#to be fair it's his fault for indulging her. unknowingly. but he is indulging her. you should never indulge claire swanson

[hsslilly-blog]

claire should be allowed to engage in psychological warfare against hunt. and my god if she isn't the greatest psyop of them all

[prolestariwrites]

Ashes [Chapter 1] by lickitysplit

Fandom: Resident Evil Characters: Jill Valentine/Carlos Oliveira Rating: M (Mature)

Summary: A year after the destruction of Raccoon City, Jill is ready to put the past in the past and get back to her life. When she and Chris are recruited to go after Wesker, it seems like the perfect opportunity... until she's partnered with the last person she ever wanted to see again.

Read below or on AO3 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Jill jumps when a hand presses to her arm, and she swings her gaze from the window. She relaxes immediately when she registers it was just Chris, slumping a bit in the back of the taxi as she catches her breath.

“You okay?” he asks, half-concerned and half-laughing.

“Yeah. Wool gathering.” She shakes herself and blinks at him. “What is it?”

“Just wanted to check,” he says. “You seem nervous.”

Jill chuckles a bit to hide her nerves that are very much on edge. “Nah,” she scoffs, shifting in her seat to adjust her seatbelt.

“I get it if you are. I mean it’s not every day we meet with the feds.”

“Maybe for you,” she laughs, “but I saw plenty the past eight months or so. No big deal.”

Chris’ lips press together in that look he gets when she makes light of Raccoon City. But he nods and turns to look straight ahead as the taxi weaves through the traffic. “Still…”

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Jill says, keeping her tone light. “You’ve been meeting every official who’s crawled out of the woodwork. This should be a cakewalk for you.”

“County, yeah. State sometimes. But the DOJ?” Chris shakes his head. “This is gonna be big. I can feel it.”

Jill folds her arms and turns to look out the window again. He’s probably right; Chris usually is.

The taxi pulls up outside of a slick-looking office complex, and Chris pays the fare as Jill climbs out. She holds her hand up for shade against the late morning sun that is reflected brightly off the windowed stories. “Looks like something the feds would waste money on,” she comments after he joins her on the sidewalk.

Chris chuckles before giving her a nudge. “Let’s go.”

They pass through metal detectors that are set off by Chris’ weapon, which he surrenders at reception while they present their ID’s. Jill eyes the Glock almost longingly as it is tagged and set inside a locker, scowling a bit as Chris is handed a ticket to retrieve it later. It’s not fair that he’s been allowed to keep his weapons while she hasn’t, but that is an argument she’s been having with anyone who cares to listen for months. Not that it's gotten her anywhere.

She takes her license back from the receptionist before being pointed towards the elevators. They wait in silence until the doors open, and when they step inside Chris presses the button for the fifth floor. “Did you read the stuff I sent you on this guy?” he asks once the elevator begins to move.

“Yeah,” Jill replies. “Agent Donner, DOJ, blah blah. Probably wants to ask us about everything again, like we haven’t told them everything we know about Umbrella a thousand times.”

Jill can practically feel him give her a side-eye, which does little to help her already dampened mood. “Maybe not.”

“If it was just you, maybe not. But all I’m good for now is giving blood samples apparently. Can’t let the bioweapon have a badge.”

Her tone is harsh, and she hates taking it out on Chris. It’s not his fault that he’s been allowed to keep working, now reporting to the county since Raccoon City is gone. But it still stings that whatever powers-that-be that still exist won’t trust her to come on full time as an agent. Nobody knows Umbrella more than the former S.T.A.R.S. team, and as one of the surviving members, it’s beyond frustrating that she’s the only one not allowed to actually do anything.

The elevator dings and they step into another reception area. The secretary offers them something to drink before heading down a hallway, leaving them to wait. Jill examines the pictures on the wall, most of which are group photos of recruitment teams by year, alongside a handful of formal portraits of agents in dress attire. A pang presses sharp into her stomach, thinking of the similar memorial wall in the police station. Do all law enforcement groups have such traditions? Jill had never thought to wonder before.

“Agent Redfield!” They both turn as a man enters from the hallway, walking over to shake Chris’ hand. “I’ve heard so much about you. Welcome.”

“Thanks.”

“And Miss Valentine,” he continues, turning to her with his hand outstretched. “A pleasure.”

“Agent Valentine,” she corrects as she returns the shake.

He clears his throat. “Of course. Henry Donner. Let me show you where we’ll be meeting.”

They exchange a glance before following Donner down a long hallway. At the end is a meeting room, and conversation stops as they are introduced to a handful of other agents. Two are also from the Justice department, one from FEMA, and the final one is an FBI agent. It annoys her how Chris seems impressed, taking a seat quickly once the introductions are done.

“Do you need anything? Coffee?” Donner offers.

Chris declines but Jill decides to get to the point. “Why are we here?” she asks.

Donner clears his throat. “As you can imagine, the United States government is interested in finding all responsible parties for the unfortunate incident in Raccoon City. The FBI and the Department of Justice have been working closely together to track down the former executives of Umbrella, as well as information on any and all scientists who were knowingly or even unknowingly working on bioweapons.

“The search is going well,” he continues. “We’ve taken dozens of people into custody, and thankfully many former employees of Umbrella have come forward to volunteer information.” Donner glances around the room. “However, the investigation is not moving as quickly as the department, or even the president, would like. That’s why we’ve asked you here.”

Jill sighs. This seems like another afternoon of questions going hours on end, and she tries to think of a way to shut it down quickly. “What do you want exactly?”

“Your help, Miss— Agent Valentine,” he replies with a little wink.

Jill narrows her eyes as Chris quickly interjects, “We’ve given dozens of interviews. They’ve been recorded and on tape, we’ve handed over everything we know from our investigations. What more can we give you?”

“Agent Shields?” Donner prompts.

The one from the FBI stands, walking around the table as he carries a folder. “We’re prepared to bring you both on in an official capacity. Not as members of the department, mind—that would be impossible giving the time constraints. Rather, you would be sworn in as ad hoc agents, to assist with finding one particular suspect.”

Shields lays the folder down in front of Chris, and he opens it as he moves it so Jill can also see. Her eyes go wide as they fall on the picture paperclipped to the front cover. “Wesker?” she asks in confusion, looking up.

“He’s dead,” Chris argues. “He was killed in the Arklay Mountains.”

“We have reason to suspect he is alive,” Shields replies.

There is a moment of silence as Jill absorbs the information. Wesker, alive? Images of the mansion and the last time she had seen him form a grotesque slideshow in her mind. “That bastard,” she mutters. “He started this. He’s behind all of this.”

“How do you know he’s alive?” Chris demands.

“There’s intelligence the federal government has received that he’s been spotted overseas,” Donner replies. “I can’t indulge too much, but his identity was confirmed via DNA. Only…” He clears his throat, glancing at the other agents. “There were markers in his DNA that indicate some kind of mutation. We’re working with FEMA and the CDC to identify exactly what and how he has mutated, and there is suspicion that it’s an ongoing condition. Which is why we must find him, and fast. There’s no telling what he has, and what he can spread.”

Donner glances at her, and Jill’s face heats. “If he was infected with something, you’d know it,” she says. “It’s not like the infected were hard to miss in Raccoon City.”

“We know it’s not the T-virus,” the FEMA agent interrupts.

“It’s a yet-unidentified strain,” Donner continues. “Further intelligence from other Raccoon City survivors confirm at least one other Umbrella strain exists, known as the G-virus. Whatever is in Wesker, it’s neither of those, as we have samples of both.” He nods at Jill before saying, “You have antibodies from the vaccine you were given, as does Sherry Birkin, another survivor who had been inflicted with the G-virus. But we can’t say for sure that Wesker has such a precaution. And until we know for sure, we need him in custody, or else the entire world is at risk.”

Jill’s heart pounds as she looks back down at the file. Finally, a chance to do something, get the hell out of the lab and her cramped apartment where she’s under near-constant surveillance. A smile curls on her lips as she thinks of finding Wesker and bringing him in, right after she puts her foot right up his ass.

“So you’re sending us to find Wesker?” Chris asks. “Why us?”

She resists the urge to poke him. “Do you want to do this or not?” she hisses.

“Of course I do. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on Wesker since that damn mansion.” He frowns at Donner. “You have every agent probably looking for him. So why us?”

“Chris.”

“It’s a fair question,” Donner says. “Truth is, we’ve been chasing him for well over a month. There’s just not enough information to get a lock on him. We can’t predict his movements, and with almost everything from Umbrella now destroyed, we’re fumbling in the dark trying to guess his associates, his contacts, find his safe houses.”

Shields leans against the table and taps on Wesker’s picture. “You two worked with him. You know him, his movements, how he thinks. We’re confident if we put you in the field, you’ll be able to identify the right movements for the department.”

Jill is nearly vibrating with excitement. “You’re going to deputize us then?”

Donner nods, and Jill grins, giving Chris an elbow. “Come on, Redfield, don’t you want to partner with me again?”

He gives her a wry look, but Donner shakes his head. “You won’t be partnering together. That was the original plan, but things have changed.”

Jill’s brows go up as Chris looks unconvinced. “What changed?”

“New intelligence points to Wesker making contact with an arms dealer,” Shields explains. “Seems like he’s running out of cash and needs to sell a few secrets. Problem is, we don’t know which dealer.”

“We’ve narrowed it down to two,” Donner finishes. “You’ll both be sent on recon with an escort. Interpol is also interested in securing Wesker, and we’ve been given additional support from the UN to find him.”

Now even Jill is impressed. “Interpol? Really?” She decides she doesn’t care what Chris says; this is too good to pass up. “I’m in. I’ll do it.”

“Me too,” Chris agrees, closing the file. “Finding Wesker is what’s important.”

“Great!” Donner rubs his hands together as he stands. “Let’s get started then. You’ll need to fill out some paperwork, get briefings, and we’ll take care of onboarding this afternoon. Follow me.”

They say their goodbyes and follow Donner out again, who takes them back towards the elevator. “Oh, wait here,” he says once they return to the reception area. “I need to get a few things. Then I’ll take you down for processing.”

As soon as they are alone, Jill turns to Chris with eyes wide with excitement. “Can you believe this?” she whispers. “The fucking FBI is sending us on a mission. We’re working with fucking Interpol. Can you believe this?”

“No,” Chris chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is the last thing I expected. I mean, can they do this?”

“It’s the government, they can do whatever the hell they want.” Jill sighs, her eyes closing briefly. “Finally, I’m going to get back to my life. I’ve been sitting around for months as they’ve poked and prodded and ran every test on me, and even with a clean bill of health they still won’t let me go back to police work.” Jill smirks to herself, folding her arms. “Bet that county sheriff is gonna eat his words now. Not cleared for duty my ass . Can’t wait for the prick to find out I’m an FBI agent now.”

Chris gives a snort as Jill enjoys her moment of smugness when Donner returns. “Perfect timing! Your partners just finished their own briefing, let me introduce you—Redfield, this is—”

But Jill doesn’t hear the rest, because as she turns, her smile melts into surprise when she sees Carlos Oliveira standing in front of her.

He looks exactly the same, without the blood and grime. Same curly hair that is way too long and falling into his eyes; same dark eyes that remind her of a puppy dog, eager and bright; same build, tall and broad and definitely a soldier. Her face heats as they stare at one another for a long moment until Carlos breaks into a grin. “Supercop! Are you kidding me? How are you?”

Before she can answer he sweeps her up into a hug, and Jill gives an oof as she is squeezed tightly against him. His arms are solid and his grip is strong as he presses his cheek to hers, but Jill is in too much shock to return the embrace. When he finally releases her, he keeps his hands pressed to her arms, smiling wide as he looks her up and down. “Thought they were messing with me. I can’t believe it’s really you! You look great!”

Jill stammers, “C-Carlos? What are you doing here?”

She looks around for an answer. Chris and the other guy are chatting, but Donner gives a nod. “I thought it would be a good idea partnering the two of you,” he says. “Oliveira’s been working with the UN in establishing protocol for viral outbreaks around the world.”

“I’m a liaison,” Carlos grins. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

“But you…”

She shakes her head to clear it, not even sure what to say. Thankfully, Carlos releases her arms, turning to Chris with his hand outstretched. “Redfield. Heard a lot about you. Nice to meet you, man.”

“Uh, same,” Chris answers awkwardly, glancing at Jill. “You’re the one that rescued Jill in Raccoon City, right?”

“I rescued him,” she mutters.

“Yeah, supercop here saved my ass more than a few times.” He pats the other man on the shoulder. “You teaming up with Nathan here? That’s awesome.”

“But what are you doing here?” Jill asks, louder this time.

All four men look at her. She can feel the color blooming on her neck, but she refuses to be the first to glance away. She had not gone through all the shit from the past year and a half, hell the past ten years : surviving the army, putting up with every comment and remark when training for Delta Force, fighting and clawing her way to prove that she was more than a girl with a gun, surviving a zombie apocalypse and a damned nuclear bomb to be ignored now.

“Well?” she demands.

“What do you mean?” Carlos laughs. “We’re partners again. Ain’t that great news?”

Partners. With Carlos Oliveira. The last man on Earth she had ever wanted to see again.

[fandom-collective-writers]

what it means to be brave

Fandom: Ikémen Sengoku

Characters: MC and Masamune 

Genre: Angst

Potential Triggers: Stillbirth

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: 77. “I lost our child.”

Author: @ikesenrambles​ (Click to support me on Ko-Fi)

Notes: I hear writing is a decent way of coping. Right now, I myself am still grieving a recent death... While I was writing, I tried to keep how I felt in mind. I hope I was able to do your request justice. This focuses more on MC and her feelings than anyone else... I hope that’s alright with you.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

A teardrop.

You didn’t even feel it form, but now your vision’s blurring. Prickling at the corners of your eye, trickling down the side of your ruddy cheek... Kojuro reaches for your hand tentatively in a useless effort to comfort you, but you don’t even feel the warmth of his skin - just the sudden cold of the crisp spring breeze setting in your bones.

Before you know it, the child is lifted out of your arms. You clutch onto his little hand desperately, your face finally lifting to meet the medic’s regretful gaze. He gulps, the words not quite reaching his lips, as you stare up at him despairingly, your trembling fingers curling around the child’s arm. A single word falls pleadingly from your mouth: “Please.”

“Princess--” Kojuro interjects, choking on his own words. “It’s… no use…--”

Your fingers fall limply from the child. “My baby boy…” you whisper helplessly. “Baby boy, please... don’t tell me there’s nothing I can do for you…”

The glow of morning light floods your sight, streaming in through the paper of the shoji windows. As songbirds sing and hummingbirds hum in the world outside, the wind carries with it their gentle song.

It’s a perfect day. A perfect, beautiful day… befitting for the birth of a little prince. But despite it all, you are shrouded in darkness. 

“I’m sorry--” are the last words you hear before the world fades away and gives way to nothingness. From the open window, you see butterflies flutter; flowers bloom in the garden. Staring into the face of your stillborn child, you wonder… how could this world still bear to turn while it was crumbling all around you?

***

Spring is beautiful, is it not? Everything is flourishing around you. Baby birds learn to fly; fawns take their first steps. Children laugh and dance, and couples kiss and hold hands. You should feel happy, right?

And yet, all of it fills you with sorrow when you step out on that veranda, alone. The peaceful stillness of the earth is deafening; the quaintness of springtime makes you feel sick. 

Outside, the wind rustles the sakura trees, sending petals to their graceful cascade and gentle landing, to their slow decomposition and ultimate death on the muddied dirt.

You clutch the sliding door with a heavy heart as you stare emptily ahead of you. It’s been weeks since, but it feels like yesterday... and every day grows harder still.

Your hand instinctively moves to your stomach - your face contorts in pain when you feel the emptiness there. “This is where we were supposed to play,” you whisper to no one, fingertips now digging into your flesh as you gaze at the open space before you. A bitter laugh escapes your lips; the sadness in your voice sounds infinite against the silence of the night. “Your father and I were so excited to meet you…”

Then, turning away from the door, you walk back into the shadows of your bedroom.

It’s not fair for you to indulge in spring’s beauty when neither your son nor your husband is at your side.

***

And soon enough, the day is here. The Date are returning from war.

Everyone in the castle is stirring, rushing to make banquet preparations, to welcome their loved ones back from the long and arduous battle, to mourn the fallen.

You had hardly left your room, ashamed of the news that you bear. After the stillbirth, you had insisted that no one inform Masamune of it as to not affect his performance on the battlefield. After all, the only thing that could be worst than losing your child, is losing both your child and his father.

“Kitten,” his deep voice calls unknowingly into the emptiness of your chambers. There you are again, staring quietly out at the veranda, hugging your knees to your chest. The weight of his hand feels unbearable when he soothingly places it on your back, tracing it along your spine before collecting your hair over one shoulder. “What’s wrong, lass…?”

Tears fill your eyes once more. Before you have a chance to turn away from him, he catches your chin and tilts your face toward his. You shake yourself out of his hold, avoiding his concerned gaze. “Masamune…” you whisper hoarsely, “I… I lost our child.”

And just like that, the world is falling apart once more...

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry...”  The thought of losing the love of your life makes you tremble; you desperately grope his arm in seek of his comforting touch once more.

“-- It’s not your fault,” he reassures you in a gentle voice. “It has never, ever been your fault...”

He says the words that everyone else says, but even coming from your husband, they do little to put you at ease. All of it... no matter who it’s coming from, whether the retainers or the maids or the medic or even your husband himself... it all feels insincere...

Perhaps it’s just you. Perhaps it is sincere, and you just don’t feel right being cared for like this right now. No matter what they thought... it doesn’t change a damn thing. Because at the end of the day, you blamed yourself for it all.

“Everyone keeps telling me that I’m strong... is that true, Masamune--?” you ask bitterly, biting back more tears. 

You shake your head at your own words, your voice breaking into a stifled sob. Bloodshot - weeping, weary. There are no words that can describe the piercing pain in your heart, nor speak of the sadness in your regretful eyes. Your tired eyes fill with tears once more as he stares at you. For the first time in his life, he looks as though he’s afraid you just might shatter in his arms.

“--if that’s true… if that’s true, then… why couldn’t I save him?”

Masamune says nothing, just pulls you tight against him, his body fitting to yours. Tears fill his own eyes as the two of you seek comfort in one another’s embrace under the moon’s cold, unforgiving stare. The wind feels so much harsher on nights like this.

“You’re the toughest woman I know…” he tells you, pressing his lips to your hair in a delicate kiss. “I know that you’re a fighter... That’s what I love about you,” he whispers. “But this time, you have to stop fighting.”

Tears blur your vision once more, but you only feel his embrace tighten as he holds you closer. “Masamune--”

“You did all that you could, my brave warrior woman.”

[platonicone]

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 15 - A vision without vision

Are you pursuing happiness or avoiding pain? I wonder…

“No, but Gentiana said that he is in Lestallum now so it is only a matter of time.”

“Good,” he said and then extended his arm to turn on the radio and put on a new station so he doesn’t have to talk.

After a while, they stopped at the Old Lestallum outpost to finish their chores.

Squall returned with hot coffee and bagels. “Thought you would be hungry,” he offered, handing over a cup of coffee to her. “Sorry, they did not have anything vegetarian here so we would have to settle for this," he added, after sitting in the car.

‘Even after we fought, he is still concerned about my hunger? I am so stupid I should have never said that. After all that he has done for me, I called him a cold-blooded monster. He has cared for me more than even Noctis has, and yet I have hurt him with my words.’ She thought while still holding the cup in her hand.

“Something wrong with the coffee?” he asked, as he noticed she was not drinking it.

“Oh, nothing. Sorry, I was just lost in thoughts. Thank you for this," she acknowledged politely.

He nodded and continued driving. Once again silence filled the car. For the first time since they met, they felt like a stranger to each other. They were passing through a very scenic view, but neither of them could enjoy it. Lunafreya buried herself in her book while Squall listened to the sound of silence.

Her words kept playing in his mind and it hurt.

“I’d rather be dead than be a cold-blooded monster like you. You are nothing like Noctis. You will never replace him.”

‘I was a fool to change. I was right all along to shut off people and guard my heart. If you never open up, you never get hurt. Nothing lasts in this world. It feels great to have friends who believe in you and friends you can rely on. That's why it's so dangerous, especially if you become used to it. Someday you're bound to lose everything. Everyone around you will be gone. Then what are you left with? Nothing. Nobody. It's so miserable. And it's inevitable. It's so hard to recover from something like that. I never ever want to deal with that again. I can't. Even if it means being alone.’

After a prolonged silence, she kept away her book and broke the ice, “Squall, how was she?”

Squall knew exactly who Lunafreya was referring to. “She is,” he corrected.

“I am sorry. You are right. How is she? Tell me more about her,” she urged.

Squall wasn’t sure why she wanted to know about her, but decided to indulge her regardless. “She is beautiful, charming, charismatic, and she is a bundle of energy. Things are never slow or dull when she is around. She is the opposite of me; very bold and confident. She always wears her heart on her sleeves. She is kind and committed to her cause. She is an angel who can love even a monster.”

More than what he said, Lunafreya was taken aback by how he said it. His expression changed. A smile graced his features. For the first time today, she saw life in his otherwise empty eyes. “She sounds wonderful.”

“That she is,” he agreed.

“Did you propose to her yet?” asked curious Lunafreya.

“Nope. Now that you have mentioned it, maybe I should do it next time I see her. God knows I’ve been away from her far too long.” Proposing to his girlfriend was supposed to be a joyous thought, yet and unknown pain tugged at his heart when he said it. Seeing him speak so fondly of her burned her heart. She knew that bring up this topic would cause her pain; however, she did not anticipate it hurting so much. She wondered if this is what jealousy feels like?

“I’ll pray that she says yes,” she faked a smile.

“Me too. She is beautiful and charismatic. She could choose anyone she wants,” he admitted.

“Unlike me,” Lunafreya muttered under her breath.

“Tell me more about Noctis,” he inquired.

“He is opposite of me, shy, timid and reserve. He is extremely loyal and loves helping people. He loves animals. He hates confrontations. I haven’t seen him in 12 years, so I don’t know how much he has changed since then,” she said thoughtfully.

“I hope you get to meet your prince soon,” he said, looking at her with his emotionless mask back on his face. Only he knew how badly it hurt just to hear Lunafreya talk about him so fondly.

He turned on the radio news station once again to avoid any further conversation.

Lunafreya grabbed the book and buried herself in it again.

‘I can keep complaining about the fact that I am not normal or I can embrace it. Normal people get to make choices which make them happy. Choices that I make affects the life of every living creature on this planet. Choosing Noctis means having the light in this world. Choosing Squall means having light for my heart, but darkness for everyone else. I cannot be so selfish as to sacrifice others’ wellbeing for the sake of my own happiness. Even if that was not the case, Squall already loves someone. Didn’t you see how fondly he speaks of her? It is neither fair nor honorable to impose my feeling on him. Maybe Gods were right after all, perhaps Noctis is the one for me. I shall not succumb to my feelings for Squall. Noctis awaits me.’

Squall noticed that Lunafreya who had a book in her had not turned a page since their last pit stop, which was a long time ago. He glanced at the book from the corner of his eyes and noticed it was upside down. “I did not know you could read upside down.”

“I...” she did not know what to say as embarrassment took over.

The rest of the car ride was once again filled with silence. Lunafreya actually managed to focus and read through a few chapters of the book.

The sun was about to set when Squall pulled over the car to a Spelcrya Haven. Squall carried everything to Haven where Lunafreya unpacked it and set it up. Squall set up the tent while Lunafreya made food. It was a pretty standard routine now.

Outside of Squall’s compliment on the food, the rest of the dinner was very quiet. Lunafreya blessed the Haven as Squall looked at her mesmerized. Eventually, she came and sat next to him.

Squall honestly missed Lunafreya’s constant chirping, and she too missed hearing his voice and seeing his expression. It was strange that they sat next to each other yet they missed each other so much.

She looked at Squall and found him staring at the fire. His face was devoid of any emotions. She couldn’t help but blame herself for this situation.

“I may be a saint for many, but I am also a sinner for I have hurt you. I am no fool Squall, I can see how much pain I have caused you.”

“Am I that easy to read?” he said, running his hand through his hair. “My job was to protect you; it is as simple as that. All other complications are my own creations. It is not your fault at all.”

“Stop taking all the blame. You didn’t know my limits, but I did and I still fell for y...” she realized her voice was breaking. “Doing something wrong unknowingly is a mistake, but doing it in spite of knowing that it’s wrong is a sin.” She was fighting hard to hold back the tears, but her voice started cracking.

“Since when did caring for someone became a sin?” he asked, pocking a piece of wood in the fire.

She had no response to that.

“I am destined to be with someone else and so are you. The closer we are to each other the more it would hurt when we are apart,” she confessed, staring at the flames. “Everything was so much simpler before you came in.”

“I am sorry. Your life is complicated as is and it seems that I just made it a lot worse,” Squall said, playing with the fire in front of him and within.

“All you did was care for me. You don’t have to apologize for that,” Lunafreya reassured him.

“Then why does it feel so wrong to care for you now?” he asked.

Once again, she had no answer. She cast her eyes down in defeat.

“Maybe it would be better if I kept my distance from you,” he proposed, silently hoping that she would disagree.

She did not say anything in response. She brought her legs closer to her chest, wrapped her hands around them and laid her head on her knees. She looked so small, vulnerable, and innocent. All he wanted to do was to hug her and tell her everything was going to be okay, but he couldn’t. She was in front of his eyes, yet she was so far from him.

“I feel lightheaded, I need to sleep,” she announced, before getting up and leaving for the tent. Squall sat there alone, wondering where did it all go wrong.

After a couple of hours, he retreated to their tent. He lay there with eyes closed waiting to succumb to sleep. He figured sleep would be the only way his rampaging mind would turn off after everything that has happened today.

His eyes were starting to get droopy when he heard Lunafreya shuffling. She said something in her sleep, which he couldn’t hear. A few minutes go by before she turned around again. He turned on his cellphone light to check on her to make sure she was okay. She murmured something again, so he sat up, being concerned for her.

Suddenly, Luna screamed, “Leon.” She sat upright.

Within a blink of an eye, Leon rushed to her side. All their fights, all their talk about keeping their distance, and commitment to push each other away went out of the window. “I am right here. Luna, are you okay?” he said, kneeling next to her. She was shivering, her breathing was shallow, and she said in a frantic voice, “Leon? Leon, are you all right?”

Her concern was evident from her voice. She was sweating and seemed extremely scared. She rubbed her hand all over his face like a blind person trying to feel something. She looked at him to make sure that he was real and he was there. She rubbed her hand on his chest to check if he was okay.

Still not convinced of his wellbeing, she asked, “Are you hurt?”

“I am fine, Luna. What is going on?” he asked, trying to calm her down.

She let out a big sigh of relief. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her. “Stay close to me. I am scared.”

Leon reluctantly sat next to her, leaned against the tent wall, and placed his hands around her shoulders to comfort her. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yes, it was terrifying. It felt so real that I got scared. I wasn’t sure if it was a vision, a nightmare or reality,” she said still trembling.

“It’s okay. It was only a dream. Nothing to be afraid of,” he reassured her.

“I saw that you died,” she revealed, on the verge of crying.

Leon rubbed his hand on her back, trying to calm her down.

“You died in front of my eyes and I couldn’t do anything.”

Leon grabbed bottle water from nearby and gave it to her. She drank a couple of sips before returning it to him.

“I don’t know where we were. I was lying on the ground and you were standing next to me. Suddenly, someone clad in black appeared behind you. As I looked at her, a faint red light started emanating from her. The red light shimmered in front of her for a moment and then in a flash, it spread all around her. She raised her hand, and the light swirled around her body and reached her hand and then to her fingertips. All the light was condensed into a single point and blue-colored ice crystal emerged from it. It grew rapidly and its shape stretched and twisted, transforming itself into a long spear of ice crystal. She then lowered her arm and hurled the ice crystal at you and it hit you right in the chest,” she narrated, placing her hand on his chest right where it should have hit him.

“The ice crystal spear was so sharp that it impaled your body and protruded from the back. You gasped and tried to breathe, but you were in so much pain and anguish. The force of the impact knocked you back, and you fell to the ground, with the ice spear still embedded in your chest. When I saw you fall, I panicked and screamed your name. I guess that’s when I woke up.” She relayed her nightmare to him.

“I was scared, Leon. I was so so scared,” she confessed, wrapping her hand around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder.

Leon patted the back of her head to calm her down. “It was just a dream. Nothing happened to me. I am fine,” he tried to reassure.

“You don’t get it Leon; I don’t get dreams, I get visions. Was it a vision of the past or the future, I don’t know. I don’t want to lose you, Leon. I can’t lose you,” she professed, sobbing in his arms. He stroked her head gently, “Don’t worry, I am not going to leave you.”

‘Yet.’ His mind added silently.

She cried her heart out and he let her. He sat there holding her and comforting her. They stayed like this for a long time. Even without realizing they fell asleep still clutching on to each other tightly as if their life depended on it.

The sun had long been out, but they slept in peace. Leon was the first one to wake up. He saw that Luna was still sleeping in his arms. He closed his eyes again, thinking it was a dream. He woke up after a few minutes and still found her in the same position.

“Someone punch me now, because pinch is not enough for this one,” he said, to no one in particular.

His words seem to have woken her up. She opened her eyes laboriously and found herself in Leon’s arm. She said with eyes still half-closed, “Is this is a dream or a nightmare?”

He gently pushed her off and sat up.

“What happened last night?” she asked, sitting up, still rubbing her eyes. Her throat was bone dry so she grabbed the bottle next to her and took at a big sip.

“We fought all day yesterday, then decided to stay away from each other, you were scared by a nightmare and then we ended up sleeping together--” he summarized the whole day’s event in a nutshell.

She choked on her water and ended up spitting out water. She spread a mouth full of water all over Leon’s face in comical fashion upon hearing the words, ‘we ended up sleeping together.’

She quickly looked down to check her clothes, and it further verified that Leon did not mean what he just said. Looking at his expression, she figured he had still not caught on to what he just said either.

Leon’s face was dripping with water. If looks could kill, she would be six feet under by now.

“I am sorry,” she apologized, squinting one eye and raising her hands defensively.

Leon grabbed her scarf and wiped his face with it.

“Hey, that’s my scarf!” she yelled, trying to yank her scarf back from him.

“That’s your water on my face,” he pointed, tugging the scarf back and cleaning his face.

“Give it back.” She pulled on it again, but his grip was too strong. He tugged back forcefully this time, and she fell on him. She was back into his arms, a position which was awkward yet extremely comfortable at the same time. If they could freeze time, they wouldn’t mind being in this moment forever.

“We should get ready,” Leon said nervously, gently pushing her off.

“Yes,” she affirmed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ears.

They grabbed their necessities and walked to the closest water body nearby. Even though they didn’t talk much, their silence was comforting for once. They took turns on guard duty, as normalcy seems to return to their routine.

Luna wore a shin-length pink dress that buttons up the front and a red bolero jacket. She had brown boots and metal bracers on her wrists and a leather belt around the edges of her jacket sleeves. She also adorned a flower necklace with a pearl in the center on a leather ribbon. A large pink ribbon held her hair in place.

Squall wore indigo pants with a sleeveless shirt and a belt. He had a dual-layered metal pauldron over his left shoulder, a brown belt with the lion symbol, brown fingerless gloves, and black boots.

After packing everything up they resumed their journey. Neither dared to speak about events from last night, so they continued their journey quietly. Eventually, Luna decided to put some music to break the long-standing silence.

High dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time Hold still right before we crash cause we both know how this ends Our clock ticks 'til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again

“Gods seem to have a peculiar sense of humor. The song is right on the nose,” she said with a facepalm à la Leon. Leon just shook his head in disbelief as the words of the song resonated with both of them.

‘These past few days have been like a roller coaster. Ever since you came, my life has been turned upside down. Things I used to fear, I enjoy it now. Things that were easy and simple are impossibly complex now. Being with you brings me immense joy and insufferable pain. I don’t know if I should embrace you because of the joy that you bring to my life or push you away because of the intense pain it brings me. The more I stay with you, the more I want to be with you and that is not possible for either of us. If we continue down this path, we know we will certainly crash, but neither of us want to get off this ride.’

Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?

Their eyes meet and everything their words couldn’t say was understood by their hearts.

‘Ever since I was a kid, I have always hated getting attached to anyone. When you get attached to someone, they become a part of your memories and your heart. So, when they are gone you not only lose them, but you also lose a part of yourself. They leave behind the lingering pain and a void that can never be truly fulfilled. I thought that if I push you away, it would hurt less when I would have to eventually leave you. But yesterday I realized that I am already attached to you, a lot more than I should, and pushing you away made me more miserable now. It is one thing to be torn apart because of circumstances, but here I was actively tearing us apart and that hurt me more than anything else. In an attempt to prevent pain in the future, I am creating more pain now.’

Walk on through a red parade and refuse to make amends It cuts deep through our ground and makes us forget all common sense Don't speak as I try to leave cause we both know what we'll choose If you pull, then I'll push too deep and I'll fall right back to you

Leon had a weary smile on his face when those lines played. They both recollected events of yesterday as the song played on.

‘I know it’s a cliché but you don’t realize the importance of something until you lose it. Yesterday, in my dream when I lost you, I realized how much you mean to me. I was scared, I got frantic, and I was losing my mind. That was not a normal reaction. Even after I woke up, I clung onto you as if my life depended on it. I realized that if I am not willing to let go of you even in my dreams, then why am I pushing you away in reality? Even though I know how this will end, the more I try to push you away, the more I fall for you.’

Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?

“Just turn off the song,” Leon suggested as it was causing too much cognitive dissonance.

“No, let it finish.” She slapped away his hand.

‘If I walk away from you, then I’ll be stuck in this unknown world. If I walk with you, then I might not want to go back to my world, because slowly but surely you are becoming my world. You are the source of my pain, yet you are the only one who can heal me. I’ll be hurt if I stay away from you and I’ll be hurt if I say with you. There is no winning in this situation. If I know I am going to lose in the end, then why am I even playing this game? Why are you playing this game? This is insanity.’

Why are you my clarity? Why are you my remedy? Why are you my clarity? Why are you my remedy? If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity? ~ Clarity by Zedd

“Knowing our future, staying with you hurts, but so does pushing you away. I don’t know what to do anymore,” Leon finally spoke up as the song ended.

After taking a deep breath Luna responded, “Everyone who is born will die someday. But does the fear of eventual death prevent us from living? Even though people know that they will die someday it does not deter them from seeking happiness, comfort, love, and passion. If anything, it is this scarcity of finite life that gives it meaning and makes every moment worth living. If we have a limited time on this earth, then why not make the best out of it? Why not make every moment count? So why should this be any different? Just because we are destined to be apart in the future does that mean we should start to stay apart now?”

“It is different because you don’t feel guilty for living your life. But this,” he said, pointing at each other, “this I feel guilty about. I don't know why, but somehow it feels wrong.”

“I concur with your thoughts. Wish as I may, deviating from my duties, feels wrong to me as well. I guess we are at an impasse now. Can’t live with each other, can’t live without.”

Author's notes:

Is Luna's dream a vision from the past or future? Any guess?

Please leave a comment if you've enjoyed the story so far. To all my ninja reads at least say 'Hi'. Thanks :)

[monochromerose]

by request: the self-indulgent fic

@heyoitskris you wanted this so :// here it is

it’s also not done but i’m p far into it so why not

You don’t exactly remember what happened. Last you knew, you had knocked out your girlfriend because… someone had possessed her. Just as she was beginning to wake up… what happened to her?

‘Your breathing and your heartbeat drown out most other sound as you stare down at her form, sprawled out on the ground and unconscious. She is littered with bruises and cuts, a few still leaking blood. You’re the one who did this to her. Are you happy? “But I had to!” You plead to thin air, knowing that you are the only one guilting yourself. Something had happened to her- it wasn’t her anymore. A being with no true name, referred only to as CHARA, had taken over her. Your only thought-your gut instinct to bring her back-only hurt her, leaving her all but dead at your feet.

A groan sounds from beneath you, and she stirs. Pushing herself up with her hands slightly, her eyes crack open and she lifts her head to look at you- then loses her grip and hits her head on solid ground. Your hands fly to stifle a gasp and you kneel down beside her, holding her arms to help her sit up. It seems to take much of her energy, and she nearly falls back, but you manage to support her until she recovers enough energy to balance again.

She mumbles an apology and tries to reach out to you, but quickly retracts her hand. Her head hangs down as she stares at her shoes, muttering indistinct words. You can only imagine she’s berating herself, like always. “It wasn’t your fault!” You try to convince her that she doesn’t need to be sorry, but she refuses to look up at you.

“It’s no use.” You can make out her words, but only barely. The phrase seems to linger in the air like fog, obscuring both of your abilities to think clearly.

“W- what do you mean?!”

“Goodbye.”

With those words, a ring of familiar objects appear around her- bullets. You recognize them. You try to pull her out of the way, but she simply smiles. The bullets strike, moving too fast for you to process, but it doesn’t matter. Her now-lifeless body falls to the ground, a red heart appearing over her.

As soon as the heart appears, it is gone, her body disappearing along with it. In its place, a flower appears. A flower with a face, and a sickening smile.

“You IDIOT. You haven’t learned a thing. In this world. . .” A spiral of hearts-no, SOULs- appears around him, each in different colors. Orange, green, teal, blue, purple, all surround him as his grin widens. Her SOUL, red, appears in front of him. You bite back a screech and attempt to swing at him, but something you can’t quite see stops you from making contact. “It’s KILL or be KILLED.” As he speaks, his face contorts into… something disturbing enough that you can’t even process. A cacophony of laughter- his laughter- echoes through the air, and as the SOULs come together towards him, your vision fades into white and you fall, unconscious, to the ground.’

The words you’ve heard so many times ring in your ears: “Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS.” Everything seemed normal enough, to you at least. You began to recite the rest of the story in your head along with it. “One day, they all disappeared without a trace.”

The discordant voice of Flowey takes over the sweet story you know, and a box appears in front of you. Your SAVE FILE. Flowey- My World. What happened to your SAVE FILE? You know what happened, of course- Flowey has taken over it.

You press ‘START’ and immediately find yourself inside a dark, seemingly endless void. The tiniest glimmer of light shines from far away- you can barely see it, but it’s still there. You begin to make your way towards it, though it seems you can’t get any closer than you already are.

You don’t exactly know how long you’ve been walking for. You’ve tried running towards it, but all that accomplishes is tiring you out faster. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and your heavy breathing seems to echo throughout the void, though it should just fade away. If your prison truly is endless like it seems, why does anything echo? Now that you’ve stopped to think about it, your footsteps do as well.

Now that you’ve realized your ‘endless damnation’ at the hands of your worst nightmare isn’t as unending as it wants to be, you stop short. The light of hope you gave up on sits right in front of you- a SAVE point. Your face lights up (though that may just be the glow of the SAVE point) and you press both hands on your star-shaped salvation.

A familiar box appears in front of you- it’s your SAVE FILE! Your actual SAVE FILE, not Flowey’s! You draw in a gasp as it comes to you: you can save over this mess! Your excitement drains, as does the color from your face, when the harsh truth sets in. Try as you might, something won’t let you save. A cracking sound fills the air, and you back away as your SAVE FILE begins to splinter into pieces.

‘FILE ERASED.’ You read the words to yourself over and over; this can’t be happening! Ah, but it is, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Once a few more seconds pass, the FILE completely shatters, and the pieces fall through the ground, disappearing into the void.

In the FILE’s place, a face that appears almost like a hologram looms above you. It’s him. Why would it be anyone else? You bite back curses and try to stop yourself from shaking, to no avail.

“Howdy! It’s me, Flowey! Flowey the flower!

I really do owe you a HUGE thanks. You really did a number on her, didn’t you?”

You clench your fists at that, but can’t force back the guilt you still harbor. This monstrosity of a villain just can’t resist pouring salt in the wound, can he? When you try to speak, to say anything, you can’t seem to form any words. It’s as if something is stopping you from speaking. In fact, it seems as though you aren’t able to form any sound at all.

“Without you, I NEVER would have been able to get her SOUL. But now, with your help…” His expression distorts into a cruel mockery of hers, and you shudder. He’s already gotten what he wants from the two of you, hasn’t he?

“She’s DEAD. And I’VE got her SOUL, and all the rest of them!” Deafening cackling rang through the room, and you cover your ears. His words are appearing below him, but that doesn’t make sense. You can hear him just fine- what would he need these apparent subtitles for?

“Boy! I’ve been empty for so long… it feels great to have a SOUL inside me again! Mmm, I can feel them wriggling…” Again, he sounds demented in his laughter, though it seems worse this time, somehow. You begin to just assume it will continue to get worse. The way he says that… it’s utterly disgusting. You suppose that’s the point, but you can’t stop yourself from cringing or turning away. Once again you try to speak, to make any noise at all, yet it seems impossible.

“Awww, you’re feeling left out, aren’t you? Well, that’s just perfect. After all, I only have six souls. I still need one more… Before I become G O D.” While you can’t make any noise, it’s safe to say you would be screeching right now if you could. Still facing away from him, you clutch your hands tight to your chest to stop them from shaking and you from attempting to charge at and punch him. You’re trembling enough (and yet also seemingly frozen in fear) that you’re certain you wouldn’t be able to hit him accurately, anyway. You try to scream, but nothing happens. You think you can feel a tear run down your cheek, but it seemingly evaporates before it runs off your chin.

“And then, with my newfound powers…”

“Monsters.”

“Humans.”

“E v e r y o n e. I’ll show them all the TRUE meaning of this world.”

“Oh, and forget about escaping to your old SAVE FILE. It’s gone FOREVER. But don’t worry. Your old friend Flowey… has worked out a replacement for you! I’ll SAVE over your own death. So you can watch me tear you to bloody pieces… over, and over, and over…”

You take in a drawn-out breath and, turning to face him, step forward. You’re still trembling, and unknowingly rocking from foot to foot, but you try to seem strong anyway. You have to defeat him. For everyone, for… for her. You bring your shoulders back and hold your head high, hoping that on some level, this feigned attempt at intimidation will work.

“…what? Do you really think you can stop ME?” He begins to cackle again, and it sounds even more demented than before, but you can’t back down now. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you ball your fists and narrow your eyes, trying to ignore that you’re shaking.

“You really are an idiot.”

The world once again goes dark, your yellow SOUL illuminating the space in front of you, if only a bit. Your body disappears (a sensation you’ve never really gotten used to), leaving just the SOUL that you have to control. Ah. So he wants to FIGHT. Fair enough, though you’re sure that with six SOULs, he’ll become even more of a monstrosity than he already is.

Cutting through the darkness, the six SOULs appear, and your heart leaps into your throat. Something about the fact that all of them are there-including hers- unsettles you to a level you can’t understand. As soon as they arrived, they seemingly blink out of existence, leaving you in the darkness.

Your vision begins to flash red, but you aren’t seeing things. The silhouette of some… monstrosity stands out against the backdrop, looming overhead. It continues to lower, and as you see more of it, it disturbs you enough that you try to scream. You have no mouth, as a SOUL, yet you must scream.

Before your (non-existent) eyes, the face of Flowey fills a small bit of the shadow’s empty space. The rest of whatever form he’s taken is still obscured, but the slit eyes fill out into blood red sclera and green… Those aren’t even pupils, are they? His maniacal grin still hasn’t left his face, which only makes the whole situation more distressing, somehow.

In an instant, the shadow is fully uncovered. You try to back away only to remember that in a FIGHT, even one as dysfunctional as this one seems to be, you can't leave. You’re nearly trapped in place, able to move, but not back. This botanical monstrosity looks as though some horrific child was given full freedom- which would make sense.

While… it is distracted in a chorus of unhinged laughter, you try to break through your utter horror to study it. Somehow, it seems attached to something through tubes and wires, and cables of sorts make six rings around the face-looking piece it has up to the screen displaying Flowey’s. Thorny vines endlessly grow outward from the middle sets of rings, which house two eyes that spin and cross. Another set of eyes lay near the bottom two rings, on a face (you think) that extends into a sideways jaw. Hands… maybe… extend from arms attached to seemingly nothing but the wires. Oh, this is not going to be good at all.

You try to move (try being the key word for this entire encounter, apparently) but find that you can’t. It’s not as though there’s something wrong with the FIGHT system (although Flowey has seemed to have completely broken it, seeing as there’s no separation between you and him), so it must be something else. A few more struggles and it clicks; this situation is terrifying enough that it’s become absolutely petrifying. You’re so occupied in your distress that you only notice the beginning of the other’s attacks when they hit you hard enough that you lose almost all of your HP.

Are… are those bullets? Wait! What about your turn? Don’t you usually go first in this type of thing? An orange circle forms on the backdrop behind you, and you snap out of your daze in time to escape it, only to be hit by the bullets thrown out of it. A few more form, and that seems to be the end of his attack. So now it’s your turn, right? Right?!

...Apparently not. How is this fair? Wait, hang on a second- are those flamethrowers?! You dodge out of the way and into the middle to avoid the, yes, flamethrowers that have appeared on either side of you, but they still take off a bit of HP. You don’t even have much left to spare, you have to focus on not dying!

Oh god damnit! What the hell is that you’re hearing? Is that… talking? Say it isn’t so. This little brat flower is taking the time to monologue when you’re about to die! Of course, it’s all standard stuff- how you were an idiot for trying to make friends, how he murdered your girlfriend, all of which only fills you with rage. In hopes of using your anger-filled adrenaline rush for good, you only become more frantic, and lose even more HP. Great.

For a moment, the barrage of ridiculously powerful attacks ceases, and you pause to look up at where you are. Right underneath that mouth… thing. Before you can move out of the way, you can hear his voice. He sounds extremely immature for his situation, though it’s what he says that makes you listen.

“Toodle-oo, kiddo! DIE.”

Before you can process what you heard, something strikes from above and wipes out the rest of your HP. You can feel, and yet somehow see, your SOUL shatter into pieces, and you hear a familiar voice as the world goes dark around you.

“This is all just a bad dream… and you’re NEVER waking up!”

Just like in the beginning, the demonic flower has hijacked your only salvation in the torture he’s putting you through. The rest of your vision fills up with written out laughter, and you hear the exact same thing, but distorting, ringing in your ears. As soon as it ends, some unseen force ejects you back into a black void, but now there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.

You never did get used to dying, but dying this way seems different entirely.

While your save is nonexistent, where it should be is a ‘PLAY’ button. Usually, when you sleep (or die) you end up in what’s now this empty void. Back then, it would be full of light, and you could make whatever you wanted happen, but there was still the threat of the ‘RESET’ button. If you ever touched that, well, its label made it obvious to you. Now you have no idea what will happen if you press ‘PLAY’ instead of ‘CONTINUE’, but you can assume it will put you right back where you were. Really, what’s the point in trying? He’ll just kill you again anyway.

You don't even exactly know how to feel about this situation. Of course, the whole thing is terrifying, but beyond that? You aren't sure how you're meant to feel. Confused, because what’s going on is utterly baffling? Angry because he killed someone you love for his own gain, and took advantage of you to do it? Even more petrified, since the horrific form he’s taken makes absolutely no sense as to how it exists or functions? You don't know, and you don't think you want to.

You begin to pace unknowingly, just trying to focus. Is there a point to going back to certain death? By the same token, though, would it be any better to waste away in the void and let him win? None of your situation makes any sense to you, and you don't think it’ll get better anytime soon. Why did it have to be you? You could have just patched her up and neither of you would be in this mess. You can only imagine what could have been…

Is dying the same, for her? You don't think she has the power to SAVE or RESET, so what is it like to die? Can she see what's happening- or worse, feel it? Being the one attacked is already bad enough; you can't imagine what it must be like to be used in that way. You felt awful enough when she died, so you don't want to think of how she feels, being forced to attack someone she loves. Heaven knows that if you get her back, she'll never look you in the eye again. Never forgive herself, either. You know her well enough to guess that.

What's the point of all this thinking? You don't even have a SAVE anymore, you have to focus on getting through this! You clench your fists and scowl, holding back a scream of frustration. This is what he wants! He wants you to give up so he can have control over the timeline!

You don't even exactly know how to feel about this situation. Of course, the whole thing is terrifying, but beyond that? You aren't sure how you're meant to feel. Confused, because what’s going on is utterly baffling? Angry because he killed someone you love for his own gain, and took advantage of you to do it? Even more petrified, since the horrific form he’s taken makes absolutely no sense as to how it exists or functions? You don't know, and you don't think you want to.

You begin to pace unknowingly, just trying to focus. Is there a point to going back to certain death? By the same token, though, would it be any better to waste away in the void and let him win? None of your situation makes any sense to you, and you don't think it’ll get better anytime soon. Why did it have to be you? You could have just patched her up and neither of you would be in this mess. You can only imagine what could have been…

Is dying the same, for her? You don't think she has the power to SAVE or RESET, so what is it like to die? Can she see what's happening- or worse, feel it? Being the one attacked is already bad enough; you can't imagine what it must be like to be used in that way. You felt awful enough when she died, so you don't want to think of how she feels, being forced to attack someone she loves. Heaven knows that if you get her back, she'll never look you in the eye again. Never forgive herself, either. You know her well enough to guess that.

What's the point of all this thinking? You don't even have a SAVE anymore, you have to focus on getting through this! You clench your fists and scowl, holding back a frustrated scream. This is exactly what he wants! He wants you to give up so he can have control over the timeline! You're playing right into his hands by staying here! The beginning of a scoff escapes your lips, and you stare down at the 'PLAY’ button, holding your hand over it.

Looks like you'll finally have to get used to dying (this way, at least) after all.

Drawing in a breath, you slam your hand down on the button and feel your body disappear again. So you thought right. It puts you right back where you were when you died, not to the SAVE that you don't have anymore. Well… at least you won't have to start from the beginning and endure all Flowey’s taunting.

You're immediately thrown into a wave of attacks- a few you don't remember, a few you do. You manage to dodge some of them (as unfair as they are), but still only have a quarter of your health left. Lovely. One of the rings above you starts… what? What's it doing? It seems to be flashing teal, and you can hear an alarm bell ringing in your ears. This doesn't make sense! What's going on?

“Huh? Why am I still doing this?”

Oh God. Not him again. Can't he just fight you and get it over with? It's not like you even asked him anything! Whatever. That shouldn't be your concern right now. What matters is getting this whole situation over. You can RESET if you have to, but if you can get your SAVE back, even better.

“Don’t you get it? This is all just a story. And we’re playing parts!”

As the world goes dark around you again, static fills your vision and your hearing. While it does go away, you find yourself in a void… with swords? Yes, swords, swing and rotate in a seeming pattern as you try to dodge (and do, somewhat.) A monitor placed at the top of your vision shows a teal SOUL on screen- so that’s what the flashing was for!

You’re so distracted that you only notice the ACT button that has made its way through the swords right after it passes you by, but you manage to press it before ‘time’ runs out. '*You called for help…’ The swords slow and the static returns to your ears, but is replaced with the beginning of a soothing melody. You begin to notice that the visible wounds in your SOUL have started to heal, and your HP- oh! The swords turned into bandages- and they’re… healing you? You aren’t going to complain.

Once again, your vision goes dark and you're overwhelmed by the sound of static, but only for a moment. As soon as it ends, you're thrust back into the FIGHT with the monstrosity. At least you have full HP now? Oh well. Even if that was just a one time thing, you have to be able to beat him eventually. He… does have six SOULs, right? So that would mean he’ll do that kind of thing five more times? But why would it heal you?

A sharp jab of pain strikes your incorporeal body, and you can feel your soul shatter into pieces. Lovely. You died even starting with full health. Time to go through that whole sequence again. Again, your vision fills with written laughter and your ears with distorted laughter. You only have a sigh in response. It doesn't even feel threatening anymore. Perhaps that's sad, but you aren't sure.

Having been forced out of the ‘world’ again, you sit in front of the 'PLAY’ button, staring out into the void beyond it. Trying to work everything out in your head hasn't done a thing, so you suppose you ought to work it out aurally. “Wait, wait, wait…” You mutter, using a hand to prop up your head so you don't fall over and pass out from exhaustion. You don't even know how long it's been since you fought her, so you can't tell why you're so tired either.

“The SOULs… he has to be using them for that form of his. And the teal SOUL- why did it heal me? If it was under his control, it never should have done that!” You use your free hand to tug at your shirt collar, hoping to distract yourself from your shaking. Although, you aren’t quite sure why you’re shaking, exactly. “He has the SOULs. He’s ‘in control’. Then why would the teal SOUL have healed me with its attacks?” You begin to fidget even more, shifting your weight, pulling at various pieces of clothing, and such to hopefully keep yourself awake.

“It doesn’t make sense… it can’t’ve gone against him, right?” You hope it could have, but you really aren’t sure. The SOULs are just that because they died, isn’t that right? You don’t understand. “It could’ve… I think.” Your words begin to slur together as your eyelids start to shut despite your attempts to stop it. Oddly enough, the empty space you’re in isn’t exactly warm or cold. It just is, really. It seems to be that if you think it’s cold, it’ll be cold, and vice versa. The temperature won’t keep you awake or put you to sleep faster, then.

Taking off your sweater to show another shirt underneath, you ball it up and rest your head on it as a sort of pillow. You’ll only sleep for a little while. That way, you’ll be more alert and less likely to fall asleep during the FIGHT when you go back to it. Besides, it feels like when you’re here, time in the ‘real world’ stops. You won’t really be missing anything, you’ll just be put back to where you were when you died the next time you press PLAY. Drawing your arms back and curling up, you let your eyelids close entirely and try to focus on breathing. You just have to sleep for a while, you’ll be fine. What feels like a few minutes passes and you begin to drift into unconscious, letting yourself sleep mostly peacefully in a panic-ridden world.

A stinging cold forces you awake, and you jolt up. What just happened? You can't exactly tell. You're glad that you woke up, though. While you can't remember all of the dream you just had, it's enough to know it was a nightmare. Even remembering it, you're not sure you want to. At least it can't be worse than your real nightmare in the actual 'world’.… Perhaps you should try to put it from your mind. Dwelling on it will do you no good, not with your current situation.

Another flash of cold makes you shiver, and you take a quick glance around you. There's no reason it should be cold, it's not like there's any… Wind. That's what it is. For whatever reason, a wind must have started up. It does a nice enough job of waking up, but you don't know how long you were asleep for. In fact, you don't think time passes at all in this place. You feel more rested, but everything looks the same as it did when you fell asleep. Of course, nothing ever really changes here, but still.

Now that you think of it, the only time there's been wind (or any change) here, you… Ah. You didn't want to realize this, but here you are. The only time it changes is when something major happens, like someone's death. It changed when she died (and when flower brat took over your SAVE) to be the empty place it is now. It's changed again, so someone must have died. He must have assumed you weren't going to come back and decided to move on to torturing everyone you left behind.

You don’t really know what will happen when or if you re-enter his SAVE. Will it send you back to the middle of the fight, the way it did the first time? Now that you think something else has changed, will it send you to another void? You aren’t sure, and part of you doesn’t want to find out. You know that you’ll have to go back eventually- you don’t want to die here, in a world where no one remembers you because there’s no one to. At the same time, though, you don’t even know if it’s worth it.

The wind echoes through… something, and you quickly take your sweater from the ‘ground’ and slip it back over your head. You think you’re awake enough to go back to the ‘real world’ now. Of course, you don’t exactly want to do it, but what other choice do you have? Huh…? The ‘PLAY’ button disappeared. You frantically turn, hoping to catch even a glimpse of it, to no avail. Curses tumble out of your mouth, catching on your tongue, and you swear you can see something out of the corner of your eye. That’s impossible! You’re the only thing… here.

Closing your eyes, you bring your arms close to your chest and thrust them out in opposite directions, your arms outstretched. You open your eyes and flinch a little, though you aren’t sure if you’re upset or anything. In front of you sits your ‘PLAY’ button. Really, you ought to go back before it disappears again. Still, though, are you really sure you want to do this? You nod in response to yourself and gingerly place your hand on the button, feeling it rip you out of your ‘timeline’.

You’re placed in the beginning of an attack- you’re used to this one by now, but it’s still not particularly easy. You try to look up in hopes of him telegraphing his attacks, but you do notice something interesting. The ring-tube-thing that was flashing teal before you were put into the SOUL’s portion- it’s been all grayed out. Unlike the other five, it isn’t pulsing, only moving slightly with the motion of the attacks. That’s… odd. No time to dwell on it, though. The attacks are beginning to seem more familiar to you, but some catch you off guard even still.

It doesn’t even really matter to you anymore. The only thing that you care about now is making everything right again. You don’t know what it will take to achieve that, and in a way, you don’t care. While the bombardment of attack patterns won’t stop for your thoughts, you still find a way to get lost in them. To you, it’s more like you’re on autopilot now. You’re just going through the motions, trying not to get hit.

Just like the teal SOUL’s ring, the ring to its right begins to flash and pulse orange. You can assume it will be similar to the former’s section, though you aren’t sure. There isn’t any visual static this time, only the sound ringing in your ears. The world goes dark around you, save the screen displaying the orange SOUL at the top, and you’re thrown into another little “mini-game”. You have to take a second to process the sight- gloved hands spiraling in circles. While you can predict the pattern well enough, the demonic flower has begun to boast. What about, you can’t tell, though you can make out some things. Such wonderful things as telling you that your death will be in vain and he’ll just enjoy killing you. It’s not something totally out of character for him, but you don’t want to listen.

You direct your SOUL into the middle of another spiral and rush into the ACT button when you see it, letting out an inaudible sigh of relief. It turns yellow for a brief moment, then disappears. ‘*You called for help…’ This time, the words appear as a text box that fills your vision, rather than just a voice in the back of your head. While you almost get hit because it blocks you from seeing the gloved hands, it soon fades from your vision. The discordant ‘song’ that you just now realize has been playing in your mind the whole time becomes a peaceful, small little melody as the hands turn green. They still spiral in their patterns, so you have to move around to collect them and replenish your HP.

The sound of static echoes through the air just as you’ve gotten about three-fourths of your HP back, and you’re set back into the middle of the “real” fight. Like the teal SOUL’s ring, the one to its right, the orange SOUL’s, is empty too. It no longer pulses, or has any color to it, only moving with what it’s attached to. That seems to be an indicator of your progress, which is… helpful? You aren’t quite sure, but you’re committed to making it through at least another of those segments without dying.

Attack. Dodge. Attack. Dodge. You’ve begun to notice a sound not unlike that of a video game’s that plays whenever you get hit by an attack, which is… odd? Of course, this entire situation seems very much like something you would see in a game- if you ever get out of this mess, you should see if anything like this has been made. Maybe you could make it on your own if there hasn’t. Really, though, you shouldn’t be letting these thoughts distract you. Even though you know the attacks rather well, you do still run into them when you aren’t careful. Most of them are downright unfair, after all.

You push your SOUL out of the way in a sudden burst of speed as a blue beam cuts through the middle of the FIGHT. What’d… what? What just happened? Somehow, you weren't paying attention. A sound rings through your ears, and it's familiar, though you can't put your finger on what it reminds you of. You swear you've- heard it before. Ah. Of course. That's the thing that killed you the first time. How lovely. It seems like he can just use them whenever he wants, though you wouldn't put it past the nature of this FIGHT.

Blue. You know the familiar shade of blue in the SOUL on screen and the ring currently flashing it. Why you know that color, you'd rather… not talk about, but you recognize it nonetheless. Dodging the last wave of attacks as the ring pulses, you clench your fists- or, as well as you can, your body being incorporeal and all. Something about this whole situation has left you feeling increasingly sick. Maybe it's because you're facing off against a human-machine-plant monstrosity. Instead, maybe the crushing guilt of your fears weighing you down. Really, you can't know for sure.

Despite your mixed feelings, the world fades to black again and you end up in the same 'minigame void’ the rest of the SOULs have sent you to. You've begun to notice the seeming reprise of Flowey’s theme playing in the background of all these 'SOUL encounters’, though they sound different. Anyway, it shouldn't really matter- you've got a fight to win! While you were taking the time to think, your SOUL has been crushed underfoot by a… ballet shoe? Oh dear.

You're trapped in a thin space between the “bottom” of the minigame void and a row of- actually, what are they? While you aren't sure, you don't think you have the time to find out. The ballet shoes start above the line and swing down in a pattern. They're still coming towards you, so they'll hit you even if you don't move. You can just barely see the orange and yellow gleam of the ACT button in place of another shoe. You take a few hits in the process, but manage to make your way to ACT and watch it fade once you interact with it. ‘*You called for help…’  

The things (you can now tell that they’re stars, since you aren’t fleeing for your life) light up green as the ballet shoes slow, shake, and disappear. Since there are “more” of them, you try to get as many as possible, and end up with almost full HP. You have a sneaking suspicion, though, that it won’t do anything to help you. Seeing as you’ve died anyway almost every time you’ve come out of one of these little mini-game segments.