be safer this way. We can't protect her...er him....if we're distracted.”

“Bye sleeping gender ambiguous child!” Star happily waved goodbye before the two made their way through the entrance way and deeper into the cavern.

“Ugh, why is it so dark in here?” Star whined, the luminous pink glow from her wand the only thing allowing either of them to see through the dark, shadowy tunnels of the cavern.

“Because it's a cave Star. Caves tend to be underground and dark, you know lack of sun and stuff like that”

“Why did the scissors bring us to this gloomy, dark place!” Star complained, pouting cutely “Who would be willing to live here?”

“I would!”

Star and Marco shared a concern look as they came into another circular room, another ray of sun shining down on a small patch of grass and on that small patch was a yellow sunflower but unlike the ones from before, this one was different.

It had black eyes and thin line of a smile, like an old cartoon character. It moved like it was alive, its little petals waving this way and that excitedly as if it had never seen a person before.

“.....umm....hi” Marco waved towards the eager and seemingly alive sunflower, unsure how to proceed with this whole talking to plant life plan.

“Howdy!” The flower responded, moving a petal like it was waving to them “My name is Flowey. Flowey the Flower!”

Marco opened his mouth to question how a flower could get sentience, let alone talk, when Star violently shoved him to the floor, rushing over and crouching over the cute little sunflower.

“Aww....you are so cute!” Star cooed, smiling brightly at Flowey.

“Yeah...” Marco chimed in, deadpanned and obviously irritated at Star's antics “Cute.”

Marco made his way over to Flowey and Star. Something about the little tiny flower setting him on edge.

“Wow you sure are pretty!” Flowey beamed joyfully at Star.

“Aww thank you! Such a sweet little flower.”

“You two must be new to the Underground, ain'tcha?” Flowey asked his rhetorical question, looking up and down Marco and Star's like he was searching for something.

“Is that what this place is called little flower?” Star asked, leaning over Flowey, giving him her undivided attention.

“Yep! Golly, you two must be so confused what's going on”

“A little” Marco agreed

“Well someone ought to teach you how things work around here! And I guess that's going to be little old me” Flowey told the pair with a playful wink.

“Thanks Flowey!” Star let out a happy cheer “That's so nice of you!”

“Are you two ready?” Flowey asked with a mischievous smile.

Marco felt chills run down his spine at the sight of the innocent grin.

“Wait...” Marco stepped forward to stop Flowey from going on but it was too late as Flowey let out an excited “HERE WE GO!”

Marco and Star felt odd as the world flickered between color and black/white before the staying in a colorless filter

“What is going on?” Marco questioned, his train of thought grinding to a halt when a faint, mild red glimmer began radiating from his chest.

Marco glanced down to see a small, bright red heart in the center of his chest, superimposed on top of his hoodie like a pasted on logo.

Marco turned to see Star's lips shaped like an O, her eyes lost in a child-like wonder as her pink hearts that rested upon her cheek became blue, her fingers carefully pinching and touching the now different colored hearts.

“See that heart? Er hearts?” Flowey explained, a strange gleam in his eye s “That's your SOUL, the very culmination of your entire being, entire existence!”

“Whoa!” Star pinched harder, trying to see if there was some way to peel off the blueness of her hearts and put it a frame or photo album.

“Your SOULs start off weak but you can make them stronger with LOVE!” “LOVE!” Star squealed, love was her favorite thing in the entire world!

“Yep! LOVE! And we share LOVE through these!”

Marco wearily stared at the small, seed-like pellet that appeared over Flowey's head.

“And those are....what exactly?” Marco questioned, body tense just in case.

“Friendliness pellets of course!”

“YAY! Friendliness pellets” Star clapped with childish glee “I want some love!”

“Okay, make sure collect the pellets to grow your LOVE!”

Star closed her eyes, trusting Flowey completely as she spread her arms open wide, cheerfully singing her favorite La la la la song as the pellet slowly inched its way over to the waiting princess.

Marco narrowed his eyes, the eagerness on Flowey's face was strange, off putting even.

“Star” Marco gently pushed his best friend out of the way of the approaching pellet, ignoring her frustrated and annoyed cries “I think maybe we should....”

The pellet made contact with Marco's body, disappearing into thin air. It was a light tap, barely a touch. So why did it feel like Marco's shoulder was being ripped off, why did his mind become hazy, any attempt to remember any small detail nearly impossible?

“Marco, MARCO WAKE UP!”

Marco's eyes shot open, his breathing heavy as he felt warm, almost like he was on fire. When did he close his eyes?

Marco stared upwards into Star's blue eyes. Her long blonde hair tumbling down the side of her face, a frightened and worried look filling out every corner of her body.

Marco opened his mouth to respond to Star's calls only to realize they weren't alone.

Next to Star was a humanoid female goat. She was a little taller and a little wider than the two young teens though that easily could've been due to how massive her blue robe with white sleeves seemed to be. She had two small horns coming out of the top of her skull, her droopy ears fluffy and cute. Her hands and feet were paws as well and she stared at him with a motherly glance.

“My child” she spoke slowly, making sure Marco was coherent enough to properly understand “Are you alright? That horrible creature did not harm you, did he?”

Marco shook his head, trying to ignore the ache in his shoulder. He didn't want to worry Star or goat mom too much.

Star offered her hand, letting out a sigh of relief when Marco gripped it firmly and allowed Star to help him to his feet.

“Where's Flowey?” Marco asked, eyes blazing with righteous fury at having been tricked.

“He just left, I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it. Maybe it was just an accident.”

Marco faced Star, unable to believe she was defending the psychotic flower after he tried to hurt her!

“Children” Goat mom interrupted, forcing the passive argument to be shelved for the moment.

Star and Marco gave the kindly goat their full attention, hoping that she could help them get out of this place or perhaps fix the dimensional scissors.

“I am Toriel” Goat mom explained “I am keeper of this ruins. I search them every day to see if any humans have fallen down here though I must admit I am surprised that I found two living beings instead of one. Normally you tend to travel solo up the mountain.”

“Actually” Star cut in “I'm Mewnian, not actually human.”

“I know, I can sense your SOUL. It is very similar to my own.”

Star was surprised at this information “What but...aren't you a...?”

“A monster, yes” Toriel filled in, nodding to her politely.

Star stayed quiet at this revelation forcing Marco to take up the conversation.

“We actually didn't fall down from the mountain.”

Toriel stared at them, confused and lost at what Marco was saying.

“I don't understand my child...”

Marco held out the bent scissors “It's a magical item that lets us travel between dimensions. Somehow we got trapped here and they broke.”

“I see” Toriel simply replied “I am not familiar with this magic and I have never seen anything such as this before. I am afraid I cannot help you”

Marco couldn't stop the disappointment from showing, sliding the broken object into his pockets

“Is there any way out of here? Of the Underground I mean?”

Toriel said nothing, her sudden silence causing Marco to anxiously await her response.

“Come with me” Toriel told the pair quickly “I know a place you shall be safe but we will have to pass through the ruins to do so.”

And without warning, Toriel left, her figure disappearing beyond the archway across the other side of the room.

Marco took a step forward only to feel Star grip his hand tightly, holding him in place to gather his attention.

“Star?” Marco questioned, wondering what was Star up to.

“Marco, you're not seriously going to follow her further into the ruins?” Star's tone made Marco feel stupid like she was questioning his intelligence or something.

“Of course I am! We don't have any choice, besides she seems nice enough.”

“She's a monster!” Star shouted, trying to make Marco realize what a terrible mistake this was “And she's hiding something! Did you hear how she hesitated? She knows there's a way out but she doesn't want to tell us!”

“Look Star, trap or not, we're not going anywhere on our own.” Marco explained, hoping Star could see his reasoning “We need to play along for now and we'll figure it out as we go.”

“Oooooor we can narwhal blast her!” Star suggested helpfully.

“We're not narwhal blasting Goat mom! I mean...” Marco shook his head “Toriel.”

Star cutely giggled at Marco's slip up “Hee Goat mom”

Star let out a defeated sigh, motioning for Marco go first “Your plan safe kid, you first.”

“I was going to be a gentleman but I think for the moment I'll stow the chivalry”

Marco and Star walked side by side into the darkness of the ruins, Star quickly breaking the silence of the moment “You know Marco, the code of chivalry only has one part of it that says respect women. The rest is protocols for medieval combat.”

“Whoa” The teens said as one, the elegance of the ruins overtaking both of them. The outside of the ruins may have been a simple cave but within, there with well crafted brick walls of a purplish tint. It was small but far more inviting than the outside cavern.

“Welcome to your new home, innocent children” Toriel bowed gratefully as Star and Marco made their way deeper into the room “Let me educate you in the operations of the ruins. Beyond are many puzzles designed slow or halt your progress but you needn't worry, I have already solved most of them. Just follow my instructions and all shall be well.”

“Toriel, I'm a magical princess from another dimension and Marco is a karate master of whirling death! I'm sure we can handle anything in the ruins” Star boasted, leaning against Marco and giving him a playful wink.

“Oh dear” Toriel sounded deeply ashamed “I am sorry your highness, I did not realize I was speaking to a fellow royal. Please forgive my rudeness”

Toriel bowed respectfully towards Star causing the young princess to shift guilty, her earlier accusations about Toriel now seeming petty and unfounded.

“It's okay Toriel...wait you're a queen?”

“No....not anymore” Toriel responded cryptically, turning and venturing further into th ruins without another word, Marco and Star following in her wake.

“Seriously?” Star scoffed, feeling insulted at having been treated like a small child. Not only were the puzzles absurdly easy to solve, Toriel was true to her word: She had indeed solved all them beforehand. From the yellow signs telling Marco and Star which lever to pull to Toriel guiding the two, by hand mind you, through retractable spiky floors, Marco and Star had barely lifted a finger to bypass the trials of the ruins. Even now Star could see Toriel hiding behind a pillar, having told them to simply walk to the end the hall by themselves as some sort of final test

Overly protective goat mom was overly protective.

“At least she's not trying to kill us” Marco told Star, hoping to curve Star's annoyance towards their benevolent, if overly cautious, guide.

“Marco, she wanted me to talk to a practice dummy.”

“Well....”

“You know what practice dummies are for right? For fighting!”

“Umm....” Marco started but there was no fighting Star's argument.

“I feel like a child. No, I feel like like a baby because as a child I was already stealing treasure from ogres and learning to fight with a sword.”

“Look she's just showing how much she cares, that's all”

“She's suffocating that's what” Star murmured low as the duo passed the pillar that was Toriel's spot, unsurprised when the female goat came out, robes sweeping, her hands held together as always.

“Greetings my children, do not worry, I did not actually leave you” Toriel said a smile.

“You don't say....” was Star's deadpanned response.

“I do say!” Toriel answered cheerfully “I was merely behind this pillar, testing your independence. Thank you for trusting me for you see I need take care of some things and you two must stay alone for a while.”

“Really?” Star's voice filled with an unsubtle level of eager craftiness. Marco face palmed himself.

“Yes, you two must remain here” Toriel went on, not catching wind of Star's intent “It is far too dangerous ahead and I have not yet written out the answers for the puzzles.”

“Oh, I see” Marco couldn't tell what he couldn't believe more: Star's overly agreeable tone or the fact Toriel just was not catching on to any of it.

“I have an idea! I shall....oh dear” Toriel's face morphed from joy to despair “I was going to give you this device. You probably haven't heard of it. It is called a cell phone. I was to give it to you so I may keep in touch with you both but alas I only have one and it is not right to give it to one and not have another prepared for the other. Dear how could I have been so thoughtless?”

“It's okay!” Star chimed in, reaching into Marco's pocket and fishing out his cell phone to see “Marco has a cell phone! You can use your phone to call him!”

Toriel looked completely awestruck “Oh my, you have a cell phone? Where ever did you get it?”

“Umm.....Verzion.” Marco answered sheepishly

“Hmm....I must speak to this merchant Verzion. Perhaps he could sell me more cell phones in case I need to hand them out. Some monsters do not have any and I feel terribly guilty for it.”

Marco chuckled nervously “Good luck with that, Verzion is only in the United States.”

“Oh....” Toriel replied, pouting a little bit “Well I suppose this will have to do. Please, Marco was it? May I have your number so that I may check up on you?”

Marco gave Toriel his number, suppressing his stranger danger urges despite the fact Toriel has been very trustworthy but sometimes old habits die hard.

“Thank you Marco” Toriel beamed happily at the two of them, the goat's face reminding Marco of his own mother for a moment “I shall contact you when I am done with my errands. So for now, do not move from this spot.”

“Sure mom...” Marco replied automatically before flinching “I mean goat mom! I mean Toriel!”

Toriel stared back at Star and Marco, face set in stone before a small smile played on her face, the best friends feeling a little guilty as Toriel was swallowed by the darkness of the ruins.

“Man, she really knows how to make you feel bad. She's so sweet. Like a puppy! Or cotton candy...” Star paused for a moment before snapping her fingers “or a cotton Candy puppy! Nom noms!”

“ugh, I know right?” Marco agreed “man she has a way of making you feel bad for not doing what she says. Come on we need to...”

Marco and Star jumped out of their skins as Marco's Space Unicorn ringtone filled the silent room.

Marco checked the caller I.D only have a row of question marks fill the screen.

“Hello?” Marco answered, putting on the speaker so Star could hear as well.

“Hello, this is Toriel, you have not left the room have you?” she asked curiously

“Nope!” Marco replied “Still here, where you left us 10 seconds ago”

“Good, there some puzzles ahead I have not yet explained. It would be dangerous for both of you my children.”

“Right Toriel.”

“on an unrelated note, which do you prefer? Cinnamon or butterscotch?”

“Cinnamon!” Star answered

“Butterscotch!” Was Marco's reply.

The two stared at each other, unsure what to say next.

“Would either of you mind” Toriel began slowly “If I put the two together? I know your have your favorites but I suppose it would be best to compromise in this situation”

“I'm okay with if Star is”

“That sounds yummy!'

“Thank you so much for your patience, please remain where you are. I shall be there shortly to pick you up”

Star and Marco shared a conspiratorial look with one another, knowing while goat mom meant well, they weren't defenseless children. They needed to get out of the Underground and return home as soon as possible.

“You ready to break some rules safe kid?” Star teased, nudging Marco's side playfully while winking his way.

“You are such a bad influence on me.”

“I think you  mean fun...luence?”

Marco let out a joyful laugh “Come on Star, let's go. How bad could these ruins be anyway?”

Marco stayed as far away from Star as he could, eying both the magical princess and the doughnut she was scarfing down with equal parts disgust and disbelief.

“Amre Yspu surm; do Whna any Mmaco?” Star offered her half eaten doughnut to the increasingly uncomfortable Marco.

Marco could feel his stomach churn unhappily at the sight of the pastry, his face becoming pale as his body threaten to throw out what he had for breakfast.

“Ugh, Star you bought that at a spider bake sale!”

Star shrugged, not seeing what was wrong with the picture “So what Marco? It's pretty good.”

“Star, it was brought down from a web....by spiders!”

“Those spiders really know how to bake!”

Marco gulped, trying to keep the contents of his stomach down, Star taking a huge bite and finishing the rest of the spidery treat in one go.

“Ah!” Star let out a satisfied sigh, patting her belly contently “So good.”

“So gross” Marco countered, trying to find away to active the repression reflex of his brain.

“This place is pretty cool!” Star went on, ignoring Marco's green, vomit colored cheeks “Those puzzles were pretty fun.”

Marco stared her, annoyed “We fell down a hole. Twice. And that fourth rock gave so much trouble.”

“Yep!” Star continued, still completely oblivious to Marco “Fuuuuuun!

“Well at least that ghost was cool”

“And its little top hat? So cute!”

“The Underground isn't such a bad place huh?” Marco said casually

“Yeah” Star agreed, her tone distant and sad “But we can't stay here....”

Marco nodded “We have to get back home.”

Marco and Star made their way through the ruins, taking the only path they had not yet dared tread.

In the next room, directly in the center was a darken, silhouette of a tree, dead, branches twisted upwards as if searching for the sun.

“You think anyone could leave the Underground?” Marco asked quizzically, the dead tree making him feel uneasy “I mean who would willingly live here? It's so dark...cold....”

Star shrugged, trying to remain calm though the idea of these monsters trapped here began tugging at her heart strings “I don't know...but we're not going to find out just standing here.....”

Before either of them could react, Marco's ringtone went off once more, breaking the silence and the thoughts of the teenagers.

“OH!” A familiar called from beyond the dead tree “How did you get here my children? You are not hurt, are you?”

Star and Marco quickly found themselves wrapped in a furry embrace, Toriel gripping and holding onto them like she would never see them again.

She let them go after a moment, staring dolefully towards the best friends, almost as if she was asking for forgiveness

“I should have not left you alone so long” Toriel frowned, clearly ashamed at her actions “It was irresponsible of me to have done so, even if I wanted to get your surprise ready. I am sorry children, it will not happen again.”

“It's okay Toriel” Star tried to explain, the guilt in the goat mom's eyes too much for her to bear “We're okay! Me and Marco managed to avoid any monsters and the puzzles were really simple! We...”

“Well” Toriel turned away from Marco and Star “I cannot hide it any longer. Come children.”

and once more Toriel vanished but not into a cave like the other times but rather into a cute, cozy little home just beyond the dead tree.

“Do you like your new home children?” Toriel asked excitedly, motioning to her house humbly “I am sorry for the mess. I did not realize I would be having company over. You may find some things scatter about. Please simply put them in your pockets until you find a place to store them.”

The house was much bigger on the inside than it was on the outside: In front was a stair cause that descended further into the Earth. To the hall on the right were 3 sets of doors, hastily written signs held by their doorknobs. To the left was a large living with a chair resting next to a warm fire and beyond that seemed to be a kitchen given how some thin, black smoke was pouring from it.

“Surprise! Welcome to your new home!” Toriel told Marco and Star with a bright smile, holding out a delicious looking pie in front of them, the scent of butterscotch and cinnamon wafting through the little home and causing Marco's stomach to grumble with impatience.

“Thank you Toriel! This is amazing!” Marco politely told their host, eagerly reaching for a slice of pie and hungrily consuming within seconds.

Star took the pie offered to her but she made no motion to eat it, Toriel's words not setting well with the magical princess.

“Toriel....what do you mean our new home?”

Toriel peered at Star like she was confused, that Star's question made no sense or at least had an obvious answer.

“Well my child, I simply mean this is your new home. Where you will live from now on....with me.”

“What?” Marco managed to get out before a piece of the pastry went down the wrong pipe, choking him and causing him to wildly gasp for air.

“Toriel, you can't keep us prisoner here” Star threatened, slowly reaching for her wand in case goat mom tried something.

“Prisoner?” Toriel looked appalled, like the mere idea of keeping the teens trapped here was sickening to her “You are not my prisoners, you are my guests.”

“Then help us leave the Underground!” Star shot back, hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of her wand.

“You cannot leave child” Toriel told her, worry and concern in her eyes.

“W-wh...AH! Why not?” Marco coughed out.

“Beyond the ruins is the rest of the Underground” Toriel explained, her voice solemn and stricken with grief and sorrow “Here you are safe. You may live your lives in peace. But if you go beyond.....they....Asgore.....will kill you.”

Toriel closed her eyes as if the mere memory of this Asgore brought her great distress.

“Why?! We haven't done anything to those meanie pants!” Star shouted, her wand fully visibly to all parties involved.

“You are human Marco, and you Star are human enough. They are still bitter, still angry at the loss we have suffered. They would kill you on the spot simply to satiate their anger, their rage, their vengeance.”

“But there must be a way out of the Underground! Please Toriel, tell us”

Toriel said nothing, simply frowning and releasing a defeated sigh, one that made it seem like this wasn't the first time she had this conversation.

“I am tired children. I apologize. I will rest. We....we will discuss this tomorrow. I am afraid you two will have to share a room for the time being. As I said.....not many humans fall into the Underground and I have never had two beings at the same time.”  

and like that, Toriel left, passing Marco and Star without another word, retreating into her room with hardly a sound.

Marco and Star made it to their room, a nice well kept room with a bed large enough to fit the two of them comfortably.

Marco fell on the bed at once, letting his tired body finally relax since the first time this adventure began.

Star sat on the edge of the bed but did not make any attempt to lay down next to Marco.

“Star? Star what's wrong?” Marco asked, the fact Star was so silent bothering the Latino greatly.

“We need to go home Marco” Star told him bluntly “We can't pretend house and stay here until Toriel decides to tell us how to get out of the Ruins.”

“Star” Marco frowned, trying to figure out the best way to explain this to his hotheaded, reckless best friend “We have no idea where we are, we have no idea what's going on and we have no idea what's beyond the Ruins. What if it is as dangerous as Toriel says?”

“Psst” Star scoffed, jumping to her feet aggressively “That doesn't matter. We can handle anything and if any monsters try to stop us, we'll kick their butts!”

Star made silly, goofy karate gestures and noises in hopes to pacify Marco, to get him to go along with the plan but to her dismay, Marco simply started at her, uncertainty in his eyes.

“Star, these monsters aren't bad. We can't simply fight our way out of every situation we come across.”

“Sure we can! We always have before!”

“But that was against Ludo, Toffee. Toriel is nice if a little over protective.”

Star looked hurt, tears building in her eyes, lower lip trembling

“Are you saying you trust her more than me?? Your bestie?”

“Star...that's not it at all.” Marco answered, unable to look upon the sad Star face he accidentally caused “I'm just saying she might know a safer way home, out of the Underground without running into Asgore. If we show her how responsible we are, how much we can take care of ourselves, I'm sure she'll tell us how.”

Star laid down, turning her back towards Marco, not saying a single word

“Star?” Marco asked, outstretching his hand to grab her shoulder.

“We'll talk about it later Marco” Star spat, her tone hurt and sharp “I'm going to bed.”

“Star...”

“Good night Marco.”

The finality of her tone was enough to stop Marco. He pulled his hand back and turned away from his best friend, unable to holding the cold, silent treatment she was giving him.

They had a long day, they were just both too tired and cranky. It be better in the morning. It be better then....

Marco let out a sleepy, content yawn, a good night's rest. He stretched his weary body, his eyes blinking once...twice...three times trying to rid the sleep out of them.

“Good morning Star” Marco called sleepily, turning fully expecting to see the long mane of Star's golden hair only to be met with empty space.

“Star?” Marco tried to keep the rising panic from spilling into his voice “Star!”

Toriel appeared in the doorway, her face sad and lost.

“I am sorry Marco, your friend has left....”

“Left?” Marco repeated, his mouth tasting like ash and dust “Left where?”

“Beyond the ruins, to the Underground.”

Marco rose to his feet at once only to be stopped by Toriel's hand

“You will not follow her. I cannot allow both of my children to be in danger.”

“Star's my best friend!” Marco shouted “I can't stay here knowing she's out there in danger!”

“Do not argue child” Toriel said firmly “I will destroy the exit from the Ruins....no one will be heading to the Underground any more...”

“You can't!” Marco yelled “I need to go! I NEED TO FIND STAR!”

Toriel said nothing, only turning her back towards Marco making him feel sick. That was the last time he saw Star, her back turned to her best friend.....

“Do not fight me child. Stay here. Stay safe....I will return shortly and we shall go over the curriculum for your education.”

Toriel left, her soft footsteps echoing dully through the hall.

Marco raced after her but goat mom was already descending the stairs, moving far faster than he had anticipated.

Marco gave chase, skipping as many steps as he could, the staircase leading deep and deeper into the cold, harsh Earth, the air becoming icy and chilling him despite his warm hoodie.

Marco found himself in a long, seemingly endless corridor. Silence was his only companion as he rushed to catch up to Toriel, the fear of Star's safety gnawing at him in waves. Why did he fight with her? Why didn't he hold onto her last night, tried harder to make her understand! Now she was gone and Marco had no one to blame but himself.  

He burst into the room, Toriel standing stoically in front of two purple, massive doors, her symbol on her robes plastered in the center where the two doors met.

“They come...” Toriel spoke the moment he entered the room “They leave....they die....”

Marco took another step forward, hoping Toriel would see reason.

“....always they die.....”

Marco tried to stop the beating of his heart, each passing moment brought pain and shame coursing through his vein. Toriel was so happy when Marco and Star arrived....overjoyed there were two more people to share her home with her...

But now her voice was cold, distant like Star's had been.

Marco just ruined everything didn't he?

Toriel faced Marco, her long flowing robes sweeping through the air gracefully.

Her emotionless eyes reflecting Marco's sinful image back towards him “there is only one solution for this....”

Toriel lifted a hand to the sky, closing her eyes as a fireball flickered into existence above her. And another. And another and another until dozens of fireballs hung in the air, just waiting, the cackling of the flames the only sound heard in the room.

“You want to leave so badly?” Toriel opened her eyes once more “Prove yourself”

The fireballs inched forward, slowly closing in on Marco from every angle.

“Prove to me you are strong enough to survive” Toriel's hand shot forward and with it, so did all the fireballs, hurtling themselves straight for Marco.

Star felt guilty, hurt that she left Marco behind but given how much he was disagreeing with her the night before, she couldn't risk him sabotaging her plan. He could stay here and play the waiting game all he wanted but Star wanted to go home. She wouldn't be gone long, she'd come back for Marco as soon as possible.

Star let out a dejected sigh, trying to figure out where to go. Everywhere was dark and she could barely make out any features of anything.

“Golly, is that you Star?”

Star glanced around, wondering who had just said her name.

“It's me! Over here Star!”

Star turned and found herself staring at a spotlight of sun, Flowey the flower eagerly waving from within, his cheerful smile causing Star to return it with one of her own.

“Flowey? Is that you?”

Flowey nodded “Gosh Star, are you okay?”

Star fell her knees and looked at the talking flower at his eyes level.

“No...I'm not. Where did you go Flowey? And why did you hurt Marco?”

Flowey looked shocked, the news that he hurt Marco rocking the tiny flower to his core.

“Gee Star, I'm sorry. I had to go take care of some business but I didn't mean to hurt Marco though it was his fault you know.”

“What, how?”

“Well...” Flowey said, his tone similar to a child attempting to seek forgiveness from a parent “I knew you and Marco were different beings so I adjusted my friendliness pellets accordingly! That pellet was for you and only you and would've helped your LOVE grow! But silly Marco got in the way. That's why it hurt him. It wasn't created for his human body.”

“oooooh.” Star nodded, still not sure what Flowey was talking about but finding his sincerity comforting “I knew it must've been an accident!”

“Marco's okay right?”

“Marco's fine Flowey” Star gently told the flower, lightly patting his head “Marco's fine....”

“Are you okay Star? You seem down.”

“Marco and I got into a fight about how to get out of the Underground. He wanted to wait for Toriel to show us a safer way.”

Flowey's eyes blackened, looking sinister for a moment upon hearing Toriel's name but quickly switched to his cartoonish features before Star could notice.

“and I don't think she ever would....”

“Golly Star, that's horrible. But lucky for you ran into me! I know a way to get out of the Underground!”

“You do?!” Star cheered, taking Flowey into her palms and rising to her feet “Thank you so much Flowey! OH! I need to go get Marco!”

“Wait Star!” Flowey stopped her before she went racing back to Toriel's house “We don't have much time! The exit will be closing soon and if we go back to the ruins, we'll never make it back in time....”

“Marco....” Star whispered softly. She might've said it in anger before but she could never willingly leave Marco behind. They were besties.

“Don't worry Star! When you leave, I can cast a spell on you so when you return, you'll come back to the exact spot you left! That way you can come and get Marco back once you fix your scissor thing!”

“Thanks Flowey” Star gave the flower an appreciative grin “You're the best. Which way do we go?”

“That way Star, through the Snowdin forest. I'll guide you the rest of the way.”

Star turned, the large towering dead trees doing nothing to deter the princess, her boots crunching against the snow covered floor as she headed deeper into the lifeless woods.

“Hey Flowey, when the world turned black and white, why did my hearts turn blue? And why did Marco have a red one?”

“Oh that's simple Star! Non-Monster SOULs have different colors based on your personality. Blue is associated with twirling, hopping, jumping and dancing!”

“Dancing? I'm a great dancer!”

“I'm sure you are Star....I'm sure you are.....”

Please take 15 to 30 minutes breaks for every hour you read a video game based alternate universe crossover story. Seriously though this is a long story. Take a break, get some food, some water. Go ahead, it's not going anywhere.