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scuttling · 3 years

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Lean on Me

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Gender Neutral Reader Word Count: 4,717 Tags: SFW, Fluff, 5+1 Trope, Obliviousness, Mutual pining, Aaron Hotchner deserves good things, Canon typical injury Summary: Five times you want to kiss the frown off of your boss's face, and one time you actually do it. *Requested by Anon. Link to AO3 or read below! “It doesn’t make sense.”

You stick a tack in a photo of a murdered woman—unfortunately one of many you’ve stuck to this board—and turn to face Hotch, who is looking over your handiwork with a quizzical expression.

“What doesn’t?” He takes a few steps closer, crosses his arms in front of him.

“Why would the unsub leave his comfort zone? The first six abductions occurred within five miles of the college, so why did the seventh and eighth happen almost twelve miles away?” He reaches for the board, traces his finger along the circle Reid had colored in on the map. “We profiled that he’s disorganized and far from confident, so why would he do that?”

He looks over at you, frowns, and not for the first time your gaze is drawn to the little crease between his eyebrows that always forms when he is puzzled, worried, confused, stressed, or otherwise unhappy. In short, it’s there kind of all of the time.

For the first time, though, you think of how easy it would be to lean over, press your lips there, smooth it out, and maybe even get him to smile for a change. He has a great smile, when he lets people see it.

You shake the daydream, rewind back to the question he asked, and wrinkle your nose in thought.

“Maybe his circumstances changed? It's summer now, and there are still classes, but students aren’t living in the dorms. Maybe he moved back home or got an apartment off campus that’s within that area—or a job.” He sighs, runs a hand over the back of his head, nods.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. That’s good. I’ll mention it to the others.” He pulls out his phone, and you grab another photo, another thumbtack, but something stops you and you lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“You don’t have to think of everything, you know. That’s why you have us.” He exhales, his shoulders losing a little of their tension, and that forehead wrinkle gets a little less deep.

“Sometimes I forget that not everything needs to be done the hard way. Or by me.”

“What? You, Aaron Hotchner, doing things the hard way?” you tease, and you are gifted a glimpse of his rare, unfiltered smile.

“Okay, enough pointing out my flaws,” he says with a raised eyebrow, though he’s still smiling, and as he looks down to type out a text, you remember to pull back your hand.

“I would never.” He looks up from his phone at that—maybe at the conviction in your voice, which you hadn’t exactly intended—and his expression softens further.

“I know you wouldn’t.” You hold eye contact for a moment, and then turn to finish preparing the board, pinning up another photo of another woman and reminding yourself that they need you to focus on the task at hand. Two weeks later, you knock on Hotch’s office door, a stack of completed consults in your hand. He looks up, that familiar notch in between his brows, a scowl on his face; when he sees that it’s you, he tones it down a little.

“Draw the short straw?” he asks, and you figure that’s because everyone knows he is in a bad mood and they’ve been avoiding this office all day. You shrug.

“It was rock, paper, scissors, but yes.” He huffs a short laugh, and you smile, step toward his desk. “Anything I can do to lighten the load?”

“Technically you’re adding to it,” he says with a glance at the files in your hand, and you set them on one of the chairs with a purposefully loud thump and then take the other seat.

“Technically. But technically, you only need to review my consults; I can review theirs. Right?” He mulls it over a moment, like the thought never crossed his mind—of course Aaron I have to do everything myself Hotchner would never suggest such a thing, even as the team sits in the bullpen with nothing to do, seeing who can throw M&Ms into Spencer’s mouth from the furthest distance.

“Technically,” he agrees, and you pluck a pen out of his pen cup and take the first file off the pile, open it in front of yourself, careful not to cut into the workspace he’s occupying. You both smile softly down at your work, and you actively do not think about that wrinkle between his eyebrows.

About an hour later, he reaches for his mug out of habit but finds it empty; you stand, take it in your hand, and he makes a noise of protest.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you say, and you walk toward the door. “I need some too. I’ll be right back.”

You pass through the bullpen—apparently the M&M contest led to a sugar crash, because Spencer is laying with his head on his desk—and grab your cup off your desk, take both to the break room to fill them.

Derek appears next to you as you’re stirring your sugar in.

“Coffee date with the boss?” he asks with a curious expression, and you shake your head.

“Of course not. I’m helping him with the overwhelming amount of paperwork on his desk so his mood improves, instead of just ignoring him.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and Derek scratches the back of his head.

“Never thought of that,” he admits, and you pat him on the arm and take your coffees back upstairs.

Hotch looks up at you as you set his mug down, says a soft thank you, and you grab the pile of files you brought up, separate them, and head back downstairs.

“You review mine,” you say to Derek, handing him a stack, “Emily take Spencer’s, Spencer take Derek’s, I’ll take Emily’s.” They look at you like they have no idea what to say, and you just smile, tap the top of Spencer’s head with a folder. “I’ll come back down and grab them in a little bit.”

“Yes, boss,” Emily says, and you grin on your way back upstairs. Hotch is standing when you arrive this time, looking out the window over the bullpen.

“What did you do?” he asks, turning to you, frowning again. You’re so close that kissing that wrinkle would be effortless. All you’d have to do is lean in.

You smile.

“I delegated, Hotch. You should try it some time.” You put your hands on his arms and guide him back to his desk. “Now what can I help you with?”

By the end of the day, his desk is clean and his bad mood is long gone. He closes the last of his files, sighs deeply, covers your hand with one of his, and says thank you.

The next morning when you come in, there is a steaming latte and a cookie on your desk, and you can’t stop smiling the rest of the day. Your next case is draining, children abducted and left for dead, and everyone is on edge, but no one more than Hotch. You’re fairly certain his face hasn’t relaxed since the initial briefing, and he’d be a prime candidate for the old ‘your face will get stuck like that’ joke, if anyone was up to joking.

The team catches the unsub, saves one child, but not until after three are dead; you take a late flight home because no one wants to stay another night in a town it feels like you’ve failed, and everyone curls up to get some rest except you and Hotch.

You try to read the book you brought along—a science fiction dystopian novel, something to get you out of your head and away from real life problems—but you’re a little distracted by Hotch’s sighing. It’s become an every-five-minutes thing, and while you’re definitely on board with sighing as a way to decompress, he’s not decompressing. He looks like he’s in pain mentally, exhausted physically; you’re not sure how everyone else was able to ignore it and go to sleep, but then you figure everyone else may not be as in tune with him as you are. As observant.

As in love.

Not that that matters: you know your issues, and some of his issues, and there’s the whole superior/subordinate thing which doesn’t really do anything for you except give you a stomach ache. It would never work out, even if he somehow, miraculously, were to love you back—and that’s a pretty big if in and of itself.

But still, you notice him, can’t help it, and the sighing is getting to be a little much. You sigh yourself, put your finger in between the pages of your book, and walk over to take the seat next to him; he looks over at you, frowning just like always, and you carefully close his file and set it aside.

Neither of you say anything to the other, just look each other over for a moment, and then you lean lightly against his shoulder and flip back to the beginning of your book.

“I still dream of the island. I sometimes approach it across water, but more often through air, like a bird, with a great wind under my wings. The shores rise rain-coloured on the horizon of sleep, and in their quiet circle the buildings: the houses grown along the canals, the workshops of inkmasters, the low-ceilinged taverns.”

You keep your voice low and soothing, and you are just turning to page fifteen when you feel the weight of his head drop onto your shoulder.

The crease between his eyes melts away in sleep.

You read until you make it home, and you wake him up with a gentle nudge before the rest of the team drifts back to consciousness. He looks at you, blinks slowly like he’s trying to remember where he is, and then gets a little sheepish when he puts two and two together, realizes he fell asleep on your shoulder.

You just shake your head, give his arm a squeeze, and head back to your seat to gather your things. You, Hotch, and Emily are catching the elevator to the parking garage—after staying two hours later to work on some rush consults straight from Strauss—when he looks at something on his phone that makes him groan aloud. You and Emily share a look, and you ask what’s wrong.

“I just remembered I’m supposed to have a treat for Jack to take to school tomorrow and it’s, what, seven thirty?”

“So just stop at the supermarket on your way home; no one can tell the difference anyway,” Emily says, but you and Hotch both shoot her a skeptical glance.

“It’s all about the treats at a school like Jack’s,” you supply, and Hotch looks over at you like he’s surprised by your comment. “If they’re not homemade, the parents talk. Plus there’s probably an allergen list a mile long: no nuts, no eggs, no soy, no dairy. You have to pick him up from Haley’s tonight, right?” You’re pretty sure, but when he nods he confirms it. “So pick him up, go home and get some dinner, put him to bed, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way over with the goods. I have a great recipe for vegan apple cinnamon muffins that will go over really well.”

“You really don’t have to do that; I’ll figure something out,” he says, but you just shake your head and pull up the recipe on your phone.

“Forget it, it’s already done. I have everything I need at home already; let me help,” you murmur softly, and when he looks at you with the furrowed brow that comes with accepting kindness from someone else, you almost forget it’s not just the two of you in the elevator. It’s only when Emily clears her throat that the eye contact breaks. He nods.

“Okay. Thank you; I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” The elevator dings and it stops at the parking garage; the three of you get off and head in separate directions for your cars. “I’ll text you.”

“Goodnight,” Emily says with a grin, and you wave at her, hop into your car, and head for home.

About two hours later, you show up at Hotch’s door with two dozen apple cinnamon muffins, and unbleached, whole wheat flour in your hair, and he has coffee brewing, a smile on his face.

“You don’t know how grateful I am,” he says as he ushers you into the kitchen, takes the boxes of muffins from your hands, and pours you a cup of dark, delicious coffee. You sip it slowly, savoring the taste—you should have known he’d have incredible coffee—even though it’s far too late for you to be indulging. Unless you’re working a case, you usually switch to decaf by three.

“I know you are. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t think you’d appreciate the gesture.” You lean forward, open a box, and pull out two muffins, handing one to him. “I made a couple extra so we could taste test; if I accidentally put salt in instead of sugar, you’re on your own,” you joke, and you wait for him to taste it before taking your own bite.

“That’s delicious. There’s really nothing unapproved in here?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Nope, it’s all healthy and allergen free, except for the flour, but that wasn’t on the list you sent.” He reaches a hand toward you, and you don’t realize, at first, that he’s brushing the flour out of your hair.

“Messy baker,” he teases, and your heart feels really full, being in his kitchen like this, warm muffins and fresh coffee, even if your hair is a mess. You smile, and he smiles back before dropping into that serious expression, eyebrow wrinkle and all. You think about brushing your lips there tonight, but this feels like two steps forward, and you don’t want to risk taking that step back. “Next time I’ll help you.”

“Oh, next time? You plan on needing my baking expertise again? Fair warning, this is the only recipe I know, so I hope you like apple cinnamon muffins.” You take a sip of your coffee, look up at him, and he takes another bite, nods his head.

“I do. Especially these.”

In a perfect world, what comes next would be a cinnamony, coffee flavored kiss, but the world’s not perfect, and you yawn instead. You look down at your mug like it’s betrayed you, and Hotch chuckles low.

“It’s decaf. I know you usually stop in the afternoon; I wouldn’t forgive myself if you were up all night because of me.” You have always been a person who falls in love with all the little details about someone, so the fact that he’s noticed this, remembers this, makes your heart beat a little faster. “I should let you go. You’ve done so much today, between staying late and baking for Jack—for me. You need to get some sleep.”

He’s right, it’s nearly ten, and you should be getting back home, but this is a moment you never want to end.

You just nod, though, and he reaches out to brush his hand over your back when he walks you to the door.

“Thank you again. I really appreciate that you did this for me,” he says, soft, like he still can’t imagine you would.

“You’re welcome, Hotch. Any time, really; I’m happy to help.”

You get home, clean your kitchen, and have a very late dinner, and the smell of good coffee and apples and cinnamon is still in your nose when you drift to sleep. “You didn’t hear what he said,” Hotch snaps almost a month later, with one hand splayed on his hip and the other on the table in front of him. The moment you saw him engaged in an argument with a member of the Sheriff’s department, fire in his eyes, you’d grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into a small conference room, shutting the door behind you. It took almost three minutes of staring at each other for him to say something instead of just glaring at you for interrupting the pissing contest.

“I don’t need to know what he said. I know you, and I know you handle people like that with a quick, sharp remark and then you wash your hands of it. You don’t argue back and forth, you don’t draw it out. You would have regretted it if you did that today, so I stopped you.”

“You think you know me so well, do you?” he asks in an unkind tone of voice you can’t identify, haven’t heard from him before; the expression on his face is familiar, though, a scowl that only puts emphasis on his handsome features—it’s unfair, really.

You exhale, cross your arms.

“Yes, and I know you well enough to know you’re irritated with him, not me, so cut the shit.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever been quite that direct with him, and certainly the first time you’ve ever sworn at him; your immediate instinct is to apologize, but he surprises you by huffing a laugh. The angry lines of his face smooth into something softer.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. He just—I can’t stand people like that.” He scrubs a hand through his hair in irritation. “We’re here to work—to do a job they couldn’t finish on their own. Not to be… objectified.” He mutters the last word, so low you almost don’t hear it, and then there’s a knock at the door. Derek enters.

“Sheriff wants a word, Hotch; do you have a sec?” With one last look at you, he nods, brushes past him to leave the room. Derek gives you the barest hint of a smile. “He was defending your honor, you know.”

You frown. You didn’t know.

“That jerk was talking about me?” you ask, clarifying, and he nods.

“Something about assuming you’re an athlete because he likes your ass. Set the boss man off.” You walk over to him and leave the room together, heading back to your workspace.

“Well Hotch is right, we’re here to work, not to be objectified. I can see how he would get angry.” Derek shoots you a flat, questioning glance.

“You think he’d be getting that worked up if it was my ass that guy was talking about? Or Emily’s?” The two of you stop outside the conference room, and you cross your arms, lean against the doorframe, frown.

“So what are you trying to say? That he sees me as being weak, thinks he needs to defend me? I'm as capable as either of you.” That may not be strictly true, because you’re a little more brains than brawn, like Spencer in that way, but you can hold your own and you thought Hotch knew that.

Derek just laughs, shakes his head, and ducks into the room. You follow, so confused.

“I thought you were just playing it close to the vest, but you’re oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oblivious about what?” Emily asks, pen between her teeth, feet kicked up onto a chair, and you shrug.

“I’m still not sure. Hotch got into an argument with a deputy about me, and I asked Derek if Hotch thinks I’m weak and that’s why he felt like he had to defend me.” She smiles broadly around the pen, pulls it out of her mouth with a grin.

“Oh, honey. That’s not it. You know that’s not it, right?”

“I clearly don’t know what’s going on at all, so no, if you’d care to enlighten me,” you say, sinking into an empty chair. “I hate it when you guys are cryptic.” You love your team, but they have a habit of doing this all the time, saying things to each other with their eyes, or just a few words that don’t have any sensible meaning that you know of. It’s like they live to talk over your head, to say things without actually saying them.

“Okay. Hotch has a thing for you,” Emily says simply, and you blink.

Well that’s the very last thing you’d expected to hear.

“He absolutely does not.” You look at Derek, who’s making a face like you’re the one being crazy; you laugh out loud, can’t help it. “He does not. I’m pretty sure Hotch doesn’t have things, and if he did, he wouldn’t have a thing for me.”

“Why not? Because that would be too convenient, since you have a thing for him too?” Derek asks, taking the seat across from you, and you grab the nearest case file, flip it open and focus your attention on it.

“I care about him, the same way I care about all of you, and he maybe needs a little more care—but you guys are reading into things.”

Thankfully, you don’t have to say anything more, because Hotch, JJ, and Spencer return, and you all have a lead to work.

You can’t help but wonder if you’re being obvious about your feelings, though, especially later, when you get back to the hotel and the group decides to have a drink at the bar.

JJ and Emily hit the pool table while Derek and Spencer head up for drinks, and you are left sitting with Hotch at the table, pressed together in the inside corner of a booth.

“Tired?” you ask him, because he does look worn out, his tie a bit loose, his eyes a little red. You know he doesn’t get much sleep when you travel, and you can’t imagine he’ll go to bed even when this little detour is over.

“Always,” he sighs, but when he looks over at you, he smiles, just a little. “Just can’t wait to get out of this town.”

“Yeah, it gives Southern hospitality a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?” The people you’ve interviewed today are, on paper, quite respectable, but there’s a Desperate Housewives, ‘everyone is sleeping with someone else's spouse’ kind of thing going on, and it’s honestly exhausting. To your surprise, Hotch laughs.

“It really does. I don’t think I’ve ever missed the quiet solitude of my apartment quite this much.” You lean back against the vinyl of the booth, sigh.

“I miss my apartment, but it’s been too quiet lately. I prefer the sounds of someone else sharing space with me: the coffee maker percolating, the news in the background, the shower running, the sound of flipping the pages of a book or magazine.” You look down at your hands, because you’re getting a little more emotional than you usually let other people see. “Sorry. I’m not typically this open about being…”

You trail off, but Hotch looks over at you, concerned, the wrinkle between his eyebrows even more noticeable when you’re sitting this close. You think, just briefly, of running your thumb over it, but with your luck, Derek or Emily would see, and you’d never live it down.

“Lonely?” he finishes softly, and when you nod your head, he covers your hands with one of his own, bumps his shoulder against yours. “I get lonely too. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” You look up at him, feeling a little vulnerable, and his expression softens. “When we get back, maybe you could come over for dinner some night. Nothing fancy,” he clarifies, and you smile, “just two lonely people being a little less lonely.”

“That would be really nice.” You can see Derek and Spencer approaching out of the corner of your eye, and Hotch must too, because he removes his hand, slips back into the slight, persistent frown you have come to know and love. Derek looks at you, raises an eyebrow, and hands you your beer. You try to tell him to shut up with your face, plan to follow up later to see if that actually worked. “We have an agent down on the second floor,” Spencer says into his comms, and you immediately want to slap him in the back of the head.

“Don’t say agent down, kid; I’m like, slightly wounded at best.” You hold a hand against the stab wound on your side—the unsub honestly just grazed you, and you’d knocked him out with a single punch, which made you feel pretty awesome—and reach out the other so he can help pull you to your feet. Your hand comes up to your own walkie button. “I’m not down, I’m fine—just slightly stabbed,” you add, and Spencer is getting his cuffs on the unsub when Hotch and JJ burst through the doors.

Well, Hotch bursts. JJ follows behind looking strangely winded for one of the most naturally athletic people you know.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he asks, and you lift your shirt to show him the sluggishly bleeding gash.

“I’m fine, see? It’s not even deep. Spencer saw blood and got a little ahead of himself.” You turn to Spencer, who sticks out his tongue, then back to Hotch, who looks haunted and pale, with that goddamn wrinkle between his eyebrows again. He’s bent down, looking over your wound seriously—you’ve had worse, so much worse, that you don’t understand why he’s so worried about it—and then he leans up, presses a hand to your cheek, and pulls you close for a soft, tender kiss.

If this were a movie, right about now a camera would be panning around you in a circle, as you wrap your free hand around his neck, pull him closer, melt against his body like it’s all you’ve been dreaming of for months, and the two of you would break apart smiling, maybe even kiss again.

It’s not a movie, though, so you just bleed out against your hand and freeze, because Hotch is kissing you at a crime scene and you almost got filleted, so you’re not sure if this is a you got hurt, so I’d better kiss you kiss or an I’ve been wanting to kiss you forever, and you got hurt so I have to kiss you kiss.

When he breaks the kiss, you’re both breathing a bit heavily, and you don’t know what to do, so you just lean in and press your lips to that wrinkle between his eyebrows that you’ve been thinking about so frequently since the first time you noticed it. You brush a hand through his hair, and when you pull back, he’s smiling.

“What was that?” He covers your hand on your side with his own and helps get you toward the elevator so you can be patched up by the EMTs; JJ and Spencer are left staring, open-mouthed in your wake, with an unconscious unsub at their feet, but neither of you are concerned about that.

“I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now: to kiss that spot between your eyes so you’ll stop frowning for a change. Since I couldn’t, I decided to find other ways to help you stop frowning so much. It kind of became my life’s mission.” He sighs, puts his arm around you and holds you close while you wait for the elevator to bring you to the ground floor.

“I stop frowning when you’re around because you’re around, not just because of the things you do for me,” he tells you, and he presses his lips to yours for another warm, soft, perfect kiss. “I’ve been thinking of doing that for months now.” You tilt your head, make a sound of contemplation, and he chuckles softly. “What is it?”

“I think those cryptic idiots we work with might be onto something,” you say with a grin, and when the elevator lets you off and Hotch helps you toward the ambulance to be patched up, Derek and Emily are waiting with concerned looks on their faces. They must be pretty confused to see you’re grinning from ear to ear. “Hey, you guys were right; Hotch does have a thing for me!” you call as you walk past them, and when your wound is properly dressed and wrapped, you put your arms around his neck and let him kiss you until the frown and accompanying wrinkle are nothing but distant memories.

*The novel excerpt is from The Weaver by Emmi Itäranta.

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juniorgman187 · 4 years

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Most Ardently (Spencer Reid Drabble)

Based on my incurable obsession with Pride and Prejudice!

Summary: Regular customer, Spencer Reid, proclaims his love for Reader, a worker in the bookstore, through the only thing as beautiful as love itself - literature.

Couple: GenderNeutral!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Fluff, Drabble, One Shot Word Count: 1.1k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Call me what you want, but if there’s one word you should use to describe me - it better be observant.

Most people would call me nosy, but it’s not like I was snooping or prying to get the information that I did. It was just there, in plain sight. Every time I cashed out a customer, I observed what they were buying for books, which, again, isn’t snooping, and therefore, isn’t nosy.

Regular customers like Miss Jane, the third-grade teacher, often bought books geared towards her students’ demographic, with the occasional steamy romance or self-help book. I liked her. She was fun.

Another regular was Ed Corrigan. He was just an elderly man that liked to stop by on Sundays, usually with a piping hot cup of coffee in hand. He read books about fantasy, utopian and dystopian worlds, science fiction.

If I had one wish, I’d wish to be half as cool as him when I grow up.

But there was one regular customer in particular that I had my eye on.

Mr. Spencer Reid.

He didn’t come in as frequently as Miss Jane or Mr. Ed Corrigan - his visits were monthly, and if I got lucky, sometimes he’d come in every other week. But the reason why I could remember him so vividly despite the rarity of his presence was because of his taste in literature.

It was the exact same as mine - classics.

Dickens. Wilde. Asimov. Bradbury. Poe. Chaucer. Bronte. Melville. Homer. Thoreau. Emerson. Whitman. Doyle.

I think his affinity for classical authors made him all the more attractive - not to say that his looks wouldn’t suffice if he had a different preference, because they most certainly would. He was certainly beautiful. Very, very beautiful.

But to be frank, I looked forward to his visits for the sole reason that I was unequivocally, irreversibly, hopelessly in love with him.

He’d been coming to the bookstore for years now, and even though we never spent time together outside of my work, I felt like I knew him - that I’d known him my entire life.

People like to say that books are the windows to the soul, but I strongly disagree. The books you like are the windows to your soul. Thankfully, he was always around to buy ‘the windows to his soul.’ And each time he was here, I’d cash him out, observing his ‘soul.’ In fact, he bought books so often that I had to wonder what his job was. I suppose the same well-paying job that helped him afford his red-bottom shoes, suits, high-end messenger bags, and the occasional Comme Des Garçons cardigan supported his book addiction, too.

Luckily for me, he was a gentleman. Whether it was intentional or not, he’d never make me wait too long after leaving before he came back. Even luckier for me, he came in twice this month - once a couple of weeks ago and today.

I was organizing a bookshelf in the autobiography section when he stumbled upon me.

“Hey!” His voice only ever reached that high a pitch whenever he was truly overjoyed.

“Hey, Mr. Reid!” I grinned, getting up from the floor to greet him at the proper eye level. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he nodded slowly. “Great now, actually. Because you were just the person I was looking for.”

“I am?”

“I was wondering if you knew where I could find Pride and Prejudice.”

I didn’t mean for my eyebrows to furrow quizzically, but they did out of earnest shock. “Pride and Prejudice?” I asked once more to confirm that I heard correctly.

“Yeah. Why? Do you not like Pride and Prejudice?”

“No, no, I love that book, I’m just surprised you’d want to read it. It’s not really your type.”

“My type?”

Now he was the one with the quizzical brow, returning the same perplexed expression I had on my face just a moment ago.

“I just mean it’s . . . it’s a love story. It’s romantic.”

Rule 1 of when you’re stuck in a hole? Stop digging!

Instantly, I tried to renounce the words that seemed to be failing me. “Not to say that you’re not romantic, just that it’s sort of like -” Thankfully he spared me the agony. “I didn’t think that’s what you meant.” A chuckle escaped him, lightening the room’s air that was suffocating me a second ago.

Trying to regain some dignity, I brushed aside my mental malfunction and said, “But yes. I do know where to find it. Lemme show you.”

He followed close behind as I guided him through the bookstore. He was so close that I could smell his cologne. It was the kind so unique to him, but so perfect in its own way that you could smell it over and over again and you’d never grow tired of it, but you’d never satisfy the insatiable desire to smell it.

When I finally found the bookshelf with Pride and Prejudice, I went down the aisle, and strangely, he departed from me, walking into the aisle on the other side of the shelf. I didn’t question it and just left it up to the assumption that he was being his delightfully peculiar self.

While searching for the book, I’d peer between each spine and inadvertently notice him staring down at me from his towering height. I even saw how he followed my every movement, right down to the pace of my footsteps as I walked through the aisle. At one point, I caught one of his stolen glances, unconsciously looking down immediately after I did so that he might not catch the way my eyes lit up from looking into his.

Eventually, we both made it to the end of the row, and we met at the opposite side of the shelf that we started at. Handing him Pride and Prejudice, I said the usual line I would normally say at the cash register.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?”

He paused to fight the smile creeping onto his face.

“I did, actually. That - and then some.”

My quizzical brow returned. “And then some? What else did you find?”

I waited for an answer that never came but an answer I already knew.

Love.

Just as a means to break the loud silence, I told him, “I think you’ll really like this book.”

“Actually, I’ve read it before.” He responded, not surprising me in the least. Given how well-read he is, how could he not have already read it?

“What’s your favorite quote?”

He didn’t even pause to think before answering.

“We are all fools in love.”

This brought an unexpected smile to my face. “Do you believe that?”

“Ardently.”

His word choice alluded to a quote in the book he knew I’d be reminded of.

‘I love you. Most ardently.’

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

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appleinducedsleep · 3 years

Text

Never Let Me Go discussion @readerbookclub

Never Let Me Go is a 2005 dystopian science fiction novel written by Kazuo Ishiguro. The story is narrated by Kathy H., who describes herself as a carer (and has been for twelve years), talking about looking after organ donors. Her story often returns to Hailsham, a boarding school in England, where she grew up with her friends and where the teachers are known as guardians.

Review: 🌟🌟🌟 I liked the writing style, the first person narrative really worked in this story. It might not be everyone's cup of tea though. The theme is interesting enough, but the universe itself is underdeveloped and you finish this book with more questions than answers.

Next up *spoilers* :

For our March book club book, a new set of questions was provided by @readerbookclub (thank you!)

Is this a book you would have otherwise read? If not, are you more open to similar books in the future? Are dystopian novels something you typically enjoy? How would you say this book compares to other dystopian literature?

I do like dystopian stories, though I don’t read them regularly and it’s pretty much all YA or George Orwell books. Maybe that’s why the stories I read were more about changing the established order. This story was not about changing anything, it was bleak and passive and nostalgic about it.

Other people already pointed out how frustrating this mind-set is, and I absolutely agree. Perhaps because the big scandal that rocked the country wasn’t even about clones rebelling, but about genetics being used to make super-humans. The clones themselves were an after-thought, not even considered human anyway.

If you had to describe this book in three words, what would they be?

Passive, tragic, trapped.

Do you think the donors are a metaphor for something in the real world?

According to the interview, they aren’t. It’s about love, friendship and mortality. It’s easy to put some sort of meaning into it though. Whether it be organ donations or a religious theme. But it’s not. More the pity. Yet it was obvious that the universe wasn’t really thought out. It didn’t seem to extend beyond Hailsham and England, and even the way the donations worked was kept vague but inescapable.

Did the story play out in the way you expected, or did it surprise you? Which scene stood out most to you? Why?

So I actually had read this book before, but didn’t remember it. The first chapter already was familiar enough though. The more I read, the more I already knew how all the big plot points would play out. Still I wanted that referral to work out... and even that dream, the referral itself, would have bought Kathy and Tommy only three or four years. That’s how little they allowed themselves to hope.

That said, several scenes were pretty heart-wrenching and memorable, I’m picking three:

1) Ruth not knowing how to play chess, pretending she did, and then freezing Kathy out when Kathy asked her to teach her (p.53), was not even the first red flag, but it was significant. How different would Kathy’s life at Hailsham been had she struck up a friendship with Moira right there and then, instead of living for Ruth’s approval. I thought that really reflected childhood friendship though.

2) Tommy catching Kathy looking at porn mags (p.134), and realizing it went much, much deeper, though the truth wouldn’t come out until the Norfolk trip, where they would find the lost cassette (which was also memorable). Tommy was so underappreciated in this book.

3) But the moment on page 264, just suckerpunched me; Miss Emily, this fighter in the trenches, said:

“Make no mistake about it, my child, Marie-Claude is on your side and will always be on your side. Is she afraid of you? We’re all afraid of you. I myself had to fight back my dread of you all almost everyday I was at Hailsham. There were times I’d look down at you all from my study window and I’d feel such revulsion...” She stopped, then something in her eyes flashed again. “But I was determined not to let such feelings stop me doing what was right. I fought those feelings and I won. Now, if you’d be so good as to help me out of here, George should be waiting with my crutches.”

What a hero, indeed. Where do you go from there? Even your fiercest supporter flinches back from your existence.

And how does that make sense in the narrative... why prove these children have a soul at all, if you think them so unnatural? How can you say this to your two former charges, who you watched grow up, whose art you took, and comforted when they couldn’t produce any? Who exactly is the real monster here?

What did you think of the authors style? Have you read any of their books before? Would you read their work in the future? How did you feel about Kathy as a narrator? Do you think first person narration suited this story?

The author had a way of making the horrible absolutely mundane. There was almost more emphasis on the teenage squabbles than on the organ donation. It makes sense, the writer said this story was supposed to be about love, friendship and mortality, and there was something unsettling about this creeping horror in the background.

While I mostly enjoyed Kathy’s way of narrating, sometimes it jumped around a lot. Like ‘to understand [this moment], we have to go back to [some other moment]’. Sometimes I just wanted to understand the story about the vegetable patch without jumping through three memory hoops.

@elfspectations also talked about how Tommy would be an interesting narrator, and while I don’t think this story would have lend itself to multiple narrators (I’m so glad there was just the one!), it’s an interesting thought.

Would you say the characters’ personalities changed throughout the story? If so, how did you feel about these changes? The characters were often unnecessarily mean in the way they talked to one another. Why do you think that is? Did this affect your sympathy for them?

Not until the actual donations, except for Tommy. Like Ruth suddenly became weak as a kitten, and Kathy felt bad for kicking her when she was down, but still ganged up on her with Tommy. Ruth was always the one that needed attention, the one who would lie and manipulate and wanted to be special. I can’t blame her exactly. Growing up with the knowledge that you’re just on earth to give away your organs... like I can’t blame Ruth for wanting some control in her life, for wanting to be special, to be singled out by a guardian. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but Tommy had his meltdowns (he developed as a character though, because he mostly grew out of this), while Ruth fiercely tried to cling to control, and Kathy found safety in being the objective observer. Still, Ruth is just unredeemable after she admitted to just wanting to keep Kathy and Tommy apart, cheating on Tommy and pretend Kathy was a freak for her sexual urges. She gave them Madam’s address, but too little, too late.

So for a book supposedly about friendship, I felt the friendships were actually pretty terrible. Tommy was often the butt of the joke, even by Kathy. Something that should have been innocent teasing, often didn’t feel that way. Still, Kathy and Tommy’s friendship was the one positive note in this whole book.

If you could ask the writer a question, what would it be?

However did Ruth and Tommy end up together? I want that scene, because their relationship didn’t make any sense to me. Ruth was, of course, a terrible, terrible friend, and wanted to keep Tommy away from Kathy, but this whole thing just baffled me anyway. Everyone deserved better (and with everyone I only mean the clones).

#readerbookclub #books #booklr #never let me go #kazuo ishiguro #miss emily can go to hell #book photography #quotes #my books #never let me go discussion #book discussion

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theaufanartist · 3 years

Text

“𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.”

Kang Yeo Sang💝

Part 3-Part 4

The following days, Yeo Sang and you talked a lot, each with the motive to try and understand the other, but surprisingly growing closer to each other. You slowly got to know that he loved eating chicken, he loved books since it was already evident from the fact that he was the president of the book club, and he loved RnB.

For Yeo Sang, it wasn’t really much of a surprise how much you loved fantasy novels, since there was always a new dystopian book in your hand every week. He came to know that you loved fettuccine pasta more than spaghetti, how you scrunch up your nose when you’re cringed about something, and there are two scrunch lines on either side of your nose, between your eyebrows. He loved every detail about you, but what was it that was drawing you both closer to each other? It seemed like you both already knew so much about each other.

“Hey,”you sit next to Yeo Sang in the library, a brown book in your hand. He smiles at you, but raises an eyebrow once he sees what’s in your hand.

“Rebirth?”

“Yeah, I found this book. It’s about a King of Yeonsu-dong, who falls in love with his Commander in Chief, but they sadly pass away while saving the king,”you say, flipping through the pages, pouting. He smiles at you, because he knew how much you hated it when one of the lovers passed away.

“You can take a break from the science fiction you read,”you say, giggling at him. He smirks at you. You slide the book towards him, making him stare at it.

“Read it,”you say, before pinching his cheek, making him glare at you playfully, “I gotta go to class. See you later, sweet cheeks,”you say, winking at him. He smirks at you and waves you off.

“Rebirth huh,”he mumbles, fingers grazing over the title of the book etched on the cover. He shrugs his shoulders. Taking the book, he leaves the library.

After walking you to your house, he stops by the butterfly park, as you named it, and stays there. He watches the sun set slowly, the sky turning from yellow to orange to red to purple. He smiles thinking about you, and gets up to go home.

Once he opens the door to his bedroom, he reaches for the book you gave him.

“Let’s see what it got.”

After a while of reading, he feels those battle scenes all too familiar.

The mentions of blue monarch butterflies throws him off guard, too. He remembers you spacing out and later tell him how you felt that every moment with him felt familiar. As he skims through the words on the page, he comes across a certain paragraph, where it all becomes crystal clear.

“𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘠𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶-𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.”

“Huh, this is interesting,”he mumbles, “very interesting.”

His mind wanders back to the park. When he told his mother about it, she never believed it, thinking he read about it somewhere, neither did your parents, as you narrated their reactions to him. He pondered a lot, till he searched up everything online. Shock was an understatement, when his name popped up in the last ruler of Yeonsu-dong, an illustration that resembled him so much along with another woman, he presumed was the king’s wife, along with a girl on his lap. What shocked him was there was an illustration of you dressed in a war armour, standing next to the King and an old man, which he assumed was the father of the King. The illustration was so eerily alike to yours. That night, he stayed up late, till he didn’t finish searching up everything.

The book helped him link dots to his true self. He kept searching till he found the thesis papers online, who searched up on the said King. Some of them couldn’t yet find the remains of the King and the Commander, but he knew where they were. He picked up his phone, and dialled the number of that one person he knew would definitely help him.

“Yeo, it’s 3 am for fuck sake, I swear to God if you-“

“I’ve got something to tell you. Bring a helping hand and shovels,”he says, before he cuts the call.

After few minutes, he finds a car in the drive way of his house, a hand waving at him.

“Thanks Woo,”Yeo Sang says, opening the door of his car.

“What the hell did you want a shovel for? Did you kill someone?”

“What, no! Okay, this might seem really weird, but I think I’ve got answers to those weird dreams I’ve been getting,”he mumbles, making Woo sigh.

“Were you the King or something?”San jokes from the backseat, making Woo giggle. When Yeo Sang doesn’t respond, both of their laughters die out.

“Don’t tell me,”San mumbles, making Yeo sigh.

“Yes,”he whispers loud enough for them to hear.

“Wow,”Woo Young sighs, “where do we need to go with San and these shovels?”he asks, pointing at San with his thumb and the weapons near him.

“I’ll drive,”Yeo Sang suggests, making Woo Young nod at his suggestion.

After a drive of 10 minutes, they reach their destination. Yeo Sang opens the rusty gates, a creaking sound resonating, making Woo Young and San cover their ears.

When they enter the garden, their eyes widen in disbelief. San pushes Woo Young aside, gawking at the butterflies which were flying around.

“This place,”he says, walking on the soft grass, “this is the garden of King-“

He looks at Yeo Sang, who was just staring at him.

“How did you find it?”

“I used to come here as a kid,”he begins, reminiscing his childhood discovery place, which turned it into his comfort place.

“Do they-“

“Yep.”

The three of them stand still, the birds chirping in the background.

“Why did you ask for shovels?”Woo Young questions him.

“Do you think the King is buried here?”San asks, making Yeo Sang nod at him.

“This is the place that was mentioned in the thesis papers, online,”he states, walking over to Woo, “I think their bodies should be buried somewhere here.”

“We thought that this place was a myth,”San mumbles, hand brushing over the grass, “I think you finding this place out confirms it all.”

“That he is the King we talked about?”Woo Young asks, making San nod.

“You’re King Yeo Sang, the last King of the Kang Dynasty, buried next to the Commander in Chief, as per his request,”San whispers.

“So, the dreams you were seeing were everything that happened to you in the past?”Woo Young asks, making Yeo Sang nod.

“And the surprising thing is, they saw some of those dreams too, that kind of acted as a link to mine,”he says, making their eyes widen in surprise.

“You should tell this to them,”San suggests, placing a hand on Yeo Sang’s shoulder, “they deserve to know this, too.”

“He’s right Yeo,”Woo chimes in, hugging Yeo Sang, “we’re there for you. It’s good that you’ve at least got it all out.”

“Yeah, I just need to tell this to them,”he says, the three of them now sitting with their legs spread, seeing the sun rise, dawning upon them the revelation of the past.

While walking back to the car, San stops midway, making the other two turn back.

“No wonder my cat seems to like you,”he says, making Yeo Sang raise his eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“Her name is Byeol,”he says, “she was named after one of our ancestors, the King’s sister, Kang Byeol.”

“You seriously want to believe the fact that just because she’s named Byeol, she would be the King’s sister?”Woo Young asks, a comical look on his face.

“Can be true tho,”San mutters, making both of them chuckle at him.

______________________________________________________________________

“Hey,”you greet the trio, who were smiling at you.

“Hey you,”Yeo Sang greets, hugging you. This was surprising, because you’re always the first one to initiate contact.

“You seem to be in a good mood,”you say, making the other two grin at you. Yeo Sang breaks the hug, smiling.

“The three of you’re scaring me with your grins,”you laugh nervously.

“Meet me at our spot after school,”Yeo Sang whispers, “I’ve got answers.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, nodding at him. He smiles and pecks your forehead.

“See you, sweet cheeks,”he says, smiling at your shocked face. Woo Young and San giggle at the scene, leaving you a blushing mess.

“What the hell just happened?”you whisper to yourself.

______________________________________________________________________

You reach your spot before he does. The butterflies were flying as usual. You smile at them, making way to sit on the ground. There were so many flowers around you, it made you feel that you belonged there. But your thoughts slowly drift back to what Yeo Sang said.

“𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴.”

What did he mean by that?

While you were lost in your own thoughts, you failed to hear the soft footsteps on the grass of a certain someone who had your heart racing ever since you saw him.

“Hey,”he says, deep voice rumbling in his chest, making you putty in your place.

“Hey,”you say, smiling at him, “you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah,”he replies. Taking the book you gave him out of his backpack along with a few more papers and what looked like a notebook filled with notes, he places it in your lap. You look at it quizzically.

“I did some research last night,”he mumbles. You look through the papers in your lap, squinting at the one particular illustration that caught your sight.

“Is that-”

“Yeah,”he says, now turning his body to look at you.

“Does that mean-”

“Yes.”

You turn to look at him. You take out the sketch of the person from your dreams, and try syncing it with one of the illustrations on the papers Yeo Sang gave. You gasp aloud, eyes widening in disbelief when the facial structure matches to the King’s. Your eyes start watering unintentionally. You trace the features of the King, and look at Yeo Sang, whose eyes were mirroring your action.

“Are we really?”your voice breaks, making Yeo Sang nod at you. You cry silently. Yeo Sang pulls you towards him such that you’re straddling him. You cry in his chest, hugging him tightly. He cries silently, hands brushing through your hair, calming you.

You move away from his chest, his face saddening due to sudden loss of touch. You wipe your eyes with your sweater paws, sniffling. He tips your chin to look into your eyes. Saying nothing you both lean in, lips touching, fitting the last piece of the puzzle of your lives. You cry into the kiss, hands behind his head, as he mirrors your actions. The kiss was nothing compared to any you ever had. This one had an intense feeling of longing, happiness and 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

You both break the kiss, panting to catch your breath. He leans in to touch your forehead, thumb swiping your bottom lip, then caressing your cheeks.

“Yeo,”you mumble.

“Shh,”he whispers, “I know.”

“What now?” You ask, as you raise your head to look at him, who’s already looking at you.

“I don’t know,”he says, “all I know is 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.”

“So,”you begin, “let’s be that way.”

He smiles at you, catching your lips with his, kissing you like his life depended on it. You broke the kiss and smiled, placing a small kiss on his cheek, and threw your arms around his neck, making him snake his arms round your waist, hugging you like you would disappear any moment.

“I’m never letting you go,”he mumbles in your hair, taking in the sweet scent of vanilla musk and coconut. You nuzzle your head in his neck and shoulder juncture, placing a kiss there.

“I’m never leaving you again,”you say, both lost in the presence after nearly 40 decades of their lost love.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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“We Have Just Never Listened to Women”: Patrick Ness on Chaos Walking’s Relevance Today

https://ift.tt/3sLzUTC

Patrick Ness’ 2008 science fiction young adult novel The Knife of Never Letting Go was published the same year as Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games, but while the latter launched a dystopian YA franchise, Ness’ Chaos Walking series seemed to attract more of a cult following despite tackling similar early-2000s issues through a speculative lens. While Collins struck an arrow through the heart of reality television, Ness turned his attention to information overload, manifesting it as the Noise: an ever-present broadcast of one’s most private, cringeworthy, hateful, earnest thoughts for all to hear—but only for men.

On the “New World,” an alien planet only recently colonized by humans, the all-male settlement of Prentisstown has ascribed varyingly demanding interpretations of masculinity and morality to their members’ handling of the Noise. Todd Hewitt, the community’s sole boy, must come of age when he faces something even more chaotic than his Noise: the first girl he’s ever seen, a silent space traveler named Viola.

Over a decade later, the book’s dual commentary on information overload and toxic masculinity remains relevant. In fact, as Ness told Den of Geek, the intervening 13 years have only provided more dire inspiration for adapting his novel to the big screen. Doug Liman’s adaptation of Chaos Walking, starring Tom Holland and Daisy Ridley, finally arrives in the UK (it hit the US last month) after a perfect storm of delays, from scheduling around two of the biggest franchise stars to dealing with COVID-19 setbacks. The film conjures a similar lo-fi dystopian setting as Gary Ross’ The Hunger Games film while transforming the book’s free-associating monologue into an ever-present visual and aural halo—not unlike the information overload depicted in more tech-y futuristic tales.

In addition to the forceful depiction of the Noise, Ness spoke with Den of Geek about the book dog’s Noise that didn’t make the final cut, the Western homages behind Mads Mikkelsen’s villainous Mayor Prentiss, and what happens when men don’t listen to women.

DEN OF GEEK: When you first wrote The Knife of Never Letting Go, it was a response to information overload circa 2007. What was it like revisiting the story to adapt it over a decade later?

PATRICK NESS: Gosh, just that the world has gotten so much noisier—that there’s just so much more information coming at us. If the original idea was about questioning how much of ourselves we feel obliged to share and give to the world, that question has only become—not more serious, but we now do it so automatically that I just want to be sure that we keep asking that question: What are we losing, and how much of ourselves do we need to keep our sense of identity? The other big thing that’s happened in the last 13 years is that we’ve all gotten so used to sharing on social media—we’ve gotten so used to what it does, that it’s such a fabric of our lives—that people have now recognized, “I can abuse this. I can use this to tell lies; I can use this to make fake enemies; I can use this to manipulate elections”—for example. The genie isn’t gonna go back into the bottle, and I’m not some doomsayer saying we need to go back to phones and blah blah blah. We need to not forget that we have a choice of what to share and that there are—for all the good things the Internet brings us, which it does—we should not and must not ignore the darker parts of it, because there are very dark parts of it.

That darkness is especially apparent in the culture of Prentisstown and their need to control the Noise. In adapting, did you find yourself approaching Prentisstown differently than when you wrote the book?

Books

Top New Fantasy Books in April 2021

By Megan Crouse

Lots and lots of special effects tests and approaches, some really cool technology. There was a Noise unit on the film, so Tom would stand in the middle of a circle of cameras capturing him from 360 degrees, linking it up. Then the final results are a combination of all those things: technology, some artwork, some animation. My favorite little bit of it is a scene where Daisy Ridley’s walking up a hill and Tom Holland is behind her, and he’s kinda grumpy about her, and he’s complaining, and you see the complaints kinda just fly off the back of his head. That, to me, is what Noise would be.

Was there anything cut from the book, or an early version of the screenplay, that you would have loved to have seen?

One of my favorite characters in the book is called Wilf; and he does play an important part later in the trilogy, as well. But it’s a 500-page book, and at most a movie is a long short story, so you do have to make sacrifices. But what you get in exchange is, there’s a scene in the film where Tom and Daisy are under a little tarp in the rain, and something very funny happens. And that’s not in the book, but what you get in exchange is something like that, a little scene that expresses a ton that you can do visually, because [that scene] wouldn’t work in a book. I don’t mind; you give and you get. I’ve always viewed adaptations, even when it’s not my own work, as a remix. It’s not a cover version, it’s not an exact replica, it’s a remix. If I can start with that premise, then I can feel more creative.

Was there ever a version in which Todd’s dog Manchee has the Noise, like in the book?

Yes! But what you find out very quickly is that it’s all kind of about real estate. The animal Noise is very funny in the book, to me—it always made me laugh—and in a massive novel of 110,000 words, that real estate in the book doesn’t take up much. A movie is much more compressed, so every time an animal spoke, it just took up so much room in the movie. And it is funny, because it’s meant to be, but it kind of unbalanced the story, and it totally took away from what really needed to happen. Read the book, is what I would say, because I still love the idea, it still makes me laugh; but in a movie, it becomes too cartoon-y. We’re not making The Incredible Journey, as wonderful as it is! So you have to make some sacrifices.

The movie ends differently from the book, which is more of a clear cliffhanger setting up book 2, The Ask and the Answer; whereas the movie is left open-ended for sequels, but on a less dire note. What influenced this decision?

Doug Liman is an exploratory filmmaker; it’s a different approach than any director I’ve ever met. He’s really very much about what’s happening on set, what feels the right energy, where are we going—which is why there’s additional photography in all of his films. That’s always planned, it’s always in advance; we always knew that was going to happen, we just had to schedule the two biggest franchise stars in the world. But because of that, the story tends to organically develop. So we thought, Where are these two going in particular now that we have these actors, we have this situation, and it just starts to slightly change.

And I don’t mind that—again, in the remix idea—but what it interestingly has done is that it’s become more pandemic-themed, unintentionally, in that here are all these people who have been presented with a situation completely beyond their control, so how do they adapt? And there is a hopeful feeling at the end of this film, one I think is true, because they’ve really earned it, but also it’s like what we’ve done—we’re talking via Zoom, we’ve adjusted. It’s not perfect, and we’re all waiting for a better world, but we’re also probably not gonna go back to the old world, exactly. We’ve found a way, and that is kinda the whole point of the story, which is, here is the very worst example of people who didn’t find a way, as we move forward to people who do. To me, the ending makes emotional sense.

Are there plans to adapt one or both of the book sequels?

They’re optioned, they’re ready, but with a new series it’s all about if an audience wants it.

How did your experience adapting the screenplay for A Monster Calls influence your work on Chaos Walking?

Very different filmmakers, which is interesting because I always tell people writing novels that there’s no one way to do it—as long as you end up with a novel, you’ve done it right, so find out what works for you. So, a very different experience as a writer, but interesting in their own ways.

Books

Top New Science Fiction Books in April 2021

By Megan Crouse

The great thing about [A Monster Calls director] J.A. Bayona is a real lack of ego about ideas; an idea is good or it’s bad, it doesn’t matter who or where it came from. He’s very clear on that, he’s very sincere about that, and that really frees you up creatively. And so I really try to bring that to anything I collaborate on now; I try to never ever be any kind of snob about my ideas or anybody else’s—it’s just what’s better, what works; an idea is good or bad on its own, not because it came from somebody powerful. I think it makes everybody feel more comfortable; we’re all in it together, trying to make something interesting.

What was it about Daisy, Tom, Mads, et al, that made you feel that they were right for the roles in Chaos Walking? Mads in particular has such a striking look as Mayor Prentiss, with the cowboy hat, jumpsuit, and fabulous fur coat.

That coat is actually a tribute to McCabe & Mrs. Miller, a Warren Beatty Western from Robert Atlman. It’s interesting that they’re all European! We didn’t go out hunting for necessarily European, but also Cynthia [Erivo] is European, and David’s European. Nick [Jonas] is not… [laughs] But there is a sensibility that feels approachable to Tom and Daisy, that I think is their little movie-star magic, that they are not forbidding. Forbidding movie stars can be amazing! But they seem like somebody that you could meet, and talk to; and for a younger-centered film, that is vital, to feel like these could be my friends, and I care about them and am worried about what happens to them. That is what they bring so beautifully to the movie. And Mads has that magnificent face—he’s got such a great acting face, especially for a villain—and his manner, the sort of Scandinavian understatements, I love it.

Especially for a villain who’s trying to hide his thoughts—there’s so much still that comes through on his face.

A villain who thinks he’s right! He doesn’t think he’s a villain—and that’s the scariest kind of all.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Chaos Walking is available for premium rental at home on all digital platforms from 2nd April.

The post “We Have Just Never Listened to Women”: Patrick Ness on Chaos Walking’s Relevance Today appeared first on Den of Geek.

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it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes · 4 years

Text

Writings

So, @mychemicalimagines convinced me to post a couple of my writings and to tag her, so here it is.

There are two pieces under the cut. One is a poem and one is a short story. They are posted in that order. First the poem, then the story. Both are written by me, both for a creative writing class.

Gone

I miss her

I tell myself

We’ll see each other again

I’d be lying if I said

She’d miss me while she’s gone

She told me before she left

This is goodbye

I know that.

People move

And

People leave.

Now read bottom to top

The last day of spring began like any other spring day. Flowers bloomed, morning dew shined on the grass where the light hit it, and the sun shined. I remember that day in great detail. I feel it was the best spring day that ever existed. The few that recall that day seem to agree with me, though I could be mistaken. Now, some may wonder why I referred to it as the last day of spring. That’s because that last day of spring was eighteen years ago. It was the last day of spring to ever exist. Spring has been completely gone for eighteen years and I’m one of the only people who knows what happened to it. All that most people know is that spring is gone now. Everyone misses it, even me. Since the war, everything is dead and lifeless. All the plants are a reddish-brown color. I miss greens, pinks, purples, even yellow. I miss the bees. Everything is dead and gone now, even me. Well, not quite me. But all the plants. A lot of the people, too. So much is different since spring ended. I think I should probably tell this story from the beginning, shouldn’t I?

The Last Day of Spring

~~Eighteen years prior~~

I have been told today is the first day of the end of the world. No one else is aware of this. But I have to be. I’m the reason that spring is ending today. I am the cause of the end of spring. And with the downfall of spring, hopefully, comes the downfall of the world. The downfall of humans. I’ve never liked them. None of my species ever have. That’s why we’re doing this. That’s why we infiltrated humanity. To ensure the downfall of humans, forever.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Humans would never have thought the world would end on the last day of spring. Spring, an embodiment of new beginnings and fresh starts. Spring, a time full of hope for the coming year. And yet, at the end of spring comes the end of the world. What a cruel twist of fate.

"Remember just last week, when you were laughing and picking flowers?" A familiar voice calls from across the room, startling me from my thoughts. I look up, looking at my mother's face. She claims I'm only ten years old, and that it's reasonable that I was laughing and picking flowers. I know better. I have not been ten years old for a long time. "Or the week before," mother's voice starts again, taking me away from my thoughts, "when you spoke of how you didn't like rain very much, but knew it was good for the environment." My mother seems to hold back a frown, possibly unhappy about something. Maybe she's scared of what the end of the world will mean for her? Or maybe for my supposed family. Her parents. Though that’s unlikely. Mom knows nothing of the plans for the world, so she can’t possibly be worried. She has nothing to worry about, right? I quickly shake myself from my thoughts, knowing she probably expects a response.

"Mom? I'm scared." My voice is shakier than normal, with me trying to sound like a ten-year-old who is scared. I feel like I succeeded, though I don’t know for sure. When I first met her, I felt a little bad for her. She seemed lonely. I felt a little bad for replacing her child, though Mom may never know the difference between the real Nix and I. I never asked for her real name, deciding calling her ‘mom’ would be less suspicious. I decide after a few moments to continue speaking, knowing I should elaborate about being ‘scared’. "Do you really think the world will end?" I look at the older woman, trying to gauge her reaction.

"Of course not sweetie, the world has been around a long time. It won’t end, not in your lifetime. I promise." I look at her and try to figure out her words. Before I can think too much into things, she continues. “And you’ve been reading too many science-fiction books again, haven’t you Nix?”

I smile slightly before nodding, attempting to have an almost shameful look on my face. “You caught me, Mom. You know I love science-fiction and fantasy novels, especially dystopian when I can find it. I just think it's cool to read this stuff.” My words bring a smile to her face as she nods, understanding what I’m saying completely.

“I know, Nix. But they also make you more paranoid about the world ending, even if it isn’t likely to end.” I have to hold back a laugh at her statement, knowing the world will definitely end soon. “Okay, sweetie, I’m gonna make you some lunch now.”

As Mom heads into the kitchen to make my lunch, I laugh quietly to myself. I can’t believe that humans are so idiotic. Don’t they realize that we’ve been spying on them this whole time? Human kids and ‘millennials’ were right. The birds are spies. But not for the government. Though technically, some of us are in the government so they do work for the government. But no, the birds aren’t the government’s spies. They’re ours. The birds work not for the bourgeoisie, but for the demons. We’ve been collecting information about them for centuries. And today, we finally use that information against them.

Soon enough, Mom comes back into the room, a plate of dinosaur chicken nuggets on a plate. I happily accept them, thinking to myself that I’ll miss dino nuggets when the world ends. I look out the window as I eat, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before I get the call.

“So, sweetie,” Mom begins, “do you want to go to the park once you finish your lunch?” She asks this almost daily, with me almost always telling her no, not wanting to get too attached to her emotionally.

I wait a moment before answering, needing to swallow the food in my mouth before speaking. “Sounds fun,” I start, nodding in response. “It’s beautiful out today and I can pick some flowers!” The excitement in my voice isn’t faked. I genuinely feel excited, knowing that this will be my last chance to pick flowers with Mom. I also know that walks in the park are fun and I think being somewhere Mom enjoys will make it easier to remember her in a good way after I say goodbye. She smiles, happy to hear me excited about the park.

“I’m so glad, sweetie! Okay, hurry and finish your food and we can get going.” Mom’s tone is happy while I finish eating. Once I finish, I grab a light jacket and put on my shoes, ready to go to the park. While Mom and I walk to the park, I listen to the birds chirping as they communicate what they see to those on the receiving end of the information. A bird flies to land on the ground in front of me, chirping as it attempts to communicate. I manage to gather that the walk I’m on with Mom is my last one and that everything may end before we head home. Since I was walking a little ahead of Mom, I doubt she saw the exchange, though she might’ve seen the bird flying away.

Eventually, we get to the park and I head straight towards the flowers. I may not want to admit it, but I don’t want spring to end. Over the past few months, I’ve really grown to like it. Spring really is gorgeous. There’s nothing like it in the underworld or on any other plane of existence. The flowers in the field are gorgeous as always. I quickly spot some allium, bleeding heart plants, columbine, lilacs, and primroses around the field. Any time I come to this park, I come directly to the flowers. I know this is probably my last chance to see them, so I stand there for a few minutes taking it all in. The early afternoon sun shines on some of the bleeding hearts, one of my favorites, and I smile. For a moment I start to regret what is about to be done, though I know it’s important.

“They’re mesmerizing, aren’t they?” Mom’s voice startles me from my thoughts, making me jump slightly.

“Yeah. Looking at flowers really makes me think.” My voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the peaceful air around Mom and I. We’re the only ones at the park, making it quiet.

“How so?” Mom’s tone is curious but gentle, wanting me to elaborate only if I feel comfortable doing so.

“Well, it makes me realize just how fragile the human life is. And how flowers can be an amazing metaphor for life.” I pause, gathering my thoughts before I continue. “Like, flowers will bloom for a certain amount of time each year then stop. Like how humans will live for so long before they die of natural causes.” I look up at Mom, making eye contact and silently asking if she understood what I was saying. She nods so I continue my explanation. “If you cut a flower, it won’t stay alive. You can cut a flower just after it blooms and it will eventually die, not getting the nutrients it needs. Like flowers, there are many ways to end a human life prematurely. There are some illnesses that can make this happen, things like cancer, but it can be caused by other humans too. Some flowers bloom longer than others, just like some humans live longer than others.” I take a quick pause to breathe, realizing I’m ranting. At this point, mom looks concerned. I make eye contact with a bird in a tree nearby before I go back to speaking. “Another thing that humans and flowers have in common is that they need each other. Humans need flowers because the flowers produce oxygen and are pretty while flowers need humans to water them and produce carbon dioxide for them.” When I take a moment to think about what I’m saying, Mom quickly speaks up.

“Why are you talking like you aren’t human, Nix?” I laugh, shocked by her question.

“That’s because I’m not human, Mom. I’m not your precious ‘Nix’. I’ve been lying to you for the past few months. I’m not your daughter. Your daughter, your real daughter is gone. I’m not her. I never have been and never will be. I’m an impostor. And I’m a demon. I don’t really look like your daughter. I didn’t want you to find out like this, but it’s too late now.” My tone is sad. I really didn’t want her to find out like this. I didn’t want her to find out at all but it’s too late for that. “The world will end today. At least, your world will. Any minute now, it’ll happen. I can’t stop it. Spring will end. The world itself will end. The world as you know it will and there’s nothing I can do to save it.”

“Sweetie, this isn’t funny. You know not to joke about that.” This was the most serious I’d ever heard Mom sound when she said something. She looks almost scared of the implication of my words, like she doesn’t want to believe the world would be ending soon.

“I wouldn’t joke about the end of the world.” Before I could add anything to my statement, the world seems to take on a red tint. “It has begun.” Mom looked confused for a minute before the heat began. The flowers in front of us wilted almost instantly as did the grass. Some of the trees lost their leaves before falling to the ground.

“What’s going on? What’s causing this?” Mom asks both questions immediately, not giving me a chance to respond to either.

“I already told you. The world as you know it is ending.” My tone is matter-of-fact and almost tired sounding as I try to hide the sadness I feel. “And the cause is a ‘who’, not a what. Demons are causing this.” Screams can be heard all around us as we watch the now dead plants catch fire. I turn and walk away, not wanting to watch the woman I’d grown to see as a mom burning behind me.The fires were hot enough to melt my disguise and show my true form. I felt bad for Mom, though I didn’t know why, as I walked towards some flames that were an entrance to the underworld.

After eighteen years, one may think I forgot how everything went down or changed the story mentally. In reality, I wrote these events down so I wouldn’t forget them. I put as much detail as I could into the events. It’s amazing how far I’ve come in this life. It’s also amazing that the last day of spring began like any other spring day. It didn’t end like any other spring day, but it started like one. Most were anticipating the arrival of summer the following day. If only they would have known that the world would change forever that day.

~~Eighteen Years Later (Modern Day)~~

#poem #writing #my writing #creative writing #stories #silence naomi

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milleralexanderauthor · 4 years

Text

Let’s talk about cartography and how it can be useful to you as a writer.

Cartography is the process of map-making. You may have picked up a book in the past and noticed a map in the first few pages, ala Tolkien or Le Guin.

These reference images help the reader get a better image of the layout and scope of the world of a novel. We’re not gonna talk about that today. What I want to talk about is how cartography can help you, the author, develop an in-depth world.

First of all, under what circumstances should you spend your time on this? If you’re writing, say, a contemporary novel set in New Jersy, you probably don’t have to worry about this. The genres that benefit from this type of planning are:

-Science Fiction

-Fantasy

There are probably exceptions to this rule, but these two genres require a certain amount of worldbuilding. Worldbuilding is the process in which you develop the system, rules, and landscape your novel takes place in. In some instances, a novel may fall into these two genres but be set in a familiar setting. The landscape in these instances is still something I think you should give some degree of thought to. Consider how the landscape has changed or will change based on the parameters of your story.

An example of this is Panem from The Hunger Games.

Panem exists in a dystopian world in which the country of the United States has not only been divided, but rising sea levels have changed the coastline. This is an example of a familiar landscape that has changed because of the events of a novel or the rules of the world in which it exists. Even if you’re not starting a world from scratch, take into consideration what might alter your world.

Let’s say you are writing a novel set in a different world. Do you need to make a map?

Of course, you don’t NEED to do anything. I’m not your dad, I can’t tell you what to do. Do I think it’s incredibly helpful? YES.

Why? It will give you the same benefits it will give a reader. A more in-depth layout of the world you’re creating.

If your characters are staying in the same place throughout the duration of the book, maybe creating a full map of the entire planet isn’t necessary. But maybe making a map of the city could help you. What does you’re city look like? What is the architecture like? What is the economy of your city like? What in the landscape influences that?

If your characters are going on a Tolkien level journey across your world, you probably need to consider the landscape. Mapping is a good visual way of doing this. It’s also really fun, in my opinion.

“But Miller,” you may be saying. “Why would I go to all that effort if my characters don’t even go to most of these places?”

That’s worldbuilding for you. You will come up with a TON of details over this process that will never make it into your novel. However, the more detail YOU have in your brain, the more detailed your world will feel.

“Okay, sure.” I hear you say. “But I’m a terrible artist!”

Me too. I’m not saying that the draft of the map you make has to be in your book. In fact, I encourage against that. If you think a visual aid will help your reader gain something or would just be a fun perk, you can refine it or hire a professional cartographer (yes, they exist) when your book is closer to publication. If you’re at that point, I’m not talking to you. I’m encouraging map making as a world building exercise to those of you who are trying to flesh out your worlds before you even commit anything to page.

It can be an intimidating task, creating a whole world from scratch. I’m happy to tell you that it doesn’t have to be hard.

The first step is to consider the scope of your map. Like I said, only create what you feel you may use. Does your character never leave their home town? Do a map of the town? Does the country your story takes place in come into play during your book? Do a map of the country. Does your character make a grand journey across the world? Make the world. My RECOMMENDATION is to make at least the country your novel takes place in. You probably won’t use every location, but less is not always more.

Then, consider the context. Are cities in your world trade centers? What are their major imports and exports? What type of climate does your world have? What is the political climate like? Are there physical boundaries that cut one part of your world off from another? These are things to keep in mind before you start making your map because the landscape of a world could have a profound impact on the daily lives of its residents.

Next, we need to outline. I find countries or continents to be the easiest to do, and you’ll probably see why. Coastlines are honestly really easy to do. This is probably the part you’re freaking out about but worry not. There are some easy methods to get natural-looking coastlines and borders.

A prefer traditional paper and pencil art, so we’ll start with that. By all means, if you just wanna go crazy and come up with something all on your own, I won’t stop you. However, some of you may be intimidated by the idea of just DRAWING A WHOLE COUNTRY FROM NOTHING. There are a couple of things you can do if this is you.

Look at some reference pictures.

Look at an atlas or a globe. Find borders and coastlines that look cool or fit into some of the ideas for your world and copy ‘em. To some people, this doesn’t feel “creative”. Someone will always look at your map and tell you that it looks like Russia or Italy, so don’t stress too much about it.

BEANS.

This will sound weird, but a tried and true method to get nice looking coastlines is to just dump a few handfuls of dry beans or rice onto a piece of paper and move them around until you like the look of it. Then you trace out the masses of beans until you got yourself a country, huzzah!

If you’re working in photoshop, a method I’ve seen used is to import a few images of different countries into it and move and transform them around until you you have a brand new landmass you like, then trace around that.

Next, we need to fill the world with stuff. This sounds simple, but keep in mind that things don’t happen in a vacuum.

If you’re building a forest or farmland, consider where a water source would be.

If you’re adding a lake or rivers, consider how it would flow to the ocean with the force of gravity, starting in mountain ranges.

If you have mountains, consider how shifting tectonic plates would form them. You have to at least know the rules before you can break them. Your world has to make some type of sense and, if it doesn’t, you need to explain why.

Take a look at the styles of maps to get an idea of how to indicate this on your map. Some maps take a very simplified approach to denoting landmarks, some are very complex. It’s up to you.

Once you know where your forests, mountains, and lakes will be, you can place your cities.

Your cities should be placed in locations on your map that make sense. Is your city’s major export fish? Put it by the ocean. Is the climate cold? Put it at a higher elevation. Is your city isolated? What type of physical barriers could illustrate this?

If you didn’t take any of these things into consideration before this exercise, you have now. Let’s say you have a protagonist who needs to get from one town to another, but you need to spice up the journey a little. You made this map, you look at it, there’s a river in between the towns. BOOM! Now your protagonist needs to cross a rushing icy river. Mini conflict, a setback. All because you considered the landscape of your environment.

Obviously, this works on a lot of different scales. How long will it take your protagonist to get from point a to point b? What stands in their way? How do the features of the landscape impact the world as a whole? Now you know.

Finally, slap some labels on that bad boy.

If your working on paper, it’s a good idea to do this ALL in pencil first and leave some space for labels. This will make referencing where things are and what they’re called easier. Get creative with it, use crazy fonts. It just needs to be LEGIBLE for your own sanity. Trust me.

Honestly, doing this at some point in the worldbuilding process has done worlds of good for me. It really gets your creative juices flowing and it’s just another step to a well-rounded world. You can skip it if you’re not a visual person, but I definitely am and I’m sure some of you are, too.

I just want to reiterate, this is for YOUR benefit only. No one else has to see it, its reference for you. However, if you want to add a map into your published works, consider talking to a professional artist/cartographer unless you, like, are one. Then I’m not sure why you read this much of my post.

Thanks for reading! I post a wide variety of content on my blog every Friday including writing advice and book updates. Stop by and say hi!

-Miller

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eddycurrents · 5 years

Photo

When Jonathan Hickman was guiding the Avengers franchise, he was writing two titles that roughly played off of one another in Avengers and New Avengers, focusing on the main Avengers team and then the Illuminati offshoot. Hickman’s previous Fantastic Four and FF runs fed into some of the ideas on the titles, as well as the relatively concurrent SHIELD series fuelling some of the broader ideas.

With his open salvo into the X-Men, Hickman is doing something similar, but different, in the interplay between House of X and Powers of X. Without spoiling anything here, I can say that it’s integral to read the two series together. Though they deal with different smaller narratives, there’s a large overlap in bigger themes, characters, and at least one shared plotline. I think it’s almost best at this point to think of the two series as alternating chapters in the same book. Whether or not they converge overall in the end remains to be seen.

Like House of X #1, Powers of X #1 deals with a number of common themes and plot elements to the X-Men franchise, but gives them a different spin. It plays with some of the core ideas that we’ve seen for decades, gives them a bit of a hard science fiction sheen, and careens off in new directions. Arguably this one is weirder, but that goes into spoiler territory that I’ll discuss below. Hickman is planting some interesting seeds here and I’m curious to see how they grow.

RB Silva, Adriano Di Benedetto, and Marte Gracia step up to the challenge laid down by Pepe Larraz in House of X to provide an engrossing, beautiful visual landscape for this new era, pulling it off in spades. It’s tied together as well through the consistency of design from Clayton Cowles lettering and the text pages designed by Hickman and Tom Muller. Interesting infographics and continued use of the Krakoan language abound.

This is an intriguing next step.

As before, there will be spoilers below this image. If you do not want to be spoiled on Powers of X #1, do not read further.

SPOILER WARNING: Below I’ll be discussing the events, themes, and possibility of what’s going on in Powers of X #1 and beyond. There are HEAVY SPOILERS beyond this point. If you haven’t read the issue yet and don’t want to be spoiled, please stop reading now. You’ve been warned.

PREAMBLE | First Impressions

I was highly impressed by House of X #1.

It surpassed my hopes for what would come from a fresh new start for the X-Men and by far exceeded my expectations. Though it played with long established themes and ideas present throughout the franchise, it felt like something fresh and new, incorporating a science fiction approach to the story and pushing the characters into a new direction. Due to House of X easily delivering on its promise, expectations were raised for Powers of X #1.

I’m happy to say that they too were met. This isn’t an ancillary book featuring also-rans that supplement a “main” story in House of X, but an equally important facet of the broader narrative that this new initiative is trying to tell. It continues part of the story from House of X and then goes deeper on a tapestry across time of the plight of Marvel’s mighty mutants. If anything, House of X is the adjunct to Powers of X, rather than the other way around.

Where House of X feels consistent to Jonathan Hickman’s previous approaches to storytelling within the Marvel Universe, Powers of X seems more informed by the freewheeling, limitless imagination of his creator-owned work. I get a similar feel reading Powers of X #1 as I do from reading Transhuman, God is Dead, East of West, and Manhattan Projects. Though it’s still firmly grounded in the Marvel Universe and the X-Men mythos, it goes off in wild directions of eugenics and genocide.

RB Silva and Adrian Di Benedetto provide a similar aesthetic for the line art as Pepe Larraz in House of X, delivering a style that seems influenced by Stuart Immonen, and it continues to be a great look to define this era of the X-Men. The clean-lined style provides a kind of slickness to the art, making the cities of Nimrod and humanity feel cold, perfectly fitting an era seemingly run by machines. The designs for Nimrod, Rasputin, Black Tom, the Hunters, and the multi-headed Sentinel are wonderful.

One of the standout stars of the creative team shines again here with Marte Gracia’s colours. They’re rich and varied, changing primary colour schemes for each time period to keep things unique and visually interesting, and overall just stunning. The colour approach in the present to the flora of Krakoa is incredibly lush.

Bringing it all together again is the lettering and design from Clayton Cowles and Tom Muller respectively. I like the continued use of mixed case to keep it consistent with House of X, along with a nice approach to the word balloons for Nimrod. The text pieces continue to enhance and enrich the overall story and make it feel distinctly like a Hickman-penned comic.

This continues to be one of the best beginnings to a new era of the X-Men.

ONE | Time

Since the announcement of the two series, there’s been speculation about the title for this one since Powers of X is meant to be read as “Powers of Ten”. When House of X #1 was released last week, there was an idea postulated that it was in reference to exponential mutant batches birthed in the Krakoa pods or beyond. While that could still another reason, it feels like its framework is more the time periods that this book takes place in.

We’re given four primary time periods in X0, X1, X2, and X3, following the powers of ten scale of 1, 10, 100, and 1000. X0 represents the past, a time when Xavier was just dreaming his dream of a mutant paradise.

X1 is Year 10 and represents the present in House of X #1. It’s somewhat interesting to see the X-Men back on a ten-year scale from what appears shortly before the original five to the current time. The original five operating in the 2000s is just a weird prospect.

X2 is 100 years from day one, with a war between the few remaining mutants and the “Man-Machine Supremacy” occurring. This appears to be one of the primary periods that we’re going to be seeing action and new characters set in the Powers of X series. It may be from here that we see the prima facie forces informing this narrative.

X3 is 1000 years since the dawning of Xavier’s dream. It’s arguably the weirdest as well, following the fall of mankind.

There’s also a hint right off the bat that there’s something wrong. Wrong with time, possibly, or maybe just wrong with Xavier. While Charles is enjoying a day at the fair, he’s approached by Moira MacTaggert. Who he doesn’t know. That’s ominous for a number of reasons, since a large part of Charles’ youth was spent with Moira at Oxford University and she was his fiancé for a time. It makes you wonder if someone’s messed with Charles’ memories, or if maybe something or someone is messing with the timeline.

For the latter, other than growing new mutants, this could also be one of the reasons why we’re seeing characters who should be dead back up and alive in House of X #1. It might also be why time overall seems to be such an important element in this story.

The nature of the text pieces, the file names and numbers, and the importance of it in the X1 period (and what looks like possibly a similar quest in the X2 period), it kind of makes me wonder if Moira is a time traveller herself. It’s possible that X0 is before Charles met her at university and therefore doesn’t know her at this point in time, but I think that compresses the timeline of events even further than we’re already squashing the periods between X0 and X1.

In X2 there’s also a curious exchange as Xavier receives the data procured by Sabretooth, Mystique, and Toad in House of X #1. I’m not sure if the confusion was intentional as a hint that something else was going on, or if we were meant to infer that Magneto was manipulating the drive to get it to Xavier, but it at least appears that Xavier is using telekinesis. Xavier doesn’t have telekinesis as a power.

It makes you wonder if something has changed with Charles, giving him new expanded powers, or reinforcing that maybe this isn’t even Charles. With the people being grown in pods and the rise of composite mutants in the future, it makes me wonder if the eugenics tests started even soon. Not to mention that we still haven’t seen Xavier’s face in the present.

TWO | Space?

In X2, we’re given kind of a bleak outlook for how many mutants are left remaining in the 22nd century. Roughly 10,000 mutants living in the Shi’ar Empire and 8 mutants living on Earth. Yeah, that’s a small population. It kind of boggles the mind as to what’s going on between the mutants and machines on Earth since that’s barely a resistance.

There are some interesting questions raised here about the first wave of “Dawn of X” once House of X and Powers of X are over. This seems to be more of an idea seed for what’s coming next, especially with the previews for New Mutants and Excalibur that seem to be sending various X-teams into space again. Even the forthcoming X-Men series looks like it might have ties to intergalactic derring-do.

There’s also a mention of Empress Xandra that’s sure to perk up some ears. Xandra was introduced by Kelly Thompson and Oscar Bazaldua in Mr. & Mrs. X and is supposedly the daughter of Charles Xavier and Lilandra Neramani.

THREE | Days of Future Tenses Yet to Come

What’s a horrible mutant future without a Days of Future Past framework? The X2 period uses familiar elements from many of the dystopian futures that we’ve seen over the years in X-Men comics.

There are elements here from many alternate futures including traditional Sentinels, Nimrod, hounds, and such, but it somehow feels fresh. Although it’s a bleak, dystopian world where practically every mutant is dead, there’s still a small thread of hope. Given what we see later that hope is probably futile, but you wonder where this is heading.

There is so much world and character-building that feeds into the construction of the X2 period, including the new elements of Krakoa that were introduced in House of X #1, that it feels like framing this simply as another alternate future that’s going to be worked out and fixed by the end of the series is a little naïve.

It could be a vehicle for introducing Rasputin into the world, a Chimera mutant based on the DNA of Kitty Pryde, Piotr Rasputin (with the possibility of some Illyana in there too, since she’s got a soulsword, but it may be that just one of their genetic stock can yield both mutant powers. Though the soulsword is magic not mutant), Gunther Bain, Laura Kinney, and Quentin Quire. And we could well see her transplanted elsewhere when “Dawn of X” begins.

The hunters are kind of neat. We see a couple of them with their masks off and they seem normal, but who’s to tell. They might be human, they might be machine, they might be both, we’re still unsure as to what the deeper state of humanity happens to be in this time period. Much of the early landscape we see in the Nexus is battleground, full of destruction and debris, but the area around Nimrod’s tower looks to be a built up futuristic city. Who lives there? Or maybe what lives there?

I also quite like the design of the hunters. They remind me of the Hellfire Club soldiers’ design (and by extension some of the Reavers) with a few tweaks to make them more fit Nimrod’s design and the singular lens to make their asymmetry feel a little creepy. I’m curious if we’re supposed to think that these hunters are the new Reavers, or if maybe there’s some connection to some form of the Hellfire Club.

Now, Omega seems to be Nimrod’s superior. He defers to her and seems to get her blessing in order to enact his archival experiment from her. We don’t know if she’s still Karima Shapandar, but it seems like she might be, the only difference is that she’s now red. Bigotry also appears to have become a more apparent part of her personality, using one of the common dismissive phrases of “you people” when dealing with Clyobel.

You have to wonder what happened to her prior to her reactivation in House of X #1 that has changed her so dramatically from her time with the X-Men. And what shaped and honed that hatred even further into the future.

FOUR | Flawed Design

There’s a kind of nihilism that’s baked into the story. It comes with the territory of a horrible future for Marvel’s mighty mutants, but it extends to some of the characters and situations throughout this issue as the world-building informs us of what’s going on in the X2 period and of what led to parts of the current situation. It seems like failure is going to be a theme for Powers of X, failure of the dream, failure of systems, failure of communication and trust, failure of legacy. It would seem depressing, but it’s endlessly fascinating the way that it’s presented.

For starters, handing over any kind of breeding programme for the continued survival of mutants over to Sinister is insane. Even with mutant leadership apparently missing when it happened, it’s still insane. Sinister is a self-serving mad scientist, so it’s no wonder that it blew up in everyone’s faces. It also makes you wonder what other schemes he had in mind, and whether or not his “execution” actually took. I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw him, and another generation of his own personal mutants, before the story runs its course. He always seems to have a back-up plan, not to mention another cloned body just ready to be activated.

Giving up and defecting to the Man-Machine Supremacy after deliberately sabotaging the fourth generation of his breeding pits to destroy Mars feels a little too simple for Sinister.

But that flaw isn’t limited to Sinister. We see it in the Man-Machine Supremacy’s breeding programme too at the Khennil (referred to in the text piece as the Man-Machine Ascendancy). Obsolete and ill-considered eugenics seems to be part of man’s purview as well in how it created the original hounds (presumably the ones we know and love like Rachel Summers) and then the subsequent “black brains”.

There’s also a theme of betrayal throughout. In that it’s part of the genetic make-up of the Khennil hounds, that it was part of Sinister’s plan with his fourth generation brood, and there’s the suggestion that mutant leaders were “disappeared” through betrayal.

The final, and ultimately fatal, flaw comes in the future with the failure of Nimrod’s experiment started in the X2 period brought forward to the end in X3’s Mutant Library. This one’s likely not purposeful, rather degradation of systems through age, but it’s the one that leads to the end of mankind and the mutant race with the idea that it’s not possible to bring them back.

Though, I wouldn’t be surprised that this is the problem that this series is trying to fix.

FIVE | The Four Horsemen

One of the interesting things I found among the X2 time period was who survives. Among the 8 who are still living, you’ve got representatives of Sinister’s breeding programme, from a standard composite in Rasputin to an outlier priest class in Cardinal, but then you’ve got a group of four. I find it particularly interesting that they’re introduced in the form of a group of four because it gives certain connotations.

The four aren’t named in the story, but they look like Magneto, Wolverine, Black Tom, and Zorn (the Ultimate Universe brother to Xorn that Hickman and Rafa Sandoval created in Ultimate Comics: Hawkeye). I mean, it’s entirely possible that these four are more composites or clones grown by Sinister or someone else, especially since it’s 90 years from “now” and they all seem relatively well put together, but these are four characters that arguably have a tenacity for longevity. Hell, Black Tom can pretty much regrow himself like Swamp Thing.

But back to the four. It gives another possible reason as to why these existing characters are still alive in the future. They could be new representatives of the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse.

I mean, there’s a number of people that Wolverine could be mentioning as the “Old Man”. It could be Xavier. Could be someone else. But like Black Tom, we’ve been seeing Apocalypse popping up again in numerous covers and solicitations (after all he’s on the cover for House of X #2 at that).

It also potentially ties into all of the religious symbolism and meta-narrative that Hickman has been seeding throughout House of X and Powers of X so far. From Xavier creating a new Adam and Eve beneath a Tree of Life, Magneto emphasizing the coming of new gods in Jerusalem, the possibility of Krakoa creating all sorts of plant golems, Nimrod’s tower, and now the end times as portrayed in the book of Revelation.

Also, one of the file names for the text pieces includes “(APOC_build)”.

SIX | The Garden

The end to Powers of X #1 has an interesting parallel to the beginning of House of X #1. Where the latter had Xavier seemingly hatching his Adam & Eve out of the Krakoa pods, in X3, following the seeming collapse of mankind, there’s a place called “The Preserve” where the Librarian references some kept around similar to dinosaur bones in a museum.

There are some oddities, though, as when mining Nimrod’s database, the Librarian seems to be searching for personalities, sad to find that they’ve degraded. It makes you wonder if the Preserve is a place to house relics, or if maybe they’re trying to breed a new race of mutants. Also, who or what the Librarian represents at this point is anyone’s guess.

SEVEN | A Drawing of Three

In the opening sequence between Moira and Charles, there’s another interesting thing as Moira recounts briefly that she had a fortune-telling. From that we draw a traditional three card spread. There’s a number of ways that you can read them, but two are most prevalent. In the first reading, card 1 is the past, 2 is the present, and 3 is the future. In the other, card 1 represents the context of the question being asked, card 2 represents what the person asking should focus on to affect or change the situation, and card 3 represents the potential outcome. (Now, I know there are countless other ways to read the cards, including card 2 representing the querent and the other two influencing it, but we’d be here all day if I broke down all possible interpretations to just read the spread.)

Given that it is a timeline question, though, in a story about time, I think it’s interesting that all three cards pulled are interpreted through the future of the X2 time period and the characters there. (Also somewhat odd in that all three are Major Arcana.) And it that, it makes it even stranger as a timeline question that would normally take a past, present, future reading.

I personally tend to use Aleister Crowley and Lady Frieda Harris’ Thoth Tarot when I do personal readings, including Crowley’s book on further meanings and connections, as well as Lon Milo DuQuette’s commentary and analysis in the beautiful Understanding the Thoth Tarot, so my frame of reference is probably different given the celestial twist and changes made (along with tons of attributions and connections according to Hermetic Kabbalah). I’m also a large proponent of people only doing readings for themselves, bringing their own interpretations and influences to the reading and their understanding of the symbolism, connections, and such. So, if you disagree with anything I write here, feel free to throw it out and do your own work.

Anyway, the drawing of The Magician as the past, as represented by Rasputin is interesting. Especially in Hickman’s statement of “one foot in two worlds”. This could be representative of two things, the past (as in she’s a composite of different mutants from the past) and the future, or it could be referring to her soulsword and the fact that she represents a magical world and a mundane world. It could be reading Rasputin as simple as a literal magician. The Magician card itself typically represents communication, wisdom, craft, and skill. As representing the past, it could be interpreted as that the previous timeframes were where all of the skill, determination, and communication came from. That all of that X-magic is behind them.

The card for the present is The Tower, as represented by Nimrod’s tower. Hickman incorporates some of the symbolism of the biblical tower of Nimrod, the Tower of Babel, here in a symbol of “collapse and rebirth”. The Tower card, often also referred to as the Blasted Tower (depending on your perspective on the Tree), often represents combat, strife, ruin, and a destruction of plans. It certainly makes sense for the present of the X2 time period as it’s rife with conflict caused by the war between the few remaining mutants and the Man-Machine Supremacy.

The final drawing for the future is The Devil, as represented by Cardinal (I still want to call him Redcrawler). Like Rasputin, this could simply be down to the character correlations (in that the Nightcrawler genetic stock that Cardinal draws upon is descended from that “demon” mutant offshoot). The card itself is often read to represent blind impulse, unscrupulousness, temptation, and obsession. All of that seems at odds with the Cardinal character that we see in Powers of X #1, so it’s kind of hard to gauge. If it represents the future, it could be that some sort of recklessness on the part of the few remaining mutants leads to a complete collapse (as we seem to see in the X3 period). Or maybe our priest isn’t necessarily what he seems.

At its most basic, the spread seems to be telling us what we can discern from the comic itself, of a period of a kind of golden age, followed by a collapse and a period of strife, before temptation possibly leading everything astray, but part of me thinks that’s too simple. I haven’t gone into attributions, and whether or not the presence of the cards together are well or ill aspected, so there might be something there that sheds a different light.

Or Hickman could have an entirely different meaning behind any of this.

CONCLUSION | All the Small Things

Between the first issues of House of X and Powers of X, I’m impressed by their depth. It could well be a case of overthinking and over-analyzing the story, the text, and the imagery, of reading too much into the ideas, but this work from Hickman, Silva, Di Benedetto, Gracia, Cowles, and Muller lends itself to be scrutinized.

It can be enjoyed, very much so, on a surface level as a great science fiction adventure story, and absolutely should be. It’s entertaining fiction as a groundwork, but that it can be studied for clues and other meanings can be a large part of the fun of a work like this. It gets imaginations running wild trying to see how or if the pieces fit, almost like a puzzle or a treasure hunt.

Powers of X #1 leads us further down a rabbit hole that this new era of the X-Men is taking us down and it’s an exciting ride so far.

d. emerson eddy thinks he thinks too much some times.

#Examinations #X-Men #Powers of X #1 #Jonathan Hickman #RB Silva

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ginnyzero · 5 years

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Crafting a Believable Setting

World building. The setting, the place where the story takes place can be just as influential for the mood and tone of your story as the conflict, characters and plot. There are a lot of other blogs with advice and tips and lists and questions enough to make your eyes glaze over. I'm covering the very tip of the iceberg here.

Becca and I have been doing a lot of world building lately for a project we're working on together. In fact, we're so excited about it, we're talking about creating a blog just give newsy/chatty updates about said project. And a huge part of that blog is going to be about the setting of our imaginary world. It means I've been thinking about it a little bit.

The first thing when you're discussing building a world is to decide your genre of story. The type of story is going to set the framework for how the world works (to a certain extent.) A historical romance, a fantasy, a dystopian speculative fiction and science fiction are all going to play with different rules. The genre is going to partially influence the technology of your story, the government, and the visual appearance.

For example, in the Lone Prospect, I decided that I wanted my story to be a science fantasy. The fantasy aspect of my story is the inclusion of werewolves. I use "science" to determine how werewolves change using the ever popular "it's a virus" trope. (Actually, the first werewolf movie was a science gone wrong movie and not a magical curse. The more you know.) And it's partially post apocalyptic, because it is set in the future after there was a huge war and the entire landscape of the world has changed. And it's has science fiction style technology, floating cars and transports that don't rely on propeller engine. There are 'tractor' beams and anti-gravity fields and computers that fit in your ear and project holographically from a pair of glasses in front of you. All of this was determined by the genre, science fantasy.

Whereas, in the Dawn Warrior, I chose to make it a pure fantasy story. The world is a medieval type world with dragons, fairies, and magic and lots of forests. So when it came to trying to define the setting, it wasn't nearly as complicated as the Lone Prospect's world.

The second thing I try to do is only define enough of the setting as the story needs. I love a complicated world as much as the next person. (See Star Wars and Lord of the Rings.) However, I'm writing a book. I'm not making a movie! (Though I'd love a movie of Heathens, that would be hysterical.) There comes a point where I know I'm writing soft science fantasy (or in the Dawn Warrior's case, low fantasy) and I don't have the room or the words for pages and pages of scenery porn. I don't need to know the complicated levels of government or the entire map or what everything looks like because it's not important to the story. I'm not going to be using that information right this minute. There comes a point where you have to stop poking at the world and write the book. If you know what the setting looks like for what you're working on at that moment, stop and get writing.

(Though for the Heathens universe, I'll admit I do know a lot about the setting, because I'm using a teaspoon to empty out a lake in the amount of stories I want to write for it. Let us hope I don't burn out on werewolves making explosions.)

In some cases, the next thing I try to do is define the visual aesthetic of the story. In the Lone Prospect, I knew that I wanted Jasper to bring back memories of the old wild west/small town turn of the 20th century America. Brick buildings that aren't more than four stories high, covered sidewalks, lots of trees and statues in the town square. Little mom and pop shops and restaurants, chain boutiques hidden with hokey wooden signs. I wanted it to feel familiar to readers now and to feel safe. That Jasper is a haven from the craziness of the post apocalyptic world. It's even set in a valley surrounded by 'hills.' But because of this, Jasper is also as much of a cage and prison as it is a place to be safe. It's easy to get comfortable there and ignore the troubles of the outside world. It's not easy to escape and can be put under siege.

Jasper also contrasts with Rapid City, a place with steel and glass skyscrapers and the City, which as even larger buildings and multiple levels of traffic. I wanted to merge the idea of the Core Words on Firefly, the cities in Dredd and to some extent Coruscant from Star Wars.

The visual look of your world and the way you describe it, whether it's clean or dingy or rusted or gleaming can give the reader in a few short words how they should feel about this place you're dropping them into. Should they feel comfortable or edgy or uneasy.

I am not afraid of using real places to base my settings on. We've got a huge world and there are so many beautiful places in it. By using real places with photographs and visits for reference, you can make the setting of your world feel that more tangible and realistic to your reader. And if your setting is in modern or contemporary times, or even to some extent the past, you can use details of the city and it's history, reputation, interesting facts to add spice to your story.

I chose South Dakota for the setting of the Lone Prospect because I've been there. I've seen lightning walking over the golden plains that are dotted with herds of buffalo. I've been to the badlands. I've seen the Black Hills. I have pictures of it. I have emotional memories associated with the area. I know a bit of the history. I try to use that to make my story better.

Then I try to define my tech. Is it science fiction and may I have lasers and tractor beams and guns that set to stun? Or is it fantasy and I have cross bows and ballista and swords for weapons. If it's a historical setting, what era is it in? When did they get gas in that area or electric? What types of things would they use to wash clothes or bake bread? Did they ride horses or where there the bicycles and automobiles? These will add more interesting details to your story. And depending on how 'hard' your science fiction is, (are you Star Wars/Star Trek or are you Asimov?) will determine how much you have to go into how your faster than light or warp drive engine works. (There is a reason I write soft science fiction.)

When I wrote the Lone Prospect, I borrowed from everywhere I could think of to create my world. Taking things that I hoped were coming in the near future and mixing it with things I'd seen in movies and read in other books to try and make a level of technology that felt simultaneously futuristic and realistic to my post apocalyptic setting. My biggest sticking point with making my technology was say, if I got a television show or a movie, could it be done on a lower budget scale.

With the Dawn Warrior on the other hand, it was a pure low fantasy novel without any major battle scenes that would require me to trot out the big medieval weapons. And since Roxana buys her bread already baked, I didn't really need to think too much about technology. (Though I know a bit about medieval technology.)

Lastly, at least for this world building post, I tend to think about the government. Granted, I don't write dystopian stories. If you write dystopian fiction then the government and how it affects the culture will probably be the first thing you think about, see the Hunger Games, Divergent, or the Handmaiden's Tale for examples. However, I don't write that type of fiction and I need to know what type of government I have in a general sense to know how it's going to affect my characters. Is it a monarchy? Is there a king? Is it a republic or a democracy? Will there be voting? Who can vote? What types of laws are there that my characters may or may not be breaking?

Another instance where knowing about the government is handy is if the story revolves around the government and politics itself. (This is where the prequels of Star Wars went wrong. The story was about politics and the fall of the Republic and we were off watching pod races.) Who are the movers and shakers in the system? What are the political alliances and how are they shown? There are a lot of both political power maneuvering and personal stories and conflicts that can be written if the story revolves around the people in power and the government. Honor Harrington is a good example of how a story can be written around politics.

This is a good general start to building a setting for your story. After this it is thinking about culture and putting in characters. (Culture is probably a post to itself!) I think the most important thing to remember is to only flesh out as much of the setting as you need to write the book. The book isn't going to write itself!

#wrtblr #writblr #writing tips #writing advice #writing settings #settings #world building #writing world building

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nctsolar-remade · 6 years

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Just A Dream – Episode 1: Dream Lab

Description: “Where is… Here?” “A dream.” “What?” I stopped dead in my tracks. “We’re trapped in a dream.” “You’re crazy…” “Look… Believe me or don’t believe me, I’m telling you the truth. We’re trapped inside someone else’s dream.”

Part: Ep.1 Dream Lab Pairing: None Genre: Horror, Mystery, Dystopian Word Count: 15.056 Warnings: Blood, death, decaying bodies Requested: No Song Recommendation: Control (Instrumental) – Halsey A/N: Ah, so here we are. Literally, 5 months later. This is a weird idea that I had after watching the NCTmentary videos that they put out. Honestly, what shady dudes. To be honest, it didn’t really take 5 months to write but I’m literally an expert at procrastination so… But, I have been really excited about writing this AU. I didn’t really expect it to get this long or detailed, and like not to toot my own horn, but this truly is the best piece of fiction I’ve ever written. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and anticipate (the very slow, I’m sure) updates! Anyway, reblogs and likes are always appreciated! Comments too. If you want to let me know what you thought of it, I’d genuinely be over the moon to hear! I really adore having feedback because it helps me be a better writer and it lets me know what’s good and what’s not. So, yeah, definitely let me know how it was and what you liked/didn’t like! Thank you so much for reading this. I hope you enjoy!

Also, special thanks to: Spence (@whiplashlive)!!! Miss Spence really helped me get through this. As you can see, it’s not a short fic, and like I was really disheartened at certain points and I felt like it wasn’t going anywhere but Spence really helped me push through and finish it. Her constant support is honestly the only reason this dumb ass fic is being posted now, rather than even later. So, like, mad thanks Spence! And also thank you to the other’s who proofed this fic for me! You all helped to motivate me as well, so thank you!

The day before the world ended.

That day is still imprinted in my mind, as clear as ever. It will forever be there, haunting me. I can’t remember how long it’s been since then. So much has happened. Too many hours have passed. I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years over and over again.

Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe no time has passed at all. Maybe it just happened. The world has just ended, and I am now here, opening my eyes and wondering where in the world I am. Maybe I am here, again, as I have already been so many damn times. Maybe that’s all this is… Maybe it’s just a dream.

A dream.

The word alone causes a grim smile to cross my features. After all, that’s the whole reason that I’m here right now. That word is the main reason that we have been trapped in this world… In this hell…

Regardless of how long we’ve been here, we are here now. And here, is not a good place. I have to find a way to wake up. I have to save them. I have to-

My eyes fluttered open.

Asleep. I’d fallen asleep. I blinked several times, my eyes itching with tiredness. What had I just dreamt…? The harder I tried to remember it, the further away it slipped. Frustration was starting to grip at the edges of my confused and groggy brain. Before I could really get anymore worked up, I realized that my face was pressed against a desk. I lifted my cheek off the cool plastic and rubbed my eyes, trying to reduce the fuzziness of my vision. I heard someone speaking loud and clear, and it brought my attention to the front of the room. I was in a lecture hall filled with maybe three hundred students. Right… I was in class. I looked over at the seat next to me. The boy beside me noticed that I’d woken up and smiled.

He leaned in, and in a soft voice whispered, “You fell asleep Johnny. I felt too guilty to wake you up. Don’t worry about the note though. He didn’t really talk about anything important, but you can still have mine.”

I nodded, looking back at the front of the room. The prof was now talking about participating in research studies for extra credit. Something that all of us were told to do, as it would help improve our grade. Most of the studies were just regular researching experiences; normal experiments and interviews about a variety of things, like stress or your relationships. However, there were the odd research teams that put together extremely interesting and innovative studies. Those always filled up extremely fast and there were only a few spots for each study.

“Please remember, these studies help, not only you, but the university and the graduate students who are running them. Anyway, make sure to read the next chapter from the textbook for next class, and that should be all the work that you are required to do this week. Have a good evening everyone.”

The classroom immediately filled with life; chairs squeaked, people chattered, and there was a scramble to leave the room quickly. I stood up, looking back at the boy beside me.

“What’s wrong, Johnny?” His eyes shone genuine concern.

“Nothing really.” I shrugged, sliding my laptop into my bag.

“Are you sure? You seem off…” He frowned and halted his own packing.

“Yeah, I’m sure Taeyong. I just had a strange dream.” I smiled at him.

“Oh… I see.”

We tugged our coats on and donning our bags, we left the room.

“It’s still snowing.” I pointed out at the glass walls of the science building.

“Damn, let’s hurry back then. Looks cold.” He shivered a little and sighed.

“Yeah, let me just check the bus times.” I nodded, pulling out my phone and scrolling through the upcoming times. “Seems like there’s one in ten minutes. I think we can make it, if we walk fast enough.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He nodded.

Leaving the building was like entering a totally different world. Inside, it was loud, bustling, and hot. Outside, it was like a wasteland. There was nothing but white. The snow covered every inch of the ground, and it seemed to obliterate all signs of life. Not a single sound could be heard. There was nothing. Our breath turned into pearly-white puffs of air that swirled upwards towards the expansive night sky. It felt so dark and lonely… The silence was what really got to me. It felt like the snow was absorbing all the sounds that you’d normally hear on a university campus.

Taeyong and I walked towards the bus stop, silently. It felt wrong… Talking… Disrupting the silence didn’t feel right. To this day, I’m still not sure why it made me uncomfortable, but it did.

“What was your dream about?” He asked, suddenly.

“Oh… I don’t really know… I tried to remember it but, it kinda just… Slipped away?”

“Oh, I see.” He nodded.

“It wasn’t really anything.” I frowned.

“How do you mean?”

“Like, it just seemed like a voice was talking. I think I saw myself talking… But I was alone, and I wasn’t in a room or anything… Just a big, black expanse.”

“That is odd.”

“And what’s even weirder is that it felt so incredibly… Real…”

“Must’ve been one of those dreams.”

“Yeah… And I think I was just talking… About dreams actually.”

“Inception?” He poked me, laughing.

I couldn’t help myself, I laughed along and nodded. Being around Taeyong was easy. He didn’t expect anything from you, which made it easy to be yourself. Uni was a tough place to be… Everyone expected you to act like an adult even though most of us weren’t really ready for it here. And even though I’d already been here for a few years, Taeyong was my only real friend. We’d met back in our first year when we’d been paired up as roommates. He was seemingly quiet and shy at the time. He kept to himself, avoiding any sort of conversation. I tried to befriend him at the time, but he seemed simply focused on his studies, which I respected. Eventually, he opened up when we finally found some common ground: our similar tastes in music. Now, we were best friends and still roommates.

I was brought out of my nostalgic thoughts as my shoulder made painful contact with someone else. I stumbled backward slightly and reached for my shoulder, wincing in pain. I looked towards the source of the crash, making eye-contact with a boy who seemed extremely flustered.

“I am so sorry.” He gasped, eyes flashing apologetically.

Smiling sheepishly, I shook my head, “Nah, I wasn’t looking where I was going. That was my fault, to be honest.”

“I really wasn’t paying attention to where I was going…” He awkwardly bit his lip and smiled.

“We’re both at fault I guess.” I laughed.

“Johnny, we should hurry…” Taeyong said softly. “Crap, right… Sorry, we should get going.” I scratched the back of my neck and the boy nodded.

“Myself as well. Have a good evening, both of you. And again, I’m sorry.”

“You too. And yeah, sorry.”

We continued walking, I glanced back, wondering if he was still there but… He was gone… I wanted to turn fully and see if he’d actually managed to leave that fast, but Taeyong pulling on my sleeve was enough to keep me going.

“Do you know who that was?” I asked expecting a no.

“Yeah… He’s in my academic writing class.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah…” He frowned a little, “I think he goes by Ten?”

“Ten?”

“Yeah… I think that’s what it was.”

Taeyong pointed at the bus stop, which was now in view. I pulled out my phone, double checking the current time. We still had a few minutes.

“We’ll make it-”

“Johnny, look!”

Taeyong was staring upwards at the sky in awe. I followed his gaze, my eyes widening and mind going blank. The sky above was still pitch black, but there were hundreds of shooting stars trailing across our field of view.

“Johnny, let’s go.”

I shook my head, looking around. Taeyong was a few steps in front of me, looking at me. I looked up, confused. The sky was void of shooting stars, or any stars for that matter. The moon was also missing. All of it was hidden by thick, snow-filled clouds that heavily weighed down on the sky. It left the night sky incredibly dark and quiet… But… Where were the stars? I swear I’d just seen shooting stars.

“T-Taeyong… Were there just…” I trailed off, I didn’t want to sound crazy.

“What?”

“Never mind.” I shook my head, trying to rid my thoughts of what I’d just seen, or, imagined.

It must’ve been my overwhelming sleepiness. We walked up to the stop and I leaned against the lamp post, feeling dizzy with confusion. I scrunched my eyes shut and tried to forget what I had just seen. Was I losing it? Or had that really happened? But there was no way… If Taeyong hadn’t seen it… Then…

I looked up and panic gripped at the bottom of my heart as I couldn’t see Taeyong. I immediately straightened up, glancing around the mostly empty bus stop. Where had he gone?

“Taeyo-” I was cut off as I saw him standing in the middle of the road.

What the hell? How did he get there?

From the left, a car was hurtling down the road. I opened my mouth to yell, but he looked at me and I froze. Something about the look in his eyes was dead… That wasn’t Taeyong… I tried to yell out to him, tried to tell him to move, that he was going to get hurt, but nothing seemed to work. His hollow eyes bore into mine and he mouthed one word.

“Sorry.”

“TAEYONG!” I gasped out, standing up straight and bewilderedly looking around.

“W-What!?”

I turned and looked at Taeyong. He was standing where I’d remembered, right beside me. I looked back at the road; cars were travelling along it but there was no one there. My gaze returned to Taeyong and he looked at me, concern laced his eyes and his eyebrows turned down in a frown. I sighed, shakily, and reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. I half expected my hand to phase right through him, but it pressed against him, solidly and I felt my knees buckle a little. What the hell was happening?

“Johnny… What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Y-Yeah…” I nodded, feeling a wave of nausea pass over me, “I’ll tell you when we get back home.”

“Alright.” He looked at me unsurely.

“I’m fine.” I mumbled, trying to breathe evenly.

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it back and out of my face which, I realized, was sweaty. It was negative twenty with a negative twenty-five wind chill, and I was sweating. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of everything that was currently happening. I took deep, steadying breaths and focused myself on waiting for the bus, which happened to drive up at that moment.

The doors opened and Taeyong stepped on first, pulling out his I.D. and smiling at the driver, who nodded. I followed suit, pulling out my I.D. and flashing a tired smile at the driver. He nodded at me as well, and I followed Taeyong towards the back doors of the bus, in hopes of collapsing onto a seat and managing to collect my thoughts. Unfortunately, though, there were no seats available. It was usual at this time that the bus would be incredibly crowded as everyone was trying to make it back to their apartments in the evening hours.

I held onto the railing above me, so as not to crash into anyone when the bus made a particularly violent turn and tried my hardest to take deep breaths and ignore the lead tiredness that was starting to take hold of me. There weren’t too many stops from the school to our apartment, but in this moment, it felt like forever. As I looked out the window, I caught a glimpse of my own reflection; I was pale and clammy, and my hair was sticking to my forehead. Again, I brushed my hair back and took a deep breath.

“Our stops next.” Taeyong mumbled to me.

I simply nodded. He pressed the “stop” button, and we both pushed our way towards the door. It was hard to push through a sea of other students, and we were desperately trying to make it before the driver stopped. But, as I was trying to get through the mass, someone grabbed my arm and pulled me backwards.

“What the hell?!” I gasped out, turning, confused and frustrated.

A boy with light brown hair and wide eyes stared at me. His mouth fell open and he shook his head. He seemed confused and alarmed all in one, and I was getting slightly impatient at this point. I frowned at the boy, and he immediately went into apology-mode.

“I am so sorry. I thought you were someone else!” He gasped out.

Seeing as people were staring at us, I just nodded, sighing and offering a smile.

“It’s fine. Happens to all of us.”

“Johnny, let’s go.” Taeyong’s voice caught my attention as the bus slowly came to a halt.

I smiled at the boy again and he nodded, an embarrassed smile on his face, and I turned, following Taeyong off the bus. We stepped back onto the cold streets and looked around the familiar area. Our building loomed in front of us; something seemed daunting about it, but the sleepiness was gnawing so furiously on my mind that I was willing to overlook that.

We crossed the street and went into the building, only to find that the elevator was “out of order.” Of course, on my longest and weirdest possible day, the elevator somehow found a way to be out of order. The coincidence of it all almost made me laugh, but instead, I just rolled my eyes and trailed behind Taeyong, up the stairs.

Finally, after twelve flights of stairs, we walked into our room and were greeted by a familiar and friendly site. I threw my own room door open and tossing my bag to the ground, I collapsed upon the softness of my bed, sinking into it and feeling, finally, at peace. Every odd worry and strange thought was immediately wiped from my mind the moment that my head hit the pillow. I could feel sleep already taking over me, and I wanted to go with it. I wanted to fall into a deep sleep; I needed it at this point. But I heard my door being pushed open again.

“So, you want to talk about what happened when we were walking home?”

“I was just imagining things.” I mumbled quietly.

“Are you sure? You seemed pretty shaken up about it.”

“Y-Yeah… I’m just…. Y’know…” I tried my hardest to form coherent sentences, but I was far beyond the barriers of language and grammar.

“Alright… Obviously, you’re way too sleepy to even put together a sentence so… We should just turn in for the night. You especially. We can talk about it in the morning. Sound good?”

I made an attempt at a thumbs-up but miserably failed. He laughed softly at the failed attempt, and left my room, shutting the door behind him. I rolled over, knowing I’d regret falling asleep in my clothes but… At this point, I was just too tired to care.

***

I woke up suddenly, bolting upright and staring around my dark room. What had caused my sudden alarm and awakening? I didn’t have a second to contemplate it, as a scream rang out from down the hall. I jumped out of bed and left my room, yanking the front door open. People were running towards the door that led to the stairs, with fear plastered on their faces.

Confusion and panic swept through me, and I rushed to Taeyong’s door, banging my hand against it as it flew open. He was standing there, his eyes wide and fear clearly present in them. I tried to ask what was wrong, but the fire alarm went off. We quickly rushed to put our shoes on and I thought my questions were answered, but as we ran outside, I realized that the building was not on fire. Rather, just as I had seen earlier, there were shooting stars trailing overhead in the sky, but this time, they seemed to be falling towards the earth, and the result was-

“Fire…” Taeyong whispered, his normally warm eyes, flushed with fear.

“We should go to campus…” I said, eyes nervously overlooking the flames.

“Yeah… They’ve probably got some system set up…”

Following the mass of students from the buildings, we rushed our way through the crowd. Every now and then I got glances of people I recognized from our building or from our classes. Everyone looked terrified, several people were glancing up every now and then. The fire seemed to have spread, but away from the main campus. A small feeling of relief rushed through me…

Everyone seemed to be heading for the closest entrances and because of that, there was a pileup of students waiting to get inside.

“Why don’t we go through the psych building?” Taeyong whispered, pointing towards another building in the distance. “We can just go through there and get inside a lot quicker.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I nodded, realizing that he and I weren’t wearing jackets, and becoming painfully aware of the cold.

We slipped away from the crowd and rushed off towards the building in the distance. I could hear his teeth chattering and a pang of guilt rushed through me. He was wearing a t-shirt and some PJ bottoms, while I was still in my sweater from earlier, with an extra shirt underneath, and a pair of jeans. I pulled my sweater off, thanking myself for wearing a long-sleeved shirt, and held it at him. He went to protest, but either the look on my face or his overwhelming coldness must’ve convinced him, and he took it- gratefully. Pulling it on, he seemed a lot warmer and smiled at me.

As we reached the door, I pulled it open and let him in, following closely behind.

“Might take us a while to find the opposite side of the building.” He whispered, looking around.

He was right. The psych building was probably one of the oldest ones on this campus and happened to be extremely maze-like, and mildly terrifying.

“Well, better start now, or we’ll be in here forever.” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.

He laughed softly and shaking his head, started walking down one of the paths. A few minutes later we hit a crossroad; one path led to a staircase and the other led down a different hall. He looked at me, frustration knitting his eyebrows.

“What d’you think?”

“Well, if we’re trying to find the connection, and it’s on the upper floors… We should probably head upstairs…?”

“Yeah… Probably safer to go up and then get a view of where we are.”

We walked up the stairs, the odd silence in the building was beginning to feel really unsettling. The stairs led to another door, which we walked through and led to another long hallway filled with dozens of doors. We started walking down the hall but, one set of doors caught my attention. The doors at the far end of the corridor; it was for one of those bigger lecture halls, but it was always locked with a sign on it reading “under construction.” The only difference this time was, it was slightly ajar.

“Taeyong, that door is open.”

“What- Oh… Yeah. So?”

“It’s never been open… It’s always been locked… And there’s always been a sign on it saying under construction.”

“Someone must’ve run out in a panic and forgotten to lock it. It happens.”

“Maybe but…” My curiosity was burning, and I moved towards the door.

“Johnny, if it’s actually under construction then it’s not safe in there.”

“Let me just shut it…” I said, ignoring his strained voice.

“Hurry, then…”

I moved forward, but instead of pulling it shut, I pushed it all the way open. My own gasp was drowned out by the sound of Taeyong swearing. He too seemed shocked at what was on the other side of the door.

“What the hell?” I breathed out, stepping into the room.

As I’d assumed, it was a large lecture hall type room. What was missing were the hundreds of seats and tables that students would sit at. Rather, there were several descending staircases that led towards the head of the room. Instead of a stage or platform where a professor would speak, there was some sort of machine. I turned and looked at Taeyong, who was standing a few steps away, eyes widened in fear.

I looked back, my curiosity was only growing. I walked into the room and started down the stairs. I felt Taeyong grab my hand and pull me to a halt.

“What?”

“Johnny, no… You don’t even know what that thing is. It could be dangerous.”

And he was right, but I just needed to know. I needed to figure it out. I didn’t know what was compelling me to go up to it but, I had to figure it out.

“It’s fine. I’m not going to touch it. I just want to see.”

“Johnny, please… If we’re caught in here, who knows what they’ll do… We should just get going.”

“I won’t take long. I just want to know what it is.”

“O-Okay… But I’m not going to stay here.”

“Scared?” I smirked at him.

“You wish, you dumb, tall giraffe.” He grumbled and stomped ahead of me.

I laughed and followed him down the stairs. As we reached the bottom, the machine loomed closer and ominously in front of us. There were four or five bathtub-like structures at the base of it, and in the middle, a control panel. I walked to the weird bathtub structures and looked more closely at them. They seemed to be filled with water, but it was probably some weird chemical that looked like water…

“Johnny… Come look at this…” Taeyong’s voice wavered.

I turned and walked towards the direction his voice was coming in, but I couldn’t find him. I looked around the empty hall, a slight panic filling me.

“Taeyong? If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not funny-”

I was cut off; the sound of footsteps caught my attention. I whipped around and saw Taeyong standing in front of another person, who was holding a knife to his throat. The man was wearing a mask that covered his entire face, and I could only see his eyes- which were grey and cold. My eyes widened, and I felt myself freeze. I was rooted to the spot, unable to move, speak, or think. Taeyong’s eyes shone in the light, full of fear and confusion.

“Who are you?” The voice was cold and steely.

I opened my mouth to answer, but the lump in my throat wasn’t allowing me to. What if I said the wrong thing? Would I lose my best friend? There was so much to risk, and I was pretty sure that not answering the question wasn’t an option. I stared at Taeyong, who shut his eyes and grit his teeth. My heart was sinking. How was this even real? How was this happening?

“Who are you?” He repeated, tone unwavering.

“W-We’re just students.” I stammered out, my voice meek and soft.

“What are your names?”

“Jo-”

“Hey!”

The three of us whipped around to see-

“Ten?” I questioned my eyebrows knitting.

The smaller boy, who seemed so friendly and meek earlier, stood there holding a gun. It was aimed at the man holding Taeyong at knifepoint. I didn’t think, that after all that had happened today, that anything else could really surprise me but, obviously I stood corrected. I stared at Ten, my head beginning to hurt.

“Let him go.” Ten’s eyes were narrowed in a dangerous way.

“Looks like you showed up.”

“You’re hunting me, not them. Let him, and the other one, go.” His sweet voice was no longer present; it was as if he was a completely different person.

“There are consequences for running.”

“I ran because it was the only logical thing to do…”

“Saving your skin because you’re too scared?”

“I found a way to leave… Of course, I was going to take it.”

“No one can leave. There are laws.”

“I won’t go back. And you can’t take me. Now, let them go. I won’t ask again.”

Taeyong and I exchanged confused glances. I noticed his eyes frantically motion between his captor’s grip on him loosening, and my general direction. I suddenly realized what he was planning, and although it terrified me, it was a better plan than nothing. But just as he went to pull away, the man swiftly moved the knife away from his neck and down to his stomach, plunging it into him, eliciting a loud gasp.

Taeyong’s eyes went wide, as he fell to his knees. My eyes widened, and I couldn’t find the words. He keeled backwards as the man started to run, but the sound of gunfire echoed through the auditorium and the man crumpled forwards, dead. Ten stood there, eyes dead and emotionless as he held the same position and stared at the body of the stranger.

I rushed over to Taeyong. Sinking to my knees, I tried to quell the bleeding, but there seemed to be nothing I could do. I pressed my hands over the wound and he looked at me, eyes hollow as if the stars that were usually present in them were winking out. He tried to grasp onto my hand, but his shaky fingers couldn’t muster the strength. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“W-We’ll get you help. You’re going to be fine!” I gasped out, finally finding my words.

He opened his mouth to speak but he just coughed, wincing and groaning in pain. Tears began to well in my eyes and I couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t die. This couldn’t be happening. How was this happening?!

I turned around helplessly and looked at Ten. His eyes were full of sorrow and he sighed.

“Call someone! Anyone! What are you doing just standing there?!” I yelled.

“It’s too late… He’s not going to make it.” He said, eyes filled with pity.

“That’s not up for you to decide!” Anger flooded through me.

“I’m sorry…”

“P-Please… He’s my friend… My only friend…” I whispered, tears falling freely, “I can’t lose him… He’s all I have.” I gasped out, shaking.

“J-Johnny…” Taeyong’s feeble voice caught my attention and I turned and looked at him.

He smiled, weakly and opened his eyes slightly. I couldn’t help the sob that escaped me. I was going to lose my best friend… I was going to lose the only person who had tried to be a part of my life… And it was my fault. All of this was my fault.

“D-Don’t… Don’t cry…” He gasped out, smiling at me and reaching his hand out to wipe my tears but recoiled instantly as pain rippled across his face.

“D-Don’t move… I’m going to get you help. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“N-No… Too late for me… Just… Don’t cry…” He whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

“No. No! NO! Taeyong, no!” I yelled, my heart racing as panic coursed through me.

I turned back to Ten who was fiddling with something in his hands. I couldn’t even muster the anger to yell, to scream, to do anything. I felt defeated… How did this happen?

“Alright, Johnny. When you wake up, remember, you asked for this.”

I looked back at Ten. He looked tired and frustrated.

“W-What?”

“I will help you save your friend. But remember, there are consequences. Every action has a reaction.” He looked at me with serious eyes.

“I-I don’t care… I just want to help him…”

“Alright. Hold on, okay?” His voice was noticeably warm.

My eyes opened suddenly, and I snapped my head up off the desk on which my face was pressed against. My head spun as I'd moved too fast, and I gripped the edge of the desk, feeling an extreme wave of sickness passing over me… I looked around, confused and panicked. As I turned my head to my right, the sight beside me nearly made me pass out from shock, happiness, and confusion.

Taeyong was sitting there, eyes directed forward at the professor. He looked at me and smiled warmly. I felt my legs lose all feeling and tears well up in my eyes. He noticed my expression and immediately looked concerned. I felt an overwhelming sense of relief flood my system. I looked around again, half expecting it all to fade away as if I were in a hallucination of some sort. But nothing happened. Everything stayed the same…

Had I really just dreamed all of that? Was all of what I just witnessed a figment of my imagination? It seemed unrealistic and impossible… But somehow, it felt real. The sounds, the feelings, the scents… Those felt real. Not like something I’d ever experienced in a dream before. I stared at Taeyong, who was confusedly looking at me, pure concern lacing his eyes. I shook my head, running my hands through my hair and taking a deep breath. It was a dream. That’s why I was here, now, with him… That’s why he wasn’t…

I couldn’t even think about it without feeling a sick nausea passing over me again. I shut my eyes and rubbed them, trying to rid myself of the thoughts about what had happened… That had been the most vivid dream I’d ever experienced… I heard the prof speaking up again, and I looked over.

“Please remember, these studies help, not only you but the university and the graduate students who are running them. Anyway, make sure to read the next chapter from the textbook for next class, and that should be all the work that you are required to do this week. Have a good evening everyone.”

The hall came to life, as it always would. People began to pack as if it were any other day. Everyone was chattering away, unaware of how I was feeling. Why did all this feel like such major déjà vu? If that had all just been a dream, why had it been so vivid and real…? Why had it felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest? Why did the blood on my fingers feel so real?

“Johnny? What’s wrong?” Taeyong asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Standing up, I reached out and rested my hand on his shoulder. He looked at me, even more confused than before. I immediately grabbed him into the tightest embrace and tried my hardest to avoid crying right there. Shaking, I pulled away slowly and looked at him. He had the most confused look on his face, but grinned awkwardly at me anyway.

“T-Thank you?”

“I… I had a bad dream.” I decided that was the safest way to state it.

“Really? ‘Bout what?”

“Well… There was a lot going on but… You… Died.” I looked at him quickly and he immediately started laughing.

“I what?!” He smiled widely at me.

Although I was annoyed that he found the whole situation funny, I couldn’t help but smile too. Although Taeyong was a worrier, he was also light-hearted, and it was easy to forget your worries around him. He began packing up, but continually asked me to relive my dream to him.

“I wanna know how I died! Was it heroic? Was I cool and dramatic?” He asked wiggling his eyebrows and giggling, not unlike a child.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed and pushed him slightly, “You’re an idiot, you know that right?”

“Yes. I do. Now tell me!”

“No! You’re going to make fun of me, and it was a serious dream. I was really worried about you. I really thought you’d died.”

“Don’t worry Johnny, I’m never going to die. I’ll always stick around to annoy you.”

“Oh great. Now I wish I hadn’t woken up.”

“Hey!” He pouted and pushed me slightly.

“I’m kidding.” I laughed, smiling at him, but I was reminded of his face covered in blood, and my heart sank again, “It just felt… So real…”

“Like, you’d already seen it once before kind of real, or like… Where it just feels unnaturally and tangibly real?” “The second one… It felt real. It honestly felt like right now. Everything that happened is literally what’s happening here. I had fallen asleep on the desk and then I woke up at the end of class and we left together. But on the way home, we were stopped by a boy, who I’d never met but you knew him, and anyway, we got home… And then there was this shooting star thing that happened, and they were falling to the earth and there was fire, so they were moving students to the main campus… And, we wanted to take a shortcut into the buildings and so we went through the psych building but then I wanted to explore one of the empty halls, and you were against it but then we saw this giant, strange machine so we went in. And when we were looking at it, you got captured by this guy and he held you at knife-point… And anyway… That guy from before, that you knew, showed up and he tried to bargain for your life, but the guy holding you stabbed you, and then the other dude shot him… And you were dying.”

I looked at Taeyong, who was staring at me with wide eyes. Panic seized me; did he think I was insane? But my qualms were quelled a moment later as he burst into laughter. I sighed, rolled my eyes, and slinging my bag over my shoulder, I started towards the stairs. Still laughing, Taeyong followed suit and chased after me. He caught onto my arm and faked wiping a tear away.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Not that it didn’t sound like the coolest dream in the history of dreams, but it was slightly unrealistic.”

“In what way?” I asked, laughing along now.

“I wouldn’t be the one to die. That would be you.” He said as seriously as he could muster.

“I was actually worried about you, and that’s all you can say.” I feigned hurt.

“Don’t worry Johnny. If it ever came to that sort of situation, I would protect you.” He winked at me.

“Yeah, I’d love to witness the day that you and those scrawny arms could protect anything.” I snorted.

“Wow, here I am trying to protect you and all you can do is insult me?”

“You deserve it. Making fun of me for being genuinely worried about you.”

“I told you, don’t worry. It was just a dream after all.”

Although every rational part of me knew he was right, I couldn’t help but feel an inkling of worry. If the dream hadn’t felt so real, I didn’t think I’d be this fixated on it… But it had. It’d been the most real a dream had ever felt. I wasn’t sure I’d ever experienced something like that in my life. How was I supposed to just put it out of mind? Sure, to him, it might’ve been easy. But he hadn’t been the one to witness his best friend’s death- and real or not, that shit was traumatizing. I shivered slightly, trying my hardest to repress the vivid feeling and colour of the blood that had covered my hands.

Looking around, I realized we’d managed to walk all the way to the bus stop- this time, with no disturbances from anyone. Maybe my subconscious had just made him up. I looked around, and this time, there was no one at the bus stop. There was, however, snow falling even more heavily than in the dream.

“Odd.” Taeyong mumbled, pulling out his phone and checking the times again.

Leaning over his shoulder, I looked at the times, “There should’ve been one just now,” I mumbled.

“Yeah… I wonder what’s up.”

From behind us, we heard someone talking loudly. We both turned to look at the source of the voice. My eyes widened when I realized who I was looking at. He had light brown hair and a wide grin. He was talking animatedly into the microphone on a pair of earbuds, and when he noticed us looking, his cheeks flushed, and he lowered his voice. Taeyong simply turned and looked back at the road, checking both directions to see if the bus was coming. I, however, stood there, rooted to the spot. My eyes focused only on the shorter boy, his conversation flying right over my head. That was the boy that’d stopped me on the bus. There was no mistaking it. He was real.

“Taeyong, do you know who that is?” I leaned over, speaking quietly to him.

He glanced back and shrugged, “No, I’ve never seen him before. Why?”

“No reason…” I shook my head, not wanting to have him laugh at me again.

“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He said, concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah… I just think that dream took a real toll on me.” I said, laughing weakly.

“Well, hopefully, the bus comes soon. Then we can get home, and you can get the rest that you need.”

“Yeah…”

“Hey, guys!” The familiar voice of the boy startled us both.

We turned to look at him, and his cheeks were slightly pink; whether it was the weather or his embarrassment, I couldn’t tell. He stood there, nervousness seemed to fill the air, and he wrung his hands out awkwardly as if he couldn’t find the words to tell us what he wanted to say.

“Hi,” Taeyong said, smiling.

“Sorry, if this is awkward and out of nowhere… But, I was just on the phone with my friend, and he told me the busses have been cancelled due to the snow.”

“Oh shit, really?”

“Yeah, he was also waiting for his bus, but it never showed. And he called the bus station, that’s when they told him that all the lines closed early tonight seeing as the snow started to really come down. I thought I’d just let you guys know… It’s better than just standing here for a few hours.”

“Thanks, we appreciate it.” Taeyong grinned.

“No problem, I’ll see you around then.”

“Yeah, see you.”

He turned to walk away, but Taeyong immediately called out again.

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, East Village housing-”

“We live there too!”

“Oh cool! We could walk together.” The boy immediately blushed again, and frantically stuttering said, “Only if you’d want to do that of course. I understand if you wouldn’t want to.”

“Not at all! It’ll be better than walking alone, right?”

“Definitely. Shall we get going then?”

“Sounds good. I’m Taeyong by the way, and this is Johnny.”

“I’m Mark.” He smiled shyly.

“What year are you in?” I asked, finally speaking up.

“First. And you guys?”

“Third year. Both of us.”

“Yeah, I suspected you were both older. Not that you look old!” He panicked again, eyes widening.

“Don’t worry.” Taeyong said while I laughed awkwardly, “We know we look old.”

“Ah, don’t take it that way.” He meekly smiled.

“Don’t worry, we’re not being serious. We’re actually the epitome of youth. Can’t you see?”

“Totally.” He nodded, feigning seriousness.

We all burst into laughter. All my previous fears melted away; talking and laughing with both Taeyong and Mark made it easy to forget my worries. After all, I’d probably just seen Mark around campus somewhere, and that’s how he’d appeared in my dream so vividly. It was just a dream. Nothing else.

As we were walking back, out of the corner of my vision, I noticed the psych building. I stopped, looking at it, my curiosity burning desperately within me. I bit my lip, wondering if it was worth the risk. Even though it wasn’t real, even though it had just been a dream, part of me was convinced there was something behind that door. I mean, obviously, my subconscious had forced it into my dreams as a way of conveying that I had the desire to know what was behind it… Right? I frowned, still stuck staring at the building, trying to make a decision.

“What’s wrong?” Taeyong asked.

“Would you mind if we took a detour?” I asked, my voice sounding strangely unlike me.

“Why? And to where?”

“I want to go see inside the psych building.”

“Johnny if this is about the dream- I promise there is nothing weird in that building. Other than those experiment chambers, there is nothing else in there.”

“I know, I just… I need to make sure. I need to know that what I saw wasn’t real.”

“What’s going on?” Mark’s voice pierced my ears and I looked at him.

“He had a crazy dream and now he’s convinced it was real.” Taeyong sighed.

“Dreams are parallel universes, or at least… That’s what I believe.” Mark said shrugging.

“C’mon it’ll be quick.” I pleaded, looking back at Taeyong.

“I’m with Johnny. We should check it out!” Mark said, seriously.

“You can’t be buying into this!”

“What are you talking about? Dreams are terrifying. Of course, I want to check it out.”

��Oh my god, I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall.” Taeyong said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Look at it this way, if I’m wrong-”

“Which you are!”

“-then you get to prove it. If I’m right, then we’ll see what I was talking about and then we can leave.”

“But you’re wrong!”

“But you won’t ever know for sure unless you check, right? And once we know for sure that I’m wrong, you can rub it in my face. C’mon… It won’t take me that long. I remember exactly where the room was. Plus, you get to use your favourite phrase: I told you so. You’ve literally got nothing to lose.”

Staring between us for a second, he sighed, “Fine, fine. But don’t think this means I’m on your side.”

I sighed in relief, smiling at Taeyong, who weakly smiled back. Quickly, I set off at a brisk pace towards the psych building. I pulled out my phone, glancing at the time to make sure that this was occurring at a different time, before the last set of events had taken place. Luckily, we had time to spare. Nevertheless, I kept my speedy pace up, as we rushed into the psych building. We walked down a long and narrow hallway, as we’d done in the dream, and eventually came upon the same staircase. Looking back at them, I nodded and took the stairs two at a time. At the top of the stairs was a door which led to another extremely narrow hallway. The end of the hall had a set of double doors, leading towards what I’d always presumed to be a lecture hall under construction.

“That’s it.” I pointed.

“You came all this way to look at a lecture hall door?” Taeyong groaned.

“No, I came to see what was on the other side of it.”

“Wouldn’t it be, oh I don’t know… A lecture hall?”

“No, it was something else. Some kind of machine… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Okay, fine. Go open it.”

Feverishly, I rushed to the door. Gripping the handle, with a sweaty, shaky hand, I pushed in.

As if being submerged in icy water, I gasped for air. It felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of me. There, in the room, just as it had been before was the same machine, and it was connected to the same five bathtub-like structures, which still appeared to be filled with a substance that bore a great deal of resemblance to water. I stared, unable to figure out how to respond to what I was looking at. And as if it were a perfect repetition of my dream, I heard Taeyong curse loudly. Mark, the only addition to the picture, uttered a soft and awed, “Woah,” all while stepping forward slightly.

How could this be happening? How was any of this real?!

“How is that real?” Taeyong’s trembling voice brought me back to the present.

“I don’t know…”

“What the hell is it?”

“I have no clue.” “Well, you dreamed it! And now it’s here? What is going on?!” He sounded panicked.

“I’m not sure…”

“Can we get closer?” Mark asked, stepping into the lecture hall, all caution thrown to the wind.

“No!” Taeyong gasped, pulling him back. “If your dream was anything like the truth, then there is no way I’m letting either of you near that thing. We don’t even know what it is?”

“I’m going to see what it is.” I said, already walking towards it.

I heard Mark scramble after me, and after a few grumbling sounds, Taeyong gave in and followed as well. I was at the bottom of the stairs before I could even process it; my feet seemed to have gained their own will and control. My mind was a mess of static, confusion, and panic. Nothing and everything seemed real all at the same time. I walked towards what seemed to be the main part of the machine. There was computer built into the base of the machine, and it seemed to be on. I looked at the screen. It was black and there was a blinking cursor. I stared at it, fingers trembling as I reached out for the keyboard.

“Who the hell are you?!” A voice echoed angrily.

The three of us turned, panic flowing through me and my heart starting to madly beat. I already knew what was coming. Was I really going to put myself- and my friends- through this again?

But instead of being the knife-wielding man that had nearly killed my best friend, it was someone else-

“Ten?!” Taeyong said, confusion layering even more into his voice.

“Taeyong…” He said, a look of sadness flitted across his expression briefly, but it was gone in an instant. He looked around and when he saw me, he frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I-”

“I would’ve thought you’d learned your lesson. I would’ve thought you’d brushed it off, in the least. You weren’t supposed to come back!”

“It just didn’t seem real… I had to know if it was a dream-”

“It wasn’t!” He yelled.

I froze.

“S-So… What does that mean?”

“It means I rewound time… It means I broke every law there is, just to save your friend. And now you’re here. And if anyone catches you here, they will hurt you and your friends again. You can’t be here!”

As he said that, screams started echoing around us.

“The stars are falling… It’s happening earlier.” He whispered, looking at the watch on his wrist.

“What’s going on? Johnny? Ten? Someone answer me!” Taeyong’s voice was slightly raised, matching his anxious expression.

“Taeyong, I’m so sorry… You guys weren’t meant to be dragged into this.” Ten said, looking even more pained.

“Guys, I think someone’s coming.” Mark spoke up finally.

He was right. The sounds of yelling came from behind the doors. And it wasn’t the terrified screams of students on campus. Rather, it was the sound of people yelling orders. I could barely make out what was being said, but their calm tones were a dead giveaway that we were in trouble. I looked at Ten, who had his eyes shut tightly, brow furrowed in concentration. I opened my mouth, to speak but his eyes snapped open first. He looked at the three of us, sadness too clearly present in his eyes, and sighed.

“Alright, we don’t have much of choice at this point.”

“What are you talking about?” Taeyong took a step forward but Ten held up his hand, stopping him.

“Just… Hold on.”

He walked over to the keyboard that was attached to the monitor, and leaning over, began typing furiously. None of us said anything as we were far too confused and taken back by what was happening. I looked at Taeyong, his eyes held nothing but confusion. Mark seemed to be in the same state, except it was much more evident in his face and actions. He was nervously looking at the doors and ringing his hands. I tried not to show how I was feeling, but it was difficult.

“Alright. Get in.” Ten said, straightening and pointing to the bathtub structures.

“What?!” Mark yelped.

“If you want to live, get into the pods.”

“Ten… Please tell us what’s going on.” Taeyong put his hands-on Ten’s shoulders and pleaded.

“Taeyong, I’m trying to save your lives. Please… I’ll explain it when we’re somewhere that’s not here. If we wait any longer, we’ll all end up dead. Please. Just trust me.”

“I do.” I said, without thinking.

Ten looked at me, a sort of gratitude blazed in his eyes. I nodded at him, and he looked back into Taeyong’s eyes. It was the sincerity in his voice that convinced me. I sighed and looked at the pods.

“I’m trying to save you.” Ten said, desperation entering his voice, “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“O-Okay…” Taeyong said, hands shaking slightly as he took a step back.

Mark looked even paler than before, as he robotically walked over to one of the pods. We all watched Ten as he rushed over to the machine and pressed a few more keys.

“I’ve set it on a timer, we need to hurry.” He said and walked over to his own one and got in, lying down and crossing his arms.

We all followed suit. Cautiously, I stepped into the watery substance. I let out a soft gasp, not expecting it to be warm. Removing my bag and setting it near my feet, I sat down. I gave Taeyong one last reassuring look. Although I didn’t know what our future held, I hoped that at least we’d be safe. He smiled, nervously.

We both lay back, submerging ourselves in the liquid. It covered almost my entire body, except my face. I shut my eyes, confused and still waiting to wake up as if this was another dream. But nothing happened. I opened my eyes again, and to my surprise, a lid had appeared over the top of the pod. I reached my hand out to touch it, but suddenly I was falling.

It was like no other experience in my entire life. The feeling of falling without the reassurance of an end. The feeling of my stomach going up as if on a never-ending roller coaster, made my head spin. I felt nauseous and out of breath. The thought of gasping for air entered my mind, but even trying to open my mouth seemed like a dangerous idea, as I was pretty sure at any moment I would throw up.

But it suddenly stopped. Just like that. The falling stopped as I collided with the hard, solid ground. I lay there, confused and gasping for air, my chest heaving. My face was pressed against something that felt like concrete after the rain. The only feelings that I was aware of were that of my hands and knees which were stinging painfully from the collision, as well as the pounding in my head. The sudden pressure drop made my vision foggy and I was having trouble thinking. Slowly and carefully, I pressed my palms against the ground but hissed in pain as I retracted them immediately. Maybe I had damaged them a lot worse than I’d thought. I lay there, listening. The sounds of water dripping and hitting stones, echoed all around me. Water gently tricked somewhere, not far from me. That, coupled with the extremely hollow, empty droning, made my stomach tighten in anxiety. On top of that, the scents were overpowering. It smelled like wet mould, dirt, and decay. I was already feeling nauseous, but the smell only added to it, causing me to retch slightly. I needed to figure out where I was.

Using my forearms and elbows instead, I managed to push myself up off the cold floor. But overwhelming nausea caused me to bend back down. Gasping heavily, my mouth burned with the taste of bile. Finally, managing to push myself up, I turned as I got myself into a seated position, and looked around. It was dark, extremely dark. There was very limited lighting, coming from somewhere, but I couldn’t really tell. It seemed that most of the light was emanating from the vivid, sickeningly, greenish-blue pathway of water. It looked like I was in a sewer. The sudden sound of squeaking and hissing caused me to gasp and look around, but I couldn’t find the source of the sound due to the echoes skewing my perception. I swallowed, hard.

Trembling slightly, I looked at my hands. They were covered in mud and blood. I grimaced and looked around. The floor which I was upon was wet and covered in dirt and grime. My head felt like it would split in two at any moment and I could barely think. Gritting my teeth and shaking immensely, I pushed myself to stand up. My legs shook as I put my weight on them, and I nearly keeled over right there but I managed to grip onto a wall that was to my right. Something was definitely wrong with my left ankle and putting weight upon was not an option. So, gripping the wall, I pushed myself to stand, and tried taking a shaky step. One by one, I limped closer towards the water. When I’d reached the edge of the platform I was on, I kneeled and looked down into the bright water. It seemed to go on forever. Looking left and right, it swirled off into the different paths and kept going far beyond my line of vision. The water cast an eerie, greenish-blue glow on the walls and on me.

I wondered whether it was worth sticking my hands in there and washing them off but decided against it. Standing again, I looked around. There was just enough light for me to be able to make out pathways, one to the left and one to the right. I swallowed again, now quite aware of how dry my mouth and throat were.

It suddenly struck me- Where was Taeyong?! And Mark, and Ten? Much too fast, I looked around again, causing my head to spin as I clutched the wall, feeling the bile rise to my mouth. I spat it out, retching and coughing. My head was pounding even harder if that was possible, and my throat was now burning. I breathed, heavily, and looked up slowly. I had no choice. If they weren’t here, I’d have to find them. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something lying there. Turning, carefully, I saw my bag. A feeling of relief seemed to flood through me. There was something comforting about having your stuff with you when you were completely alone.

I limped over to it, picking it up and pulled it on. It hung to my right side and with every step I took it swayed, pulling my balance off slightly, but I’d have to get used to managing the extra weight. I looked around again, I had the option to go left or right. I bit my lip, feeling torn; there was no way to know for sure where the others were, or if they were even together. How was I going to find them? Closing my eyes, I listened to the sounds around me, hoping it would help me decide. I heard the same hissing and squeaking coming from somewhere to the right.

“That’ll have to do.” I whispered, my voice echoing off the walls.

Walking slowly, still holding onto the wall, I followed the right path. My eyes were finally adjusting to the dark tunnels, and I was finally able to get used to the scent. Walking too had become slightly easier, although the pain was still there, it had begun to dull. I walked and walked and walked, losing track of how long I’d been doing it. I couldn’t tell what was going on, I had no perception of time. All I could do was keep walking, in hopes that eventually I would come across someone or something.

I’d been following the sounds of, what I could only hope were rats. Their scurrying feet pattering in the water, the sounds of them squeaking loudly in terror and anger as they fought with one another, it all made me feel tightly wound. I sighed, shakily. I was terrified, and I had nothing but my bag to hold onto.

That’s when the scent hit me; it wasn’t strong but even the smallest whiff caused me to feel ill. It was disgusting. Like rotted, decaying trash, something that was so sickening it made your head spin… That’s what it smelled like. I covered my mouth, continuing to walk. But the scent only got stronger, and with it, the sound of rats became louder and louder. I had a chilling feeling I knew what I was going to encounter, but that didn’t make it any easier.

I knew what was coming, even before I rounded the corner. The smell was so overpowering that I had to press my face against my sleeve, yet it still somehow permeated the cloth. I turned the corner, dreading what I was about to see, knowing I’d regret it. But I didn’t have much of a choice. As I rounded the corner, and my eyes landed upon it, I stumbled backwards. Unable to stop myself, I crashed, falling backwards and crawled as far as I could, before vomiting violently. I heard more rats gathering, and I knew I’d have to get away from them before they could come near me, but my head was spinning. Trembling even harder than before, I stood again. I felt drained. I looked back over, my stomach ached, and I stared at it…

A body. A human body… Or what was left of it anyway. From the minimal lighting, you could see the decay… And it wasn’t pretty. Most of the person was missing due to the rats, which were here in great numbers fighting over this source of food. They’d managed to get down to the innards of the person, and from where I was, something that looked suspiciously like intestines were spilling out of them. Yet, mixed in with the blood and guts, I saw several metal parts. I held my breath, feeling sick, and walked around the corpse. My head felt lighter and even more painful than before. What the hell was going on here…?

As I walked away, I turned to look back every now and again, a feeling of ominous dread hanging over me. How had that person died? Had something killed them? My mind was swirling with questions, but I knew I wouldn’t get answers- at least not until I found Ten.

From up ahead, I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps. My heart leapt into my throat and ignoring all the pain my body was feeling, I broke into a sprint. The pain in my ankle was searing now, but the adrenaline was fueling me to push forward. As I rounded another corner, relief, happiness, and exhaustion all hit me.

“Taeyong.” I gasped, my legs feeling weak and shaking even harder.

The three boys turned around, eyes wide. Taeyong gasped, and even from here I could see the tears filling his eyes. He rushed towards me, embracing me tightly.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He whispered, gasping.

“Never.” I mumbled, pulling away and smiling at him weakly.

He seemed to be in the same banged up condition as me. Dirt, grime, and blood covered his face. I touched his cheek, where a gash was bleeding. He shook his head and smiled at me, reassuring me he was okay, but it hurt to see him like this.

Looking over at Mark and Ten, they too were looking exhausted and dirty. Ten smiled at me and nodded, eyes softening and a seeming relief overtaking him. He looked alright; he had several scratches and bites on him, but nothing too bad. I looked at Mark, who grinned but somehow looked worse than all of us. A cut had appeared above his left eye, which was swollen and bleeding. He had several bite marks on his hands and arms and he seemed to be shaking.

“We should hurry before the rats smell the blood.” Ten mumbled, looking exhausted.

I nodded, and Taeyong and I joined them and continued walking. The silence seemed to become strained now that I was there. I was burning with a thousand questions, but I wasn’t sure how to ask them. I didn’t know if Ten even wanted to talk. I, for one, was exhausted and talking seemed like it would take the last bit of energy I had left, out of me.

“I know you want to ask something so… Ask.” Ten chuckled, wincing slightly, grabbing at his side.

“Are you ok?”

“Are any of us ok?” He asked, smiling coldly.

“Right…” I whispered.

“I’m not mad at you. I was. But I’m not anymore.” He said, glancing sideways at me.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I would’ve had to come back here eventually.”

“Ten… Where is… Here?”

“A dream.”

“What?” I stopped dead in my tracks.

“We’re trapped in a dream.”

“You’re crazy…”

“Look… Believe me or don’t believe me, I’m telling you the truth. We’re trapped inside someone else’s dream. It’s more of a nightmare, to be honest with you but… This is someone else’s subconscious.”

“You’re crazy.” I repeated, even more terrified and taking a step backwards.

“Johnny. I don’t know how to convince you of this. 3 years ago, we were brought here. It was a project that a science company created. The company was known as Science Modern.” “Why does that sound familiar?”

“It should be. There was a huge lawsuit filed against them. It was in the news for ages. They went bankrupt.”

“So… What happened?”

“They tried to create a machine that would allow you to enter a test subject’s dreams. They were actually doing really well. They created the machine, that was the easy part.”

“That’s supposed to be the easy part?”

“They needed live subjects. But with something that could go so wrong, the Board of Ethics would never pass them. Experimenting on people is something that can have serious repercussions. You’re in the psych program, you should know that. Anyway… They were desperate. They needed more money, and they needed results. So, they put out ads for young people. People who wouldn’t necessarily be missed. People who could disappear and no one would question it. Anyway, eventually, they gathered enough people. Most of them were just desperate for money…” There was a distinct pause, but he continued, as if nothing had happened, “And then, they eventually started experimenting.”

“What happened?”

“The first subject died. The process was so taxing on his body, that his heart gave out. Science Modern successfully covered it up, saying he was a boy who was working on another project and had a series of heart defects… No one said another word, after all, it was a science company that was making these claims, and they’d never get their information wrong… They continued testing. The second person managed to last for a few hours, but he too eventually had a heart attack. Science Modern realized that technically live patients weren’t going to cut it. They needed to find someone who was… Alive but not really.”

“Comatose patients…” I whispered, horrified.

“Exactly. They managed to convince a family to sign over their comatose son… And it worked. The boy was barely alive but because he wasn’t technically living, nothing bad seemed to be happening. So, they went with it.”

“That’s disgusting…”

“It gets worse… They realized that they needed people who were willing to go into the person’s subconscious. But because they had a limited number of scientists, who weren’t expendable, they needed civilians. At least until the method was perfected.”

“Holy shit…”

“Yup… The remaining people who’d signed up? They sent them into the comatose patient’s subconscious, along with guards who were basically robots, not knowing if they could get the people out or if they would die… And it worked. They managed to put people into the dreams, people were freely able to explore and act on their own volition within someone else’s mind… But the major downside was that they couldn’t leave. These young people, including children, were trapped inside someone’s mind. Anyway… Someone in Science Modern suddenly grew a conscience and decided to rat out the whole operation. Most of the members and scientists fled and changed their identities, but the CEO was sued. The public never found out what he was sued for but… The company ended up going bankrupt.”

“So… You’re…”

“Yeah. I’m one of the people who signed up.” His voice broke slightly as did my heart.

“All of the people here are young. We’ve been trapped for what feels like forever. There’s no concept of time here. Everyone just exists. And it doesn’t help that the mind of this boy is obviously very troubled… I told you, this world isn’t safe. These aren’t dreams of someone who hasn’t suffered a trauma… This boy is very ill… And what’s worse is that those AI guards have evolved their own conscience… They believe they’re doing the right thing, keeping us here. Them, mixed with the monsters that live in this boy’s mind… Well, it’s safe to say that this is about surviving. The remaining victims, we grouped together and formed a sort of resistance. We called ourselves Neo Culture Technology… As an oppose to Science Modern… It feels cheesy to say it now but, it helps us stay close and feel united. It feels like we’re really fighting for something.”

“But, how’d you escape?”

“I found one of the scientist’s workbooks. Must’ve been mistakenly sent in at some point. Well, he had notes on maybe a successful way to evacuate the survivors from here. But nothing was solid yet. I decided I didn’t have much of a choice. I had to see if any of his plans were solid. The method was basically to rework the machine that Science Modern had created and make a gateway out. One of the boys actually managed to build one, but I wasn’t about to send a bunch of terrified and innocent people through it… So, I decided I’d go through. If it worked, I’d find a way to get back and help the others come through.”

“What if it didn’t…?”

“If not, I’d die… But that would be a better fate than what I was living in…”

He looked weary and regretful. I placed a hand on his shoulder and shaking his head, as if trying to rid thoughts from his mind, he smiled at me weakly.

“Anyway, it worked. I found myself in the real world, in the middle of nowhere. I walked for days trying to find someone or a sign of life. I ended up hitching rides with strangers until I found out about your school.”

“The university?”

“I heard rumours that the machine had been moved there, under tight security. So, I made my way there. I blended in, went to classes, tried my best to seem like I was part of the student life. And then I found the machine. But… I didn’t know how to activate it or if I’d even end up in the same world I had started in. I couldn’t be sure of anything… So, I had to test the machine. Unfortunately, on one of these days, Taeyong happened to walk into the room.” He smiled wryly.

I looked at Taeyong who shrugged, “Ten already told us what happened but… I don’t really recall any of this.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t… I had to rewind time…”

“But how-” “The AI guards have capabilities to rewind time. Since they’re artificial intelligence, and because it’s a dream world, there are no set consequences for them- for the living, it was a different case… They would often rewind time when someone died and force them to relive it. It’s their method of torture… And fun…” He shivered involuntarily but continued, “I got into a tight spot with one of them. I killed it and managed to take it apart. I found the component that allowed them to rewind time and removed it. We used a lot of the parts I’d found from it to make the escape pod… Anyway, I hung onto the complex and it came in use… But, in the real world, it had obvious consequences. The falling stars? That’s my fault. When I rewound real time, it became extremely clear that the world wasn’t used to spinning in reverse and that it caused massive shifts in real time… Things that weren’t meant to happen for another hundred years would occur much faster. That’s why I was so hesitant to rewind time when Taeyong died… I knew something else would happen and I was already responsible for one mistake, I wasn’t sure if I could handle two… But you looked so upset.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Thank you for doing it…” I whispered, looking at my shoes, “I don’t understand… If you could rewind time, couldn’t you go back far enough to before the whole situation happened?”

He chuckled and shook his head, “They only rewind for a few hours, if you’re lucky. Most are only meant for a few minutes… It wouldn’t work. And now the component I had is dead. It was pretty low in power when I first got it and using it to rewind in hours must’ve taken a real toll…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’d rather see Taeyong living too. So, we’re now here again. But, the good thing is, I can send you three through when we get back to our base camp. We’re almost there now.”

“What-”

“You three shouldn’t be here in the first place. So, when we get back to the base camp, I’ll send you through. The rest of us will shortly join you, I promise.”

“What about those people who were chasing you?”

“Those were the AI guards. Almost seemed human, didn’t they? They’re built like humans… Flesh, blood, bone… But they’re made of parts like a machine. They have their own mind and can make connections… They’re smart, but we’re smarter. We’ve managed for as long as we have so…”

I was about to ask him another question when he pointed. We all followed his gaze and hand and looked to see a door. He smiled brightly and sighed.

“This is it. Shield your eyes okay?”

“What?”

He walked towards the door and pushed against it. As it opened, blinding light poured in. All three of us ducked our heads downwards, wincing and gasping. Ten, shielding his eyes, took a step forward and breathed deeply. Fresh air hit my lungs and I gasped. It was overwhelming. I looked up, slowly moving my hand away from in front of my eyes, to see a forest expanding largely in front of us. My mouth fell open, and I glanced at Taeyong and Mark who also seemed perplexed.

“It’s a dream, boys… It’s never what you think.” Ten said, stepping out into the evening glow of the setting sun.

Taeyong and Mark followed, with me closely behind. As I put my foot down on the fresh earth, and the scent of the evening reached my nose, I felt pain and emotion overwhelm me. The sounds of birds twittering in the glow of the sun, a river rushing downstream, and even the small critters squeaking loudly all seemed so foreign. My eyes, still adjusting to the sudden brightness, picked up little dots of colour scurrying around in the golden light. Trees, taller than I’d ever seen in my entire life, reached towards the sky, branched out and created a dappled light texture that fell upon my skin. I breathed in; the smell of rain and dirt and life all consumed me as I stood there. Ten looked at me, a sad smile gracing his lips.

“It seems beautiful, right? The boy whose head we’re in… He was a painter. He used to sit and watch these scenes for hours. Very talented boy.”

“How do you know?”

“He was my friend.” Ten said, blinking suddenly, and looking down, avoiding eye-contact.

“Your friend?”

“Yeah… Best friend actually… He stuck with me through some tough stuff. And uh… He was in an accident and that’s when the coma happened and now… This…” Ten’s eyes glazed over slightly.

I wanted to comfort him, but… I didn’t know what to say.

“Ten, I’m sorry…”

“It sucks, dude, but… You move through it. You learn from it.”

“That’s brave.”

“Maybe.” He sighed, “Anyway, we should hurry. Sun’s setting… That’s when it becomes less beautiful.”

We followed along behind him, looking around in awe at the world around us. It was beautiful. Absolutely every detail seemed real. Ten’s speech still had me reeling. It was difficult to digest it, but I had to. I couldn’t really tell what was real anymore and what wasn’t. But everything here… All of it seemed to be real. It felt so incredibly real.

“There.” Ten’s voice suddenly rang out.

He pointed to a tree. But it wasn’t an ordinary tree. It had three platforms that ran up its trunk. Each platform had cabin-like structures. There were stairs that led to each level, and even from here, you could see people walking along the levels.

Mouth open, I looked at Taeyong and Mark, who also seemed very awestruck. Ten saw our expressions and laughed.

“It looks good right…? This is our current hideout. We have several for any time we have to move suddenly.”

“You built this?” Mark asked.

“No. Fourteen people is not enough to do something like this… The boy in the coma… This is his doing.”

“Fourteen?”

“There’s fourteen of us…” Ten said, smiling sadly, “That’s all that remains.”

“How many did you start with?”

“There used to be fifty subjects. Most of them died from the monsters in here, some of them were caught by the AI guards. Others just went missing. Now it’s the fourteen of us left.”

“That’s horrible.” Taeyong said, in a soft voice.

“That’s life…” Ten sighed and began walking forward.

He waved his hand upward and jumped up and down. Several people noticed and began to wave back, but, I’m assuming, from seeing us, they immediately froze and began talking to each other. Ten simply kept walking forward. I looked at the other two and nervously smiled.

“They don’t look very happy to see us.” I mumbled softly, so Ten wouldn’t hear.

“They’re probably just being cautious. This world seems dangerous.” Taeyong said.

“How did you guys end up getting hurt?” I asked, staring at their injuries.

“When I crashed, I guess,” Mark said softly, “I landed in the middle of a rat nest. There were so many… I ended up running into a wall trying to get away from them and got cut on a rock that was poking out.” He pointed to the cut above his eye. “And well, the swollen part was because I ran into the wall.” He winced.

“And you?” I asked nodding to the cut on Taeyong’s cheek.

“Ten had a blade on him… I ran into it.” He laughed sheepishly.

“Idiot…” I chuckled.

“That’s me.” Taeyong grinned and shook his head, “Where were you?” “Quite far from you guys… I think… I couldn’t really tell how much time had passed.”

“Yeah, it was difficult for us as well. By the time I’d found Taeyong it’d felt like hours had already passed.”

“You guys were also split up?”

“Yeah… But, Ten seemed to find me relatively fast.” Mark said, shrugging.

“He probably knew his way around down there.” I looked at the smaller boy up front.

“Probably-”

“Guys, c’mon!” Ten turned around a bright smile on his face.

We had reached the base of the tree and another boy was standing there waiting. He had a giant smile on his face, dimples showing deeply on cheeks. He seemed to have a gentle air about him like he was patient and kind. He had messy, dark blonde hair, with dark, but kind eyes. When Ten was within arm’s length, he threw himself onto the other boy, hugging him tightly. The boy laughed and hugged him back, and I could see tears welling in his eyes.

“You’re back.” He said in a soft, yet deep voice.

“Did you doubt it?” Ten said smiling brightly.

“Never.”

“Guys, this is Jaehyun.” Ten said, introducing us.

“And you’ve brought… Friends?”

“It’s a long story… They’re from the real world.”

“Why would you bring people back?” He asked, panic suddenly rising in his voice.

“Well, it’s not a big deal. We can send them back. Jaehyun, we can go home now.” Ten said, grabbing hold of his hand excitedly.

“Ten…” Jaehyun’s eyes widened and he sighed.

“Wh-What happened?”

“The AIs… They found it and seized it.”

“N-No… No way…”

“We tried to stop them, but we couldn’t. They almost killed Renjun in the process. I had to make a choice.” Jaehyun’s eyes were begging for forgiveness as his voice broke slightly.

“I understand.” Ten said, smiling, “You did the right thing, Jaehyun. Don’t look so worried.”

“I’m so sorry…” He sighed, looking at us.

Turning, Ten sighed and looked at us, “Looks like you’ll be here a little longer than I expected. I’m sorry but, until I can get that machine back… You’ll have to stay with us.”

I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. The entire world had been thrown upside down in a matter of a few hours, and I couldn’t even find the words to express what I was feeling. Exhaustion, confusion, absolute fear? Nothing seemed to capture all that I was feeling. I just nodded, knowing my voice would betray me and show the fear I was feeling.

“As long as you remain with us, nothing will happen to you. I promise.” Ten said, eyes locked with ours.

“I believe you.” Taeyong said softly, smiling sadly.

“Thank you…” Mark nodded.

“I’m sorry this had to happen, but we’ll gladly stay with you if you let us.” Taeyong added.

“Of course.” Ten said, smiling, “Jaehyun, this is Johnny, Taeyong, and Mark.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” He said, nodding.

“Jaehyun is good at keep track of everything.” Ten said.

“Are you the leader?” Mark asked, looking at Jaehyun.

“Oh no. We don’t really have a leader. No one’s stepped up to the job. We just function.”

“A leader would be nice, but no one has the skills.” Ten said, sighing.

We all began to walk up the stairs. With every step we took, my legs began to feel more and more like lead. I had no energy left to ask them where we were going, all I could do was follow.

“We’re taking you to the infirmary.” Jaehyun said, looking back at us.

“Thank god.” Mark laughed, the exhaustion starting to show on his face.

“You’ve been through a lot it seems.” He said, smiling gently at us.

“Not as much as you.” I said without really thinking, but he stopped in his tracks, staring at me.

“That’s very kind of you.” He said, tilting his head and letting out a soft hum.

“Y-You’re welcome.” I said slightly flustered.

We kept walking up the steps, and at the third and final platform, we walked off onto it. I noticed that no one seemed to be around. It was eerily quiet, except for the sound of the surrounding wilderness. The sun had finally set by this point, and the inky blue sky was starting to glow with stars that were showing themselves. I was in awe, staring upwards at the sky- it was beautiful.

“This is it.” Ten said, leading us into a cabin.

It was well furnished- with things you wouldn’t expect to be in a forest. At the end of the room, a monitor screen was hooked up to a boy who lay on a bed, with a ventilator over his mouth. I stared at him, confused. The boy had rounded features and light brown hair, he seemed to be a little younger than me, but there was something about him. His features seemed expressionless.

“Isn’t this the forest?” Mark asked, staring.

“I told you, it’s a dream… Things don’t have to make sense.” Ten said, softly.

“That’s-”

Ten looked at me and nodded before I could finish. He walked towards the bed and I followed. I stared at him and a sort of sadness filled me. I glanced sideways at Ten, wondering how he was. He had a fond look in his eyes and glanced at me. He smiled and sighed.

“Yeah… This is him.”

“How is he here?”

“Don’t ask me… There are some things that even I don’t really understand. All I know is this is really his body.”

“Ten… I have a question.”

“Hm?”

“If he gets hurt-”

“We’ll probably die.”

“Right…”

“If his brain is damaged any more in any way… This world will cease to exist. Brain activity doesn’t occur in coma patients but… Some of them can dream, which scientists still don’t know how to explain. There was once when his ventilator got loose, and he wasn’t getting oxygen… The world literally began crumbling all around us. It was a close call.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“It was… But, that’s not why I take care of him. But it is another incentive to make sure he stays safe, but…” He trailed off, lost in thought.

“Will he ever wake up?”

“Maybe. I really hope so… When we find a way out, he can be brought to a real doctor.” Ten said, looking at me, tears present in his eyes, “They’ll know what to do… And even if they don’t, he’ll get the proper care he deserves.”

“You said he was your best friend.”

“He is my best friend. He’s still there… I know he is.”

“What’s his name?”

“Kun.”

“Guys, you should get some rest.” Jaehyun’s voice brought me back to the present.

I nodded, suddenly extremely aware again of the tiredness and pain I was feeling.

“You should probably wash up first. Get those cuts cleaned as well.” Jaehyun commented.

“Probably.” Taeyong yawned.

Wistfully, I looked at the clean beds and nodded. Cleaning up now would be a good idea. A hot shower to clean all the blood and dirt and grim off me sounded heavenly. Jaehyun led us towards the back of the medical cabin, where there were showers. He opened a cupboard, getting out three towels and handing them to us. He also found some extra clothes: three plain, white shirts and three brown shorts, in sizes as best as he could match to us.

“After you’ve showered, you should definitely get some well-deserved rest.”

“Thank you, for showing us all this kindness.” Taeyong said.

“Thank you for getting Ten back to us safely.” Jaehyun’s eyes softened and he nodded to us, “I hope you sleep well.” He turned and nodded to Ten then left the room.

“Get showered. Then rest. You’ll have plenty of time to explore later.”

“Thank you again, Ten.” I said, sighing.

“Not a problem.”

We all got into the individual showers and began washing ourselves off. The hot water hit my back and I swear I could’ve fallen asleep right there. The cuts on my hands and knees stung but I knew they were being cleaned so I could bear with it. When I finally felt clean, I grabbed the towel and dried myself off, then wrapping it around my waist, walked out of the shower and pulled the fresh clothes on. It felt so good to be clean and washed.

I walked over to the beds and saw Mark and Taeyong already fast asleep. Although I was tired, I wanted to smell the clean air again, so I walked out of the cabin and to the edge of the platform, leaning against the railing that was there. The wind rustled my hair, and I realized that rain was falling gently. I looked at the sky, the stars were faded by a thin veil of clouds that blurred them. The sound of rain pattering against the leaves, while crickets chirped away, and owls hooted every now and then, although foreign and strange to me, was extremely comforting. I felt calm and peaceful for the first time since I’d woken up in the psych classroom…

It was almost laughable. How far away that felt now… How very odd and strange to think that just a few hours ago my biggest concern was my grade…

I let out a short laugh, sadness beginning to overwhelm me. What if I was never able to go home again? What if this is how we had to live forever? What if we’d spend the rest of our lives running? All of it would be my fault. I’d gotten Taeyong and Mark into this mess too… I gripped the railing tighter, ignoring the sharp stings of pain I felt in my hands, frustration and confusion pulsing through me. Was this even real?

I felt a hand on my back, and I turned my head to see Ten.

“Oh… Hey.” I said, quietly.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“I just wanted to listen…” I nodded outwards.

“Yeah, I get that… It’s beautiful to just listen to the world.”

“Yeah…”

“But, that’s not all, is it? Something’s bothering you.”

“I just… I feel so stupid. If it hadn’t been for me, Mark and Taeyong wouldn’t be here.”

“Trust me, Johnny… Guilt can kill a person. You’re better off accepting their forgiveness. They would never hold this against you.” He rested his forearms against the railing and leaned forward slightly.

“How do I just forgive myself?”

“You won’t… Not for a long time. I think you have to find it in yourself. You have to learn that… It’s okay to make mistakes and that we’re all going to make them. Sometimes, our mistakes make us better people.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You’d be kidding yourself if you thought there wasn’t one person in the world who didn’t have regrets… Or guilt…” His voice heavy.

“You seem to have a lot knowledge, for a kid that is.” I smiled, nudging him gently.

“Just cause you’re an old man, doesn’t mean we all are.” He said, grinning slightly.

A secondary feeling of guilt washed over me, “I’m sorry… For what happened today.”

“I told you. I forgive you. I would’ve had to come back anyway. Truth is Johnny, I was scared to come back. I was scared that more of my friends might’ve died… The people here, this group we’ve formed, they’re like family to me. Without them, I’d be nothing. The thought that any single one of them could’ve died… It terrifies me.”

“That makes you a good friend.”

“Some would say that makes me foolish.”

“Not me.”

“Then that would make you foolish.” He grinned.

“Who said I wasn’t.” I smiled back.

He turned and looked at me, eyes shining in the darkness. He looked like he wanted to say something important, so I faced him as well.

“I want to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“You have all the choice in the world, if you three want to leave tomorrow morning, you’re more than welcome. However, I… I really do think all of us could benefit if you decided to stay. We’d have more people and you’d have a safe place to stay.

“I’m sure the boys feel the same way. I know I do.”

“Then… Don’t just stay… Become part of the group.” As an afterthought, he said, “You’d all make great additions.”

“Become part of Neo… Uh, what was it?”

“Neo Culture Technology.” Ten said, smiling.

“You really sure you want us? What about the rest of your group.”

“It’s a resistance, Johnny. We’re fighting the injustice we’ve experienced. No matter what, we’ll always accept those who are willing to fight. Those willing to try.”

“I can’t speak on behalf of Taeyong and Mark, but… I’ll join.”

“Good.”

Ten stuck his hand out and I stared at him for a second. He smiled, and I smiled back. I gripped his hand tightly and shook it. As we let go, he sighed gently.

“Welcome to Neo Culture Technology, Johnny.”

“Glad to be here…”

“You should get some sleep.” He said, patting my back, “I’m gonna head to my room. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

As Ten walked away, I looked back out at the scene in front of me. If this was what life chose to give me, then I would take it and work with it. There was no saying what Taeyong and Mark would do, although deep down I knew they would stay, I, for sure, was going to stay and fight for as long as I was needed. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. Opening my eyes again and staring out at the horizon, I smiled slightly.

“NCT, huh?”

#g.docx #g.writing #mine #just a dream.docx #nct #nct au #nct fic #nct fanfic #that's all i'm gonna tag this with hhh #i really hate over tagging #long post

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