#work around. like in one chapter i accidentally wrote sun frowning until i remembered their faceplate dont move lolz

[vivisols]

the future stares back is going to be so wild im including every single last trope and idea and theory on canon i have... look out

[ilguna]

Lacuna - Chapters 1-4 (f.o)

summary: they say the odds tend to favor those who need them. well, they were wrong.

warnings; swearing.

wc; 14.8k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

– 

-- CHAPTER ONE --

The sound of screaming jolts you awake, enough to get your heart racing, and the grogginess of sleep is completely erased from your mind. Your eyes search the room quickly, looking for some sort of intruder, until you realize it’s just your sister again. Awake before the rest of the house, uncomfortable because of the silence, and probably starving.

You’re not sure how it’s possible to have the same exact reaction every single time she does it. But your brain thinks the same thing without fail, that someone has just broken into the house, and you’re about to get murdered. It’s ridiculous for a couple of reasons. The first, is that they would most likely not go for the back room first. And the second is that no one gets murdered here.

If anything, everyone huddles up together, protecting each other the best they can. To turn against someone else would be ridiculous. There is no reason for murder, when two of you get picked off every single year. If anything, you should be teaming up together to get it stopped. But that would cost thousands of lives, once again.

With a yawn, you push yourself off of the bed, dragging your feet when it comes to taking care of your sister. The second you’re in sight, she seems to calm down a little bit, holding her arms up to you. You scoop her up, holding her against your chest as you shush her slightly, bouncing your steps a little more as you head into the kitchen.

No one else is home except the two of you. Reed and Mox are most likely on a boat in the middle of the water, fishing to fill today’s quota. They’ll be saving a couple for you guys later tonight, and if they come back with enough, you’re sure they’ll send you to the square to trade for bread, and anything else you’ll need for today.

You can take a guess already. It’ll be soaps and shampoos, and if there isn’t a nice enough outfit that you can find in your mom’s old wardrobe, then you will have to go out to buy a hand-me-down from the square. Alyssum--your sister--will most likely fit in to her outfit from last year, she hasn’t grown much since then. Your brothers stopped growing a couple of years ago, and they fit into your fathers pants and shirts just fine.

As you set your sister up on the floor with a little bit of soft, fresh bread, you head to your parents room. Holding your breath when you open the door, because you only come in here once a year. This will be the one time you permit yourself to look over it again. You don't’ stay for very long though, you don’t want to kneel and cry on the floor like you did two years ago. You’re terrified of the never ending onslaught of tears again.

Reed doesn’t have the same reaction as you and Mox do when you come into the room. Reed has to be the strongest, in his mind. He doesn’t want to watch as his younger siblings collapse and crumble beneath him. He lets you guys use him as a platform, and only sometimes do you get to return the favor.

You open the creaky wooden door, looking over the dresses. A frown comes over your face when you realize that last years had hardly fit. And if last year was a bust, then that means that all the others won’t be big enough either, right?

Even though you’re sure that it’ll be impossible for you to fit into any of them again this year, you pick out the biggest one. It’s the closest to the end, one you haven’t worn before because it was too big beforehand. How the tables have turn.

After you lay it over your arm, you shut the wardrobe doors and leave the room. After, you quickly lay the dress on the desk in the corner of the room. Something your father used to sit at every night as he wrote up things for the peacekeepers to send. While you’re in your room, you open up the shutters to see that the sun is higher than you thought. You’d think it to be early morning, the sky not even turning blue yet.

Quickly, you place your black flats beneath the dress, and you also lay out Alyssum’s baby clothes. By the time you’ve returned to the living room, Alyssum is finished with the bread. She chews on her favorite stuffed animal, staring off into space. Not a single care in the world.

Just as you’re deciding to change Alyssum and maybe start up the first bath of many that will happen, the door swings open. Mox is the first to appear in the doorway, hauling the cooler in his arms. When he sees you standing by the couch, he offers you a tight smile, before heading straight for the fridge.

On the other hand, Reed has a basket of bread. You’ll take a bet right now, that Mox had lost whatever game they were playing on the boat, making him carry the heavy cooler, while Reed got the lightest thing in the world. Reed shuts the door behind with his foot, and then he shuffles over to the counter, clearing the cutting board and knife into the sink to make room, before he sets it down.

“I’ve fed her.” you tell him, “And I’ve picked out her outfit and everything. Do I have to run down to the square for anything? Soaps?”

Mox groans out a complaint as he struggles to lift the cooler again. Reed chuckles, smirking at him, before he turns to you, “No, I got them early this morning before anyone else could. Go ahead and take a bath first, I have to help him out.”

“Shut up.” Mox shoots at him, glaring.

You leave the room quietly, picking up the dress from the room, and whatever you’ll be wearing underneath. The bath is a blur as you scrub the salt scent from your skin. It isn’t until you’re nearly done, when you realize that the soap is going to definitely cover it, with the sickeningly sweet smell that comes from it.

You take your time to dry your hair, getting dressed slowly to ensure that you don’t accidentally rip the dress, only to find out that it slips on freely. It’s not tight on you as you expected, you could run and nothing would tear. Once you leave the bathroom, you take your towel and brush with you, going to sit in your own room while you do your hair.

Just as you’ve gotten your hair to stay in place, with it being pulled back as best as possible so that you can see, Reed hands Alyssum off to you to dry off a little more and get dressed. It’s too easy for her, she doesn’t have much hair, you gather it into a tiny ponytail that makes a palm tree on the top of her head. For a cute effect, you add a bow to it. 

Reed and Mox are ready faster than you are. However, just because they’re fast, doesn’t mean that they’re not dragging their feet when it comes to leaving the house. The second you leave, it’s straight for the stage, where you’ll watch this years unfortunate tributes get reaped for the hunger games.

You could say a million bad things about the Capitol, and the games. But instead, you’ll keep it quiet this year. Because if there’s anything you don’t need right now, it’s being pulled in for the games. Your brothers can’t handle another death in the family, you know it.

Your mom had done enough damage on everyone, but your father was still around long enough to stay strong. Those are the only times you remember Reed still being so soft. Your mom had died giving birth to Alyssum, and no one had realized that she was bleeding to death until it was too late. Thankfully, you were too young, not allowed to be in the room until you were forced to say goodbye, before you were whisked away again. The next time you saw her after that was in the casket.

Your dad had done remarkably well when it came to keeping up with work, and juggling you and Alyssum. Mox and Reed were a year shy of not being in the reapings anymore, so they knew they would have to work harder, no matter what it took or sacrificed.

All that preparation had done Reed good, you suppose. Because only a few months later he would die in a fishing accident. Taking out District Four’s best fishers. For a while, there was talk that it was done on purpose, and the peacekeepers were tired of having to deal with every single person on that boat. But that wouldn’t add up correctly, because your dad was almost always a favorite of the peacekeepers, even the new ones.

In your opinion, your family has gone through enough. Too many have died, and honestly, you all were orphaned for a while, but under the radar. The second that Reed had turned eighteen, he immediately filed to be seen as the parent for all of you. Which stopped the community home from trying to snatch you up.

You guys stop to have the quick breakfast that was somehow skipped over by accident. Consisting of mostly bread, until Reed decides that it doesn’t hurt to have a little bit of fish too. When you’re all finished, the table is cleaned, and then you really have to leave the house.

The walk to the stage is mostly quiet. Reed will play around with Alyssum occasionally, but she mostly stares at the people around you. She hasn’t seen this many people gather together before, it’s mainly just you three, and then the neighbor kids. She wasn’t old enough last year to fully realize what was going on around her. Curious, for sure, but not really caring.

On the way, you manage to catch sight of one of your friends. The second that she turns her head in your direction, you wave. It takes her a moment to realize who you are because of the distance, but soon enough she buddies up next to you.

“Hey, pretty dress.” you tell her, and she beams a little bit.

“Thanks! That one’s new on you, did last year not fit?” she asks, she knows that this is your mothers dress no doubt, but she doesn’t bring it up. Instead, she alludes to it.

“It was tight enough last year, so I was sure it would rip by the seams this year. I found this one at the end.” you tell her, and she nods lightly.

The both of you go on like that, going back and forth talking about what you had done today. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to fill the silence, and suppress the sickness that’s beginning to rise in your stomach, like it does every year. You’d call it intuition if it weren’t so common.

She’s a year younger than you, so she has to move to her age group, fourteen. While you on the other hand, move to be in fifteen. As everyone slowly files in to the sections, you look to find Reed and Mox again, to see that they’re standing off to the side. Alyssum is on Reed’s shoulders, making him very easy to spot. He holds onto her hands tightly, not risking the chance of her falling. With them is one of the neighbor’s sons, Caspian. 

Soon, you turn back to look at the stage again to see that the governor is helping Mags up onto the stage. She’s the only victor of this district, and she’ll be the only help to anyone going into the arena. You really wish that the main career districts would stop being so prestigious, and allow others to win too. That they’d stop training their kids illegally and actually have a sliver of a chance like the rest of you.

They must have so many of their victor houses filled, that they’re always creating more. One new one every year, just in case they win again, which is hardly ever not the case. Instead of a single dozen, they must have four or five. 

Soon, the shuffling of feet has stopped, and the anthem plays. You watch for the fifteenth time as they play the same video. Listen as the same speech is given. That this is what the districts have earned, and being descendants from the originals that had thrown the revolution, you’ve automatically been given the same burden. Being alive is simply offensive to the Capitol.

And then the governor closes his speech, and your districts Capitol representative heads up to the microphone. Elysia Fardust--you really can’t believe that they have ridiculous names like that, as if the body modifications weren’t enough--is looking a lot more humble this year. Last year she had outdone everyone, wanting at least one year in the spotlight, you guess.

She wears a blonde wig, you can tell by the way it shines in the sun, reflecting the light off of it. They could have done their very best with it, trying to make it look realistic, and it still would have turned out looking cheap. Her theme this year seems to be blue and gold, since that’s what the frilly dress she wears is made up of. On her feet is also a pair of gold heels. They look like they would be trouble to walk in, but she moves around just fine. Around her wrists are bracelets that jangle and shine the light back into your eyes at the wrong angle.

There’s a huge smile on her face as she stands tall, “Good afternoon, citizens of District Four.” Unlike other representatives you’ve had, her accent doesn’t stand out as much, it’s a subtle thing, almost as if she’s ashamed of it, “Happy Hunger Games.”

You roll your eyes involuntarily, letting them land on the ground as you shake your head softly. Because only to the Capitol people, is this entire event amusing. Watching others fight to the death so that one may be the winner, win his life back. While everyone back home is forced to watch it in agony. A few will take bets, as their hopes for winners sink each year when all they get are dead bodies in the end.

“We’ll start with the ladies.” she chirps, and you feel the swarm of butterflies first, and then the disgust of her tone crushes all of them at once. Except for a few, which cause more harm than good, as they fly around. 

You can’t help but to turn to look at Reed and Mox, hoping that they can see where you’re standing. And miraculously, you’re able to catch Reed looking at you at the same time. Mox catches on eventually and looks over too. He also mouths for you to breathe.

The faint clinking of rings makes you look towards the stage again to see her pulling out the white paper slip. Butterflies swarm, and the only thing you can relate this feeling back to, is when you have those rare presentations in school. The type that means a lot on who you are, and the grade you recieve.

There’s a pain in your chest as you hold your breath to make all those butterflies stop flying and die from the lack of air. You’re not the only one though, you can feel every single girl that’s eligible to be put in the games, collectively hold their own breaths. Eyes wide and staring just like you are, hoping and praying that it’s not going to be you.

Elysia takes her time, unfolding the paper. She reads it to herself first it seems, before a wide smile spreads over her face, and she looks out to you girls, “Our girl tribute is (Y/n) Gallows.”

-- CHAPTER TWO --

You feel lifeless. As the blood drains from your face. As the wind leaves your lungs. As all the strength you had minutes ago suddenly diminishes. Standing is a hard thing to do. You feel like you should collapse, head aimed toward the sky as you stare. Leaving people to wonder if it’s the shock, or if it’s refusal to go up to the stage.

All you can do now is stare straight ahead at the stage. Feeling all the eyes bore on the back of your head. They’re all giving you away, and if they’d just look somewhere else, then they would have absolutely no clue that it was your name that was called. Elysia wouldn’t be able to spot you so easily like she is now, and the peacekeepers wouldn’t have started their march.

You swallow down the vomit, gritting your teeth as you clench your fists tightly at your sides. Robotically, you turn your body, being gentle on your feet as if you’ll fly into the air if you’re light enough. On the way to the walkway, you get a clear look at Reed and Mox and regret it immediately. You didn’t need to look at them, not yet.

Reed’s face is hard, straight and angry. He looks like one of those tributes that get thrown in once in a while. The type that fight really hard and nearly win every single year. Until some brat career district comes around and kills them off. Reed’s lips are pressed in a thin line, and his eyes stare into yours.

Mox isn’t as stoic. His eyes are glossy, you can see them from where you’re standing. You can also see how red and blotchy his face is getting. He’s already been crying, the tears must have burst right after your name had been called. But you don’t remember hearing the sound of him crying.

You could have easily missed it while your brain threw you in a surprised mindset. It would have been easy to miss the sounds of everyone around you--although you’re sure that there wasn’t much noise in the first place--as you were suddenly clouded by your thoughts. Different escape plans had come to mind, but all of those would have been foolish. You would be laughed at later on for being so cowardly.

When you make it to the walkway, you clear your face as best as you can, standing tall and squaring your shoulders. You force yourself to look tough, even though every single part of you is screaming. As long as you don’t look vulnerable on the outside, you’ll be fine. 

Elysia’s eyes follow you up the steps, taking your hand when you’re within length, and stopping you in front of the girls bowl. From here, you can see everyone, especially your brothers who aren’t looked so hot now. They must be envisioning it now, seeing you in the games. They must be seeing all of the scenarios, knowing that you’ll end up in at least one of them.

Elysia doesn’t waste any time, moving on to the boys bowl. She takes her time like she did the first time, reaching for one of the top ones, instead of digging her hand in the bowl like she did before. Had she plucked one from the top, you wouldn’t be where you are.

Suddenly, you’re glad that Reed and Mox are too old to be placed in the games. Too old to volunteer over some random boy that will be picked. They need to be here for Alyssum, and you know that very well. You’re sure that if it were possible, Reed would most definitely volunteer, so that he would be able to protect you in the games the entire time.

Mox wouldn’t be able to stomach it, being in the arena. He would last only so far, because he can’t kill people. He can hardly stand fish being killed so that you guys can live every single day. So that you can provide for the Capitol. Killing people is absolutely out of the question. But Reed would do it if he could. He’d do it for you because he knows that’s what an older sibling is supposed to do. Protect the younger ones.

Elysia unfolds the second paper, “Finnick Odair.”

You have to stop yourself from opening your mouth when your eyes land on him. And you know that you’re utterly screwed, because this is not an older boy that would take pity on you and hopefully keep you around in the arena because you’re from home. No, this is Finnick, fourteen, handsome, a year younger than you.

You will be expected to look over him, since you’re the older one now. The only experience you have when it comes to fourteen year-olds is the girl that you’re friends with. Who is staring at you with big eyes still, like she can’t believe she was just talking to you, and now you’re going to be sent into the games. She’s also thinking of all the possibilities.

Finnick comes down the aisle with the same hard look on his face that you had. Elysia doesn’t hold her hand out for him. Instead, she lets him walk in front of his bowl, and she turns to everyone that’s waiting below.

“May the odds be ever in your favor.” she says again, the first time was before it had started, “You can shake hands, now.”

She backs up, allowing you to get a look at Finnick. 

You’ve seen him around school, and you’ve talked to him plenty of times. He’s smart, he’s as knowledgeable with knots and fishing as you are. He’ll be a good swimmer, and he’ll know a few plants that are edible. And if he prefers spears rather than the actual fishing pole, then he’ll be able to throw well too. 

There’s got to be some hidden skills in there. But all you know for the most part, is that you’re even on some playing fields. You’re coming from the same district, you’re going to have the same skills. It won’t be like people coming from the main career districts, because they have years of training under their belt with so many things. It won’t be like the outsider districts like ten, eleven and twelve.

You’d consider Finnick a friend at this exact moment, with all of the times you have talked and all of the things you know about him. He’s your friend, and you hope that he considers you the same. Because in the arena, you’ll hope that he’ll consider an alliance. He’s from home, he’ll share the same memories, and he’ll make you feel safe again.

You take Finnick’s hand in yours, shaking it a couple of times. 

And then, you’re ushered off of the stage. You and Finnick are separated from each other as you’re guided and then locked into a room. Here, you pace the room back and forth, because it’s beginning to sink in. You’re going to be sent in an arena with twenty-three other teens your age, and you’re going to be forced to kill them. You’re going to have to survive the best you can, no matter how hard that is.

The door opens minutes later, and you look up to see your three siblings. You only have a couple of minutes to talk to them, says the peacekeeper. Then he shuts the door, and you’re engulfed in arms.

“Remember all the knots I taught you,��� Reed tells you immediately, “How to prepare the fish properly, cook it thoroughly. Boil the water at least before you drink out of it. If they have iodine then that’s what you need to put in it, only a few drops.”

Between gasps of air, Mox begins to give his input, “If you can, make a spear. It doesn’t have to be fancy, just sturdy enough to throw. A strong stick, and sharpen it to a tip with a sharp rock.”

You suddenly know why they’ve been teaching you this information all these years. And you know why your dad did the same to them when the time came. It’s because if this had happened, you would be very good at all of the things that they had taught you over the years. There would be no time for hesitation inside of the arena, and there would be no possibility of that if you were so good at everything that would be used inside of there.

They’ve been preparing you this entire time.

Alyssum reaches for you, and Reed passes her over. You bounce her in your arms lightly, hugging her to your chest as you press a kiss to her forehead. This might be the last time you get to hold her. The last fuzzy memory she will have of you.

Mox must remember the same thing at the same time you do, because his arms swarm you again, and Reed follows. You stand there quietly for a long moment.

“Win, (Y/n).” Reed tells you, “Do everything you can to win. Don’t fall to the obvious things, you know how well you are. Don’t mess it up in there.”

“I know.” you whisper, and just before the doors open, Reed presents you with a freshly polished ring.

It takes you a moment before you recognize it, and that’s when your eyes go wide. It’s your mom’s engagement ring. Your mother hadn’t wanted something big on her finger, and so your dad got her something small. Something that represented the district, while also being a very beautiful ring.

It’s a silver ring, with one lone wave in the middle of it. You take it in your fingers, turning it over for a moment before you slide it on your ring finger with shaky hands. By the time you’ve looked up to thank him, there’s tears gushing down the sides of your cheeks.

Then, the door opens and Reed and Mox are scrambling to give you the last bit of affection they can afford. You kiss Alyssum one last time, before Reed carefully takes her from you. And the last thing you see are a fresh wave of tears on Mox’s face. The door shuts heavily after that, and you have to force yourself to sit down, as you wrap your arms around yourself.

You have a chance, you know that. There’s a chance that you will make it out of this, and you have to hold onto that. You can’t accept defeat just yet, because that’ll ruin your entire mindset. You’ll go into the games thinking you’re going to die, and it’ll take away all your fight. You’ll be weak, useless and depressed. Even the most incompetent fighter will be able to take you.

The doors open again, taking you by surprise as you look up to see Capsian. You and him don’t talk much. In fact, you two hardly get along because he’s always picking on you, and Reed won’t tell him to knock it off. You eventually started a grudge on him, and the resentment just grew from there on.

“I’ll take care of your brothers,” he tells you, “I’ll stay with them to help out around the house. My entire family wishes you good luck in the games.”

“Thank you,” you say, curling up on the couch, he takes this as an invitation to sit on the other end.

“You’ll be good at the games, I can feel it.�� he tells you, nodding to himself as he stares out the window, “We’ll be cheering you on from here.”

You don’t say anything to this, and the rest of his few minutes is spent in silence. He wishes you luck once more, before he disappears out the doors, and then just like that, you’re left alone again. It isn’t for long, as the peacekeepers escort you to the train station, where you see your brothers standing there for a final time, since they have to see you off, no matter what happens.

You know that you’ll be on camera again here, and so you stop to stare off at the district. Then, you raise your hand to wave, eyebrows drawn together as you’re thinking.

Farewell District Four, you think, it’s been fun.

The second after you’ve stepped inside, the doors shut behind you. The train starts moving, and you can feel the shift in the air. You don’t stumble like Finnick, who has to put his hand on the wall to get a hold of himself again.

You stare at Finnick for a moment, unsure of how to approach this. Because you want to have him as a friend now, and have his back for as long as it will last. Which will hopefully be up until you’re bet against each other.

“Allies?” you ask hopefully, “Until we have to kill each other?”

“You’re start awfully early, don’t you think?” he doesn’t answer you initially, but he doesn’t waste too much time, “Yes, until we have to kill each other.”

“Glad to see you two are friendly,” Elysia says, interrupting us, “Your rooms are ready for you.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, beginning to walk towards yours, but Finnick doesn’t let you go so easily.

“You want to stick together?” 

The last time you’ve talked to Finnick had to be at least a couple of weeks ago. When you have the time, it’s normally clipped, little things. Passing conversations, because there’s never enough time to have full ones. It’s during school, and hardly after unless you accidentally run into him in the square or something.

You and Finnick spend your time doing different things, sometimes. You have been trained in all things with water, with the best of Reed’s knowledge with only Mox to back him up on things. You’ve been tying and retying knots. Throwing spears, and harvesting water plants.

It’s required that Finnick do the same, but he has his own preferences. You see him with his favorite trident all the time, playing around with it. There was only one time you had seen him throw it, and when it had come out of the water, five different fish were speared. You’re not sure about the plants, but he has to know how to cook at least. And he has to know his fair share of knot tying, but you’re not sure what he knows. 

Reed tried to cover every single one that he had heard of, and even went as far as to seek out the elderly in District Four to learn how they do things too. What they remember from the times when they had to fish for the Capitol. And then he would take that information, come home and teach it all to you. You weren’t expected to know all of it, but to absorb most of it.

While Finnick probably didn’t have to deal with that almost every night. You partially know this, because you’ve seen him around with the girls in his class. Finnick looks old for his age, which means that he’s growing into his face. He’s more attractive than all the boys in your grade, at least.

The sponsors will love him, and he has to know that somewhat.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“At the training, and stuff like that.” So, he means besides the arena.

“I don’t see why not.” you tell him, stopping in front of your room, your fingers find the ring and you fidget with it slightly, not used to the feeling on your finger, “Wake me for supper?”

He nods, giving you a big smile before he goes to his own room. You walk inside, listening as the doors shut behind you. The second that it’s gone, you head for the bathroom, sliding off the ring and placing it somewhere safe on the counter. Just for an extra measure, you pull up the tab that blocks water, so it doesn’t fall in and go down the drain.

You peel off your clothes, before hurrying inside of the shower that you started. You pull out your hair, letting the warm water wash over it. And while you’re standing there, you realize just how weak you feel from the entire thing. You can’t help but to sink into a sitting position, pulling your knees to your chest as you stare off at the wall for a while.

It must have been an hour you sat in there, just thinking about what it’s going to be like for the next couple of days. You’re not going to be thrown in just like that, you’re going to have to be presentable to the Capitol. You’re going to have to earn sponsors, and look like you have a chance at winning the games. You’re going to be forced to grit your teeth some more and smile. Tough it out until you’re finally inside of the arena.

You brush your hair carefully again, pulling it out of your face again. You look over the drawers carefully, and then you decide that a tank top and shorts will do you good. You want to feel comfortable here, for as long as possible. You want to hold on to what you would be doing at home. And then you grab the ring, putting it back on your finger.

Finnick comes to knock on your door, telling you that it’s time to eat. This is when you see he’s changed into something more comfortable too. He’s doing the same thing you are, because both of you are kids. You shouldn’t be thrown into the games, because you guys are so young. People under the age of sixteen hardly win.

Twelve and thirteen are the death years. If you get picked at those ages, you’re dead, there’s nothing you can do. Your body is so small, and you have no clue what to do still. They don’t have those years under their belt, they’re still struggling with the complicated knots.

Fourteen it gets better, but only by a little bit. No one has won at the age of fourteen, the youngest it gets is fifteen, and that year was a miracle. You weren’t able to see it, but Reed had explained it to you, that it was a particularly hard game. But the boy had won by waiting it out, and found a way to make the food and water last long. He killed only one person that year, and it was the girl that would have won

Sixteen and up, they have the best chances. They’re even better if they’re careers, which makes them deadly. If you run into anyone above the age of sixteen you can consider yourself dead, because they’ll overpower you so easily. The only chance you’ll have, is if there’s distance between the both of you and you have some sort of long-range weapon.

In the diner cart, sits Elysia and Mags. Mags watches as the both of you come into the room. Elysia looks over you guys with a squint, like she can’t believe that you’re dressed like that, and then she smoothes over, relaxing her face. Probably afraid of suddenly getting wrinkles. 

The second you two have sat down, the food arrives. And it starts off slow, and all that Elysia has to tell you, is that more will keep coming, so eat slow and don’t take too much. 

You follow just that, taking in all the different flavors, and how it’s so much more different than fish and bread every single night. With the occasion fish stew if the neighbor next door invited you over for dinner if you had brought her family a lot of fish that afternoon. Those nights, you’d think of them as feasts, because you would bring over more food to share and go around if you had it to spare. Eat like kings and queens, even if it was once a month.

After a certain amount of time, Finnick is tired of the silence, “Mags, when will you begin to mentor us?”

Your eyes drag across the table, landing on her. She struggles for a moment, and then she speaks. But the words are garbled, and it takes you a second to decipher them. 

“Tomorrow morning.” 

Finnick seems to understand as well as you have, so he nods and you guys go back to eating. Somewhere along the way, your stomach starts to feel upset, but you keep eating anyway. The more food you eat, the more pounds you’ll be able to tack on. More weight you’ll have on the others that will be thrown in the arena.

Once you’re done eating, Elysia brings you to the couch to watch the recap of the games. As much as you don’t want to watch all the children get reaped—and the rich kids volunteer—you know it’ll help you in the end. Let you size up the other tributes without being there in person. When you do finally get the chance tomorrow or the day after, you’ll see how tall they are and just how screwed you may be.

The girl that’s volunteered has clearly been training for a while. You watch as the muscles in her arms tense, and then release like she’s purposely flexing to show off her strength. She’s taller, and because of how strong she is, it’s made her look bigger. However, that doesn’t stop her from being pretty. You mark her in your mind immediately, Trink is her name, she’s from District One. 

With her is a boy that isn’t as impressive, most boys who volunteer are normally tall and muscular, so nothing stands out about him. For girls, it’s just not the same. They’ve been training for just as long, but most of the time they look harmless. It isn’t until they’re thrown into the games, when they show off their true nature.

The boy’s name is Lennox, and he’s definitely taller than you, because he easily towers over the girl next to him. If you’re taking guesses on ages, then the girl is sixteen and he’s the same age or seventeen. He looks older, but then again, so does Finnick and he’s fourteen.

You look at Finnick to see how he’s accessing this entire thing too. He’s thinking, staring at the screen with a straight face, and then he laughs. When he turns to look to you, he shakes his head, “Careers.”

He says the word as if it explains what he’s laughing about, and you turn to see just in time that Trink and Lennox are grinning at each other. Arms locked around the other, as they turn to their district to wave. Clearly they’re proud of where they’ll be coming from.

Another district to watch out for is the following, two. Another part of the careers, people that you’ll be expected to team up with to hunt and kill.

The girl is taller than the boy this time, and she holds her chin high. There’s this sickening grin on her face as she bares her chest out for everyone to see. She wants them to know that she’s just as proud. Her name is Eytelle, probably stolen from one of the Capitol people. Since two is one of the favored ones as well. 

The boy looks strong though, his name is Allio. In his hand he holds a stick that he’ll turn over in his hand every now and then. You have to focus to see what he’s doing exactly, but when you catch the glint of the silver, you realize it’s not a stick. He’s playing with a knife.

“Are we allowed…?” you don’t finish the question, but Elysia picks up.

“No.” she says gruffly, shaking her head, “It’s supposed to be for safety. What is he thinking?”

You’re not sure if she’s referring to the male Capitol representative, or Allio. Who’s still playing with that knife, and you watch as it gets faster in his hand. Like it’s building up a climax, and then it cuts.

Three is technology, and it looks like the program hurries that up a little bit. Certain districts are going to be expected to do better, this will be one of them. They make the technology, they’ll know how to build weapons. They should do exceedingly well, and if the careers think any one of them have potential, they’ll be called on.

Next, it flips to your district, and this is when it slows down again. You watch as Elysia perks up, and Finnick leans forward, suddenly entranced by the sight. Again, you relive the moment when Elysia calls your name, and you watch as a couple of seconds pass, before you’re heading down the aisle.

What felt like an eternity to you, was only a few seconds for them. You thought that you had frozen to your spot while you were debating the chances of you running. To them, they thought that it was you realizing it was your name that was called or something. You watch as the emotion is cleared from your face the second that you begin walking and realize that there’s cameras.

On that stage you felt so small, but on the camera, you can clearly see that it’s not too bad. You look better than what you thought you would. Four is also part of the careers, but it’s very shaky when it comes to volunteers--hence why you nor Finnick got one--and they hardly ever team up with the pack as far as you’re concerned.

Four is a rich district, so hardly anyone starves, but you’ve had your own months when you were struggling to get used to the fact that it was only you and your brothers that were capable of gathering food. Eventually, you got very good at it again, and there’s always food stocked in the fridge. But you’ve felt starvation. Despite all that, you look healthy and well-fed. There’s no doubt that a few districts are going to be jealous of that fact, especially in the poorer parts.

There’s not much you know, you’re not allowed to talk to neighboring districts at all. But you do know that most live in poverty. And things like starvation aren’t so uncommon.

You hadn’t noticed this before, but your hands somehow found their way behind you, in the time that you had found where you needed to stand, and when Elysia went to call the boys name. Subconsciously, you were also baring your chest, almost like you were proud.

You laugh when you watch Finnick walk down the walkway again. He looks to you, to see what’s funny, “Do you always walk like that?”

Elysia must have lost focus somewhere along the way, because she blinks quickly and focuses her eyes again. Then she also laughs, “You’re almost strutting.”

He grins, face turning a little red as he shakes his head, “Does it look tough enough?”

“You look ridiculous.” but he makes up for it when he stands at the stage right next to you. That’s when the two of you look like real competitors, with you standing tall, trying to make yourself look capable. And Finnick, not even trying and he still looks intimidating.

The rest pass like a blur. District Five fuels the power, so they’re only a little favored when it comes to things. They’re healthy looking too. District Six is transportation, no one stands out. Seven is lumber, which is when you start focusing again. When you see how big the two tributes are again. You mark them off too, Cass--the girl--and Mac.

Eight is textiles, nothing interesting. Nine is grain, which means that the poor districts are starting. Ten is livestock, eleven is agriculture, and twelve is mining coal. None of them had sprouted any interest in your mind, they don’t look threatening to you. In particular, twelve is the worst. With wobbly knees and pale faces, they look like they’re going to pass out at any minute.

And then just like that Elysia snaps the tv off, and you’re left sitting there in silence. She waits for a moment, before jumping up, “I suggest you two go off to bed, tomorrow will be very important.” 

You and Finnick watch as she leaves the room, and right on cue, you two turn towards each other.

“The boy and girl from one are definitely problems,” you begin, and he nods, agreeing, “The girl is bigger than usual, which means that she’ll pose a bigger challenge.”

“They should be the first to go if we can make it possible.”

But how would that be? They’re one person of course, but they’re as good as three. They make up for the districts with people that don’t know what they’re doing, that get killed in the very beginning. In order to get them off, that would mean that a lot of people would have to band together.

“Are you suggesting we gather other tributes?” you ask, almost baffled by the idea. The more people, the more tension and fear that someone will betray the other.

“No, not too many.” he says, straightening his back, “Enough to help.”

He must see potential in the districts you saw nothing in, “We’ll have a better chance at looking them over later.”

He nods, he knows this already, “One, two and five.” 

“Maybe three,” you get up from where you’re sitting, feeling the weight of today suddenly pressuring your shoulders.

“Maybe three,” he repeats, standing up too, “Off to bed so soon?”

You roll your eyes a little bit, “Yeah, I’m tired. Aren’t you?”

“I couldn’t feel more awake.”

-- CHAPTER THREE --

The morning comes before you’re ready for it. You drag your feet when it comes to taking a quick shower, and you throw on the nearest outfit that makes sense. It won’t really matter once you’re inside of the Capitol. You’ll be torn to pieces and then rebuilt at first chance.

You shouldn’t be too far off now. In fact, you probably should have made it there overnight, District Four is one of the closest districts to the Capitol. The only thing between you and them is District One. That one isn’t very surprising, they should be in the Capitol for a day now. The train goes so quickly, there wouldn’t be a reason to keep them from going.

You’ll probably barely have enough time to eat breakfast before you’re being shoveled off the train. 

With that thought, you place the ring back onto your finger as you head out to the dining car, or room. Once you make it there, you see that you’re not the last. Finnick and Mags are still nowhere to be seen. However, Elysia sits at the table, a black coffee in hand as she looks over something in her hand. She pays you no attention when you sit at the table.

Immediately, you’re served food. Most of it you recognize because of the special days the district gets to eat well on. Not like you don’t get to eat things like this all the time, but the special foods like pancakes are something you haven’t seen in a while. You carefully eat like you did yesterday, trying not to overdo it, but also get a good amount of food in you.

Finnick comes in not too long after, taking his seat as he also starts to eat. However, he’s basically inhaling it, as if he hasn’t eaten in days. You’re impressed for a while, until he starts to turn a little green. Only then do you begin laughing at him, and he offers you a sheepish smile.

“Hungry?” you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve been up for hours waiting to eat.” he tells you.

So he didn’t sleep last night, and that’s going to show. It took you a couple hours of tossing and turning, trying desperately to just get a little bit of time. Eventually, your body had decided that it might as well. You’re not in any danger just yet, you’re on a train to where the danger will start, but until then you’ll be fine. 

“You need your sleep,” Elysia beats you to it, “But your stylists will cover it for now.”

Finnick offers her a small glance, and then he turns to you as if he’s disinterested with everything she has to say. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s not staring at you exactly, it’s past you. You turn to look over your shoulder to see that Mags is coming in now. She’s slow, and she looks like she’s struggling even with the cane she’s been provided with.

The peacekeepers take a step to help her, but you jump up before they have the chance. The mere thought of them touching her is disgusting to you. They work for the Capitol. They’re hugely ignorant and arrogant. They stand by and let all of this happen, hell, they’re coming from the districts around you.

Mags gives you a smile of appreciation, and Finnick helps out a little bit too when he sees how much trouble it is. With the help of you both, she gets seated and begins to eat. What you didn’t see before, is that she has a pad of paper, which she’s using one hand to write with, and the other to eat. 

Her neat handwriting covers the paper, in a small paragraph. She turns the paper to you, and you tilt your head to read it. For a second, your mind blanks because it believes you’ve never read cursive before, but then it slowly comes back to you. You’re mouthing the words, picking up the paper as you take your time to hand it off to Finnick.

Lesson 1: Sponsors. Looking presentable for the Capitol people will be your greatest chance at survival. In order to do that, you’ll have to play up the act a little bit. Who are you?

It’s a simple question, but you find yourself struggling to answer. When you pass the paper back to her, she writes down one word beside it.

Personality?

Oh.

“What does it say?” Finnick asks, tilting his head, but he can’t see it anyway, he’s on the other end of the table.

“Personality.” you say for him, looking to Mags, “You mean like clever, smart…?”

She nods a little, and you look to the window for a moment, thinking. Allowing Finnick to get the chance to answer before you. What is your personality?

“Well, we have the same personality for the most part.” Finnick starts to answer for the both of you, “Smart with the basic district stuff, strong.”

“Deadly.” you add, and Mags raises her eyebrows a little bit, so you elaborate, “I throw spears, and I’ve seen Finnick with a trident.”

Finnick flushes for a second, but it clears out, “The trident is on special occasions. Mostly spears.”

You sit in silence, she writes, “What else?” you shake your head for a second, trying to come up with the adjectives, and then it comes back to you, “I’m considerate and kind. I have well manners.”

Mags writes all of this down, and you can see the word ‘humble’, and then she writes down damsel.

For a second, you’re not sure what you think of it, but you see it soon enough. Playing the innocent, damsel role and having everyone underestimate you. If they overlook you, then that gives you a better chance at winning.

“I can’t play that up,” you tell her, because you remember seeing yourself on the screen again, how you stood strong, “The reaping--”

Everyone looks like that, she writes, No one wants to be targeted.

And she’s right. All those people you had seen last night were trying to look bigger than they were. Except for the kids, when their shoulders would hunch in on themselves, trying to disappear. As much as possible, you’ll all try to look strong to be picked for an alliance. Those who aren’t picked are left to suffer.

This will throw Finnick’s entire plan off course. If you play damsel, then that means you have to downplay all your skills. Make it look like you’re incapable of winning. No sponsors, no alliance. The only person that’ll be able to save you is Mags and yourself. Maybe your brothers back home will somehow afford to send something your way.

You’ll have to purposely score low in training, to really lower the expectations. Mags might even go as far to tell your stylists not to do too well on yours and Finnick’s matching outfits.

Mags writes again while you’re thinking, and you read it so you can look to Finnick, “She wants to know about you.”

Finnick looks like he’s been waiting for his turn, “Strong, tall. Almost all the girls at school love me, so attractive--”

As he’s listing what he’s made of, you see one word for him. Cunning. He’s going to be playing up the tough arrogant act. He’ll be purposely showing off, he’ll be the one that gets all the sponsors. The alliance he proposed will be his, the careers will be tripping over their feet to get him in their pack. 

Suddenly, you can’t help but to feel a little jealous, and detached.

Finnick is the boy, he’s going to be expected to win. But you have the age advantage, so they’ll also be looking to you to win. At least for some people, for others it doesn’t matter at all. Back home, they’ll be hoping that only one of you comes back in a casket.

“What’s my word?”

“Cunning,” you tell him quietly, invested in your food again. Your stomach has managed to settle, so you try to stuff it again, the more the better. You’re not sure when you’ll be able to eat after this.

The train car blacks out for a couple of seconds, and then light fills it again. Elysia looks over her shoulder, and then her face lights up as she hops up from her seat, “Home sweet home.”

You and Finnick move to the window, looking out it for a moment. Bright lights fill the car, blinding you. When you’ve blinked away the lights, you can see just how many Capitol people have come to the station to greet you two.

A sigh leaves you and for a moment you want to move away. And then, you realize that if you’re going for that damsel type, you have to look clueless. Like you’re always in a daze or something. So, you begin to wave the exact same moment Finnick does. And even through the thick walls of the train car, you can hear the roaring of their cheers.

--

Your stylist’s assistants are very nice, and they try to be as gentle as possible when it comes to what they have to do. For a minute they just stood and stared almost as if they had no clue on how to start with you. And then, they went straight to work. Removing every inch of hair from your body, besides what’s on your head. 

Your hair is now silky smooth, and smells of strawberries. Your body is sore, but soft from how many bathes they’ve made you soak in. Your nails have been cleaned, filed and they have a very thin layer of nail polish on them. Only a little bit, because they were afraid that your main stylist would want to change that later.

Your eyebrows have been plucked, leaving you sculpted. They’ve applied some sort of teeth whitener, trying to make it scary white like theirs. A couple of times they’ve told you to straighten your back to stand tall. Only then did you realize that they were taking measurements, and after that you stood very still to allow the to. 

“I think we’re all done now.” Cleo says, taking a step back to access you one last time, “Laurel is going to love you.”

She says nothing else, grabbing onto the arm of the girl that she was working with. You hadn’t heard much from her, she mostly listened as Cleo babbled on. With the occasion prompt to keep her talking. It’s almost as if she didn’t want to do any of it herself.

You rock on the table, back and forth as you stare at the wall ahead. Trying to imagine yourself winning the games. All that it’ll take to get to that point too. You find yourself regretting how you described yourself, even if you were being honest.

The door opens, revealing a very tall woman. Her hair is held back by a simple hairband, trying to keep it from her face, you’re guessing. It’s the same thing you do when you know it’ll be an irritating day. However, with these people it’s never irritating, they live in luxury. They’re all brightly colored and rich and they never have to worry about going hungry, ever.

She wears a white shirt, and a black blazer. Her pants are ironed nearly, and she has a pair of black heels on. The second she steps into the room, she slips them off though, only lowering her height just a little bit. She’s naturally tall it seems, and she seems proud of it. Not afraid to get bigger.

“I’m Laurel.” she introduces herself, “(Y/n), right?”

She has to know that it’s you, “Yeah.”

“Stand up for me?” she asks, and you slip off the table, standing in front of her. She walks around you, looking at your body, taking all of it into consideration. Laurel will stare for a moment, and then she’ll move your hair. She checks your nails to see that they’re very neat, and she seems pleased with that, “Take your robe.”

You reach over for it, slipping it on and then folding your arms over your chest anyway. You almost want to hunch in on yourself like you saw the kids doing at the reaping. But then, you remove your arms and make yourself stand a bit taller. Reminding yourself that you need to have more worth, carry that energy until it’s not carrying anymore. Until it is you.

“Mags tells me that you’re going for a more subtle look.” Laurel sits down on a nice couch, you make sure to tuck the robe beneath you as you sit, “Humble?”

You nod lightly, “I think she’s going for an underestimated look.”

“And do you feel the same?”

You dodge the question a little bit, “Finnick is going for cunning, isn’t he? I want to be presented the same way he does, but I wouldn’t mind if we did something along the lines of humble.”

She takes this into consideration, nodding lightly, “How would you feel about a two-piece? Almost like a bathing suit?”

You really hope you don’t end up in some skin-showing outfit, “Sure.”

She nods to this, looking pleased, “Blue, definitely blue.”

It’s only a couple of hours later, when you’re standing side-by-side with Finnick. He looks like he’s more in a bathing suit than you do. They’ve completely taken his shirt, and just put on a tunic almost, for his lower half. His designer has gotten him covered with vines, some drawn on and some of them real. It’s supposed to look like he’s came out of the water, like he’s been there for a while.

As a joke, you suggested dying him a blue-green because of how copper fades. His stylist considered it for a moment, even turning to Laurel to ask if it were possible to do it in an hour. But then Finnick piped up that he did not want to be a shade of green, and glared at you. It was all in good fun and he knows that. Didn’t stop him from jabbing you in your ribs when he had the chance.

You and Finnick are wearing nearly the same pair of leather sandals. Yours only goes up to your ankles, as his surrounds his calves, stopping just a little bit below the knee. He has that tunic around his waist, which wrinkles in all the right places, and it’s pinned to keep from falling.

Laurel had already built off of the bathing suit idea, deciding that you were worth more than just a pair of half-naked teenagers. She kept the aspect, but added a couple of things to it. On your upper body, your hair is curled to look more natural, going for the beachy-type but not exact. Macara, blue eyeshadow, the works go on your face. They’d outdone themselves with the white eyeliner, purposely tying to give you a goddess aspect, you guess?

You definitely know they were going Roman, even if it’s just a little bit.

They secured a bracelet around your upper arm, it’s a couple of waves. On your upper half of your body, you have a bra on almost. But the straps are thick, and the padding pushes it all up. It’s tight around the ripbs, keeping it from lifting off your chest, as they tried to show off some curves. It ends somewhere in the middle of your ribs.

And as for your waist, she decided for a high-waisted short bottom. Attached to it is a train almost. The flaps are attached to your left hip, giving it a sort-of leg slit. But the fabric is see-through, so it’s not much. The entire color scheme is a muted sea green. On your wrists are silver bracelets, on your neck is a lone shell necklace. Laurel had successfully acquired your ring, adding it to the outfit, even if the people from the stands won’t be able to see it exactly.

Laurel and Finnick’s stylist have you and Finnick walk around. Making small adjustments to everything so it flows better. In no time, you’re told to get onto your chariot with the blonde horses. Before you guys take off, Laurel makes one very last minute change.

She makes you wrap your arms around Finnick’s left one. Your right arm goes under, closest to his body. That one will stay permanently, and your left arm goes over, which will be the one you wave with and such.

“This is so exciting,” Finnick chirps, a smile already coming over his face, and then, “Oh!”

He reaches into a pocket that you didn’t know he had, and he pulls out a small sugar cube. You laugh, taking it with your left hand as you turn it over for a second. When you look over, the both of you share a look, before popping the sugar in your mouths at the same time. 

The sweet taste takes over your tongue immediately, and you can’t help but grin. As you turn to look off to the ground, you watch as the audience turns to see the newcomers coming in.

The cheering gets louder, and then there’s pointing. You smile with your teeth, giving a wave, while also trying to think of embarrassing things. It takes a moment, but it all comes rushing back, and you find your face heating up very quickly.

“She’s blushing!” one of them yells, there’s a series of screams and ‘awing’ that follow after, and Finnick laughs.

“You play the act well.”

“For you it’s not even an act.” you say through clenched teeth, making sure the smile reaches your eyes. 

Every single time you hear someone yell your name, you turn to look in that direction. If you’re going to get sponsors, you’ll want them to each every single bit of this shit up. You make surprised faces, cover your mouth, cower into Finnick and let him pretend to coax you out. The cheering only gets louder, until their attention is turned back to the newcomers.

When the chariot stops, you feel your face cooling considerably, and you sigh in relief, because it’s hard to keep thinking of embarrassing things. Once you bring up the effect again, it’s almost as if it’s useless. All those memories are so faded, that it’s hard to even think of them anymore. You hardly ever make bad mistakes like that.

You wait patiently as Snow makes his appearance and says his piece about everything. The anthem plays, you guys show up as you watch the flag. And then, there’s one final lap around the little circle, before you guys have vanished inside of the building.

There, Laurel and the other stylist are waiting for you. Laurel nods at you approvingly, probably glad that you still held on even though it wasn’t really necessary anymore. You slide off of the chariot with Finnick, stretching your arm. You cross them back over your chest, as you look around.

Soon enough, your prep teams are slowly distancing themselves, standing off to the side. Which offers a perfect opportunity for the others to see, measure you and Finnick up. You do the same, because the only other times you’ll see them is for training, and then later for the interviews. These moments where you over or underestimate them are crucial.

District one has a clear eye on you and Finnick.

“Trink and Lennox are staring.” You tell Finnick, trying not to look over, but he looks them dead on, almost like he doesn’t care.

He waves for a second, beckoning them over. You’re about to tell him that it’s a really bad idea, but they start their way over. So, you place the mask back on, and take a step back, allowing Finnick to do whatever it is he thought he wanted to do.

“Finnick,” He introduces himself, offering his hand.

Lennox looks to Trink for a moment, almost impressed as he takes Finnick’s hand, shaking it a couple of times, “Lennox.”

Of course, you know their names already, so it seems a little useless to introduce yourselves. But then it dawns on you, that they probably don’t know your names.

You make a feeble attempt to do the same, “I’m (Y/n).”

“Oh, we know.” Trink’s smile transforms into a smirk, “Gallows, huh? Like getting hung from the gallows…”

You hate her already.

You laugh lightly, trying to bring the smile to your eyes again, “I guess! I never made that connection before! It’s only fitting now that I’m in the games, huh? Do you think I have a chance?”

What if you play damsel until it comes to the private session with the gamemakers. What if you show off your skills then, score high, and then see what happens to the tributes around you. See if their sudden interest sparks and they want you on their side after all.

You wonder how Reed would feel about you teaming up with the careers. If he would be telling you to steer away from them, because they’re hostile, and vile and sometimes a little messed up in the head from all that training at a young age. It makes them want to volunteer, no sane person could truly want that unless they’ve been brainwashed.

Trink shares a look with Lennox for a second, and then behind her you see that the crowd is about to have two more people added to it, as District Two comes over here. You slump your shoulders slightly, tilting your head at the newcomers. Eytelle and Allio, the tall girl and the boy who spun the knife in his hand during the reaping.

“Are these four?” Allio asks, you take the guess now that he’s going to be the chattier one.

Eytelle is… the only comparison you can make with her, is that she’s shorter than Laurel, but not by much. Her parents must be giants, because if she’s only sixteen or so she’ll keep growing for a while. The height will give her an advantage when it comes to running, but she’ll have trouble trying to hide so easily.

“Clearly.” Trink mutters, looking over you a little more, “So what’s your skills?”

“That’s for us to know and for you to find out.” Finnick answers for both of you, “We don’t give shit away so easily. What are we getting in return?”

Trink measures this, but Allio speaks first, “Maybe a friendship if you play your cards right.”

A smile spreads over your face, as you try to look excited, “Wow! An alliance, that’ll be helpful!” 

Lennox looks pleased at the suggestion, “Only if you want.”

Finnick offers you a glance, and you bob your head, trying to urge him to agree but not look desperate. This is what he wanted after all, and if you careers band together, then there’s no doubt that all of you will get a good portion of the population inside of the arena down before you know it.

You’re already forming a plan in your head. Team up with the careers, get to know all of their skills that they’ll show off inside of the training center. There, you will memorize everything, while also learning new skills. Then, when it comes to the arena, you’ll plot their murders very carefully. You’ll pick them off very carefully, space them so it doesn’t look like your fault.

But this would all work so much better if only one of you were in the pack. Finnick lures them to you, you kill them, injure him a little bit, and send him back to get the others riled up.

It’s not a bad plan, you’ll just have to work out the kinks, and present this to Finnick.

He is your accomplice.

-- CHAPTER FOUR --

This morning, Elysia had come to your room to wake you up. For a second, you thought she was doing it so that you’d be early to the table like you normally are. But she was kind enough to inform you that you had slept in past what she wanted already. Mags has been the only reason you’ve been allowed to stay in bed for so long.

As you got ready, you were a little confused on how you’d managed to sleep for so long. You're normally one of the people first awake, especially here. Once your body decides that it has enough energy to run off of, it sort of just wakes you up. You’ve been sleeping soundly every single night, as far as you know. So the exhaustion is coming out of nowhere.

It wasn’t until you had brought it up to them, where Finnick had informed you that you hadn’t slept as soundly as you thought. After you had eaten dinner last night, you’d stayed awake a little while to bring up the plan to Finnick, to get his opinion about luring them to their deaths. He seemed to like it, and then you went off to sleep in your own room.

He says that it must have been a couple of hours before the screaming had started. The first to the room was Mags, but she wasn’t able to get you up, since speaking is difficult for her. Instead, Finnick had to shake you awake, coaxing you out of whatever nightmare you had been trapped in. 

You don’t remember any of it, it’s impossible for you to recall what happened. Elysia says that you must have been asleep still, but Finnick and Mags says you were coherent. You could hear them, and you listened to them try to calm you down from hyperventilating. Once you were in a good enough state, Mags went back to bed, and Finnick stayed a little while.

He just wanted to make sure that you would go back to sleep, but it had taken a while for you to calm down enough to get your heart to stop producing the adrenaline. Finnick tried to sit in the silence, but he wanted to know what the nightmare was about. What had gotten you to the point of screaming and hyperventilating.

You can’t remember it now, even though you’re awake and most of the time can relive the dream a little bit. It was apparently about you drowning, and that was all that you’d tell him. There had to be more though, because you’re not afraid of the water, you live in District Four. To be afraid of drowning would be so fucking ridiculous.

You have a feeling that it was about you taking your father's place in the accident, again. It’s a common nightmare you have. You’ll be on the boat with your brothers, and everything will be going good. But the boat will rock when one of you try messing with the other. Mox gets knocked off, you scramble to save him only to fall off the side. In the water, he’s nowhere to be seen. And then Reed will turn on the boat, leaving you in the middle of the water. The water only gets colder the more time goes on, and your joints will freeze in place. Swimming back to shore is impossible and you die out there, every single time.

You didn’t bother to explain all of that to Finnick, because you’re not looking for pity, it’s no point for him to know your life story. Instead you nodded along and went back to eating, because you then knew why you had been so exhausted. All it takes is one nightmare and a couple of shots of adrenaline to keep you going for a long ass time apparently.

Mags then transitioned into the training that you’re actually in right now. She pulled out her paper and pen and asked if you guys would want to train together. You told her that you’d already formed an alliance with him, so it would be pointless to hide anything. Finnick agreed, and then Mags went on to explain to hide most of your skills.

Just as you predicted anyway. She had wanted you guys to keep it low on the profile, especially you. Mainly she wants you to play dumb and go around with the stations, fumble with most of the things you do but take your time with learning them. She also knows of the career pack proposal, so she reminds you to keep friendly with them too, if that’s going to be your goal.

Of course, she doesn’t want you guys to get too attached or close. Don’t trust them because the chances of them turning on you at first chance is a little too easy. It will only be a matter of time in the arena before the tension snaps at they make a jump to kill any of you. You already know this. If you go through with the plan, then that means that they're going to be suspicious of everyone in the pack anyway. 

Finnick is supposed to be good at everything inside of the training center. But as you watch him circle and go around the stations with Allio and Lennox, you can’t help but to think he looks like an idiot. Allio is more skilled in combat than you guys are, he can throw just about anything a good distance. Lennox seems to be the same.

You’ve watched as they make him throw spears, knives, axes, swords, just to see how good he is at it. They’re looking impressed, but you’re starting to see through Finnick’s facade. He keeps making a wince face each time he thinks he’s thrown it too terribly, his confident mask is falling too easily.

“Wow, look at her.” Trink says, you look up from the fire that you’re trying to start to see that they’re staring dead straight at the girl from District Eleven. You squint for a second to see what she’s doing, and then you smile.

“Thyme, right?” Eytelle asks, her arms are crossed over her chest, and she hunches over like she’s trying to make herself look like you’re all in the same height range, “She’s showing off.”

“Aren’t we all?” you ask, turning back to the fire, getting it started this time. Trink turns over, and you clap quickly, the smile turning to a grin as you look to the other two girls, like a proud kid, “I did it!”

“Took you a while.” Eytelle mutters, “What are you actually skilled at?”

“Besides fires, and knot tying.” Trink adds.

You have to show off at least one skill to get these people interested, “I can show up Finnick with the throwing.”

Trink perks up, “Show us.”

You push yourself up from your knees, starting your way to where the boys are. On the way, you make eye contact with Thyme. She has dark hair, brown-black it looks like. She’s tan, fairly tall, green eyes. She’s got to be the same age as you, because she looks young.

“I hear that District Eleven and Twelve have the skilled hunters--or at least they know what berries and leaves are safe to eat.” you tell them, “Thyme will be very useful.”

Eytelle scoffs, “Who says we can’t hunt actual food? Like meat?”

“What happens when there’s a storm, when all the fish and forest animals are out of the question? Berries, leaves, bark and all of that will save your lives instead. Turning someone like her down simply because she comes from a poor district is…. Stupid.” you tell them, and then you stalk off to join the guys for real.

“Hey Finnick!” he turns while he’s about to throw a knife, Allio and Lennox give you a quick look up and down. You haven’t really talked to them this entire time. Over your shoulder, you can see Eytelle approaching Thyme, while Trink bounces over.

“Well, go ahead.”

You hold out your hand for the knife that Finnick is holding. He gives you a warning look almost, like you don’t know what you’re doing, before handing it over. You give him a cheeky smile, “Watch and learn.”

You flip the knife around to hold it by the blade. Taking in a deep breath, you slowly let it out because you can’t fuck this up. And then, you draw your arm back, before throwing the knife forward with all the strength possible.

The knife covers the twenty feet in less than three seconds, hitting the dummy square in the head. You tilt your head slightly, “It’s a little off center.”

“Off center? You hit that thing….” Allio trails off, and you turn around to see Finnick with a smirk on his face.

Thyme is standing with Eytelle, and she claps a little bit for you, “Can you teach me to throw like that?”

“Sure!” you turn to look at the others, letting Trink narrow her eyes on you. She might be seeing through the act a little bit, “It’s the one thing I’m good at, I’ve had so much time to learn in District Four. I’ll teach Finnick too if you guys wanna go off by yourselves.”

They agree, heading off to some sort of other place they can show off at. Once they’ve gotten out of earshot, the smile on your face drops and you mock them for a second, grabbing the nearest knife. You throw it, and it hits the chest this time, “Thinking I can understand them just because--god are they annoying.”

Finnick snorts, before turning to look at Thyme, “Finnick, this is (Y/n).”

“I’ve heard.” She chirps happily, picking up one of the knives before turning to you, “When do we get started?”

You spend the next hour or so showing your new friend how to throw. Finnick isn’t so bad, it’s just the doubt that gets him. You tell them both that the less confidence they have in the throw, the worse it’ll turn out. Plus, throwing the knife is better than nothing in most situations anyway. If you have more tucked away, then it won’t hurt.

If the person is within your range, then the best you can do is at least try. It could turn out really well and you end up nailing them like you should. Or it could be horrible, land somewhere close to them. But you could call that a warning and say you did it on purpose later on.

Thyme turns out to be really nice, and she explains how Eytelle approached her. This is when you inform her that it was your idea, no matter what Eytelle had told her. To have her with you guys could put her in danger, but you’re all going to die anyway. She’s an outlying district, the chances of her winning is already slim. You basically just gave her a chance.

She’s already picked up on your act the second that the others come back around to check up on you. This is when Finnick lets them know that you’re really skilled at it, despite failing in all the other stations you’d managed to hit while walking around with them. Except for the obvious ones with knot tying, starting the fire and all of that. 

Lennox jokingly asks what rock you’ve been living under for these past years, as if he can’t believe that you have no clue what you’re doing at all. But you just offer him a smile and shrug, saying that you don’t really have time for other things like that. You muse that if it weren’t for the fact that they’re agreeing for an alliance that you’d probably die in there alone.

They seem satisfied with that, and even though you hadn’t thanked them by any means, they say ‘you’re welcome’ and move on. This is when you and Finnick hang back. 

Soon, you get bored of training, and you’re about to wave Thyme off, before she asks if she’s really included in the alliance. You tell her that it looks like it, and they wouldn’t have let her tag around, much less offered if they were kidding. She looks pretty satisfied, and you tell her to make friends with the others too. If this this fails then she’ll want an escape plan.

After that you leave the training center with Finnick, take the elevator up to your district floor, and go in to see that Laurel is showing off designs to Mags. 

“Oops, are we walking in on something?” you ask, and Laurel looks over with a smile, “Not at all, welcome back.”

“Dinner will be served in an hour.” Elysia mutters, looking over from the tv.

“She’s telling us that we think and should probably shower.” Finnick whispers to you, Mags hears this and laughs.

She nods slightly, before shooing the both of you out the room as soon as Finnick’s stylist shows up behind you guys. It looks like they want to keep your interview outfits a surprise. It makes sense, they’re all about surprises and being prestigious. They think the outfits matter--because they do--but you don’t have that same taste. Neither does Finnick.

Back home you two would probably settle for a shirt and a pair of jeans. The occasion jacket, a nice pair of comfortable boots, and then that would be it. There’s not much to do around four, so there wouldn’t be a reason to dress up besides reaping day. You spend most of your time in a boat or in water.

Which means that you’re not even wearing boots, it would be a pair of sandals. If it’s cold in the morning, then your toes freeze and you just have to deal with it. Either you tuck your feet beneath you or shut up and just be cold. There’s a good possibility that you get thrown overboard by accident or on purpose. Or you’re spearing fish in the shallow, jeans being pulled up to your calves as you wade through the water.

You and Finnick stop outside your doors again, and he leans up against the wall.

“Allio and Lennox are annoying.”

“Stuck up?” you ask, a smile spreading over your face.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t even think that word fits them. They think everyone inside of the arena is going to be easy to kill. That I’m probably going to be the only one who poses a threat.”

Your eyebrows raise, “They’re buying my act?”

“They don’t even think it’s an act. They think that you’re geniunely stupid and you’re just getting lucky with some of the things you know.”

That’s fair, you’re trying to play up the dumb damsel thing. You have to have one skill that will impress the gamemakers, and that will be just about it. If they keep you around for your skill to kill people, then that’ll be good enough. As long as you’re around.

“That’s good.”

“Anything about the other two? Trinket and Eyeball?” he purposely gets their names wrong.

You snort, “They’re buying it as good as the other two. I managed to convince them to invite Thyme, which I think will turn out handy.”

“How did you do that anyway?”

“Simply told them that if we run low on food and can’t find any animals, then berries and leaves is gonna be all that we have. So, she’ll be our best bet.”

He’s impressed, “Smart.”

“Yeah, I know. Any of the others show potential?”

“The boy from three, he’s been making things in the corner. Saw him make a knife from a stick, some vine and a rock.” Finnick tells you.

So he’ll definitely be dangerous. He’ll know how to make his own weapons from absolutely nothing. You wonder what else he knows how to make. If he can make knives, then there’s a possibility for a bow, spears, axes. Just depends on what setting you’re all going to be placed in.

“The others seem pretty reserved, or they’re not showing off what they can do.” Finnick yawns.

“Finally tired?” you tease.

“After sitting with you all night? Hell yeah I am.” he stretches, and then relaxes, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Yeah,” you wave him off, before going to your room.

You sit on the floor mainly, staring out the window, watching as the people below celebrate the games already. All you can think about is your family back home, and how they’re all holding up. You hope that Reed isn’t being too hard on Mox. You’re hoping that Mox hasn’t been crying this entire time, because there’s nothing to be worried about. You wonder if Alyssum notices that you’re gone.

You have a greater chance now. With an alliance forming, with learning all the new things that Thyme had taught you when she brought you to her special station. Showed you all the berries and leaves she could afford to before the others had come around again.

It’s almost like she didn’t want to show them, which is really fair. She doesn’t trust them as much, and you don’t either. But it also doesn’t make sense because technically you and Finnick are careers anyway. It could be because of the fact that you’re playing two different personalities, that you’re actually not stupid and just using them. Or it could be from a different reason that you don’t know.

She’s really nice though, and you’re glad that you suggested her. She shows promise, she learns really quickly. It took only a couple of minutes for her to learn to throw properly. It was just her doubt that was holding her back for the rest of the time.

When you disband the careers, you hope that she’ll stick with you. But when it comes down to the end, you don’t want to be the one that kills her. She’s too nice, she even told you a little bit about her family back home.

The more you get to know someone, the less you want to actually kill them, and that’s the painful part. If you were to get to know everyone that’s going to be thrown in, then you’ll feel bad. Except for Trink, Eytelle, Allio and Lennox, though. They volunteered and they’ve been training for this their entire lives.

It’s hard to feel bad for them. They leave everything they have behind just so that they can get the glory of a victor house. Infinite amounts of money, even though they basically already have that, since they’re rich. They just want to have their names be known for the generations to come. Be the ones to train the next pair of tributes that come on the train.

You don’t know how they’d want that at all. All they do is get the pain of watching the tributes die after they fail to do it properly. Then again, career. Volunteering. They almost always win. The works.

This really is going to suck.

--

LACUNA IS THE FIRST VERSION OF BELAMOUR 

//MASTERLIST//

[cryinginthebackseat]

initials t.c.

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x MC

Words: 7.299 (I’M SO SORRY)

Summary: Tobias Carrick makes Claire an offer she can’t refuse.

Warnings: 50% plot, 50% smut, swear-a-thon, blasphemy

Author’s Note: when the book first introduced us to tobias carrick, the first thing that hit my mind was “okay, but that dude is like the carbon copy of jesse williams and that’s hot” but then, once it reveals who he is and what’s his role in the book i went “interestinggggggg” cause you know, i’m a sucker for morally grey characters and all, and i’m not even ashamed to admit it. also, carrick is shaping up to be such an interesting character with each chapter and maybe one day- okay, maybe this sounds like a pipe dream- but one day, i hope he can be a li (let a girl dream plz) lmao

also if anyone’s interested, i made a PLAYLIST to accompany reading the fic.

the title is inspired by serge gainsbourg’s initials bb

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Cast down off heaven Cast down on my knees I’ve lain with the devil Cursed god above Forsaken heaven

To Bring You My Love - PJ Harvey

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Whenever Claire thinks about Tobias Carrick, admittedly, unfortunately, tragically, she always thinks about his eyes first before remembering what a colossal pain in the ass he is.

It always comes in that order. Like the number 3 always comes before 4, like the seawater dragging back from the shoreline before a tsunami occurs, like pouring milk before the cereal (she honestly didn’t get what the fuss is about until one day Elijah cried ‘oh, hell no you don’t, satan!‘ one morning and proceeded to give her bullet points why pouring the milk before the cereal is considered a sin and more of an abomination than Nephilims’ existence and that there’s a higher probability that she’s a psycho for being a ‘milk first’ kind of person). So apparently, Claire’s a psycho now which explains so many aspects- but she digresses and the point is, the reaction is uncontrollable and she high-key hates how she can’t control her goddamn mind most of the time.

The point is, she needs to stop thinking about him to begin with. 

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Claire Castelnuovo was born in the summer, under the sign of Gemini. Marilyn Monroe once said that stands for intellect, being a Gemini, but she was too blissfully unaware of this guerdon that she devoted her adolescent years to being outdoors instead. Too many days she spent trampling along the cornfields with her cousins until the skies faded out with brilliant purple-tinged amber and she was carrying a piece of the sun in her skin and smelled like one, stuffing wildflowers inside her boots as she walked around the neighborhood with her dad’s old stethoscope, napping in a hammock with Oasis’ All Around the World on repeat. By the time she hit 15, her black strands had turned brown from repeated sun exposure. She loved it.

But it was a different time, a different place. Somewhere that only exists on the margins of her memories, lost and hidden.

Now, Claire prefers the night.

It’s 9:30 pm when she arrives at a hotel bar in downtown Boston. A newly christened establishment which has somehow become a regular spot for Hemingway’s enthusiasts once the Boston Globe wrote an article about their Hemingway Daiquiri and how, as they wrote it, ‘probably the only place that’s brave and crazy enough to adhere to the 1930s original recipe’ and bourgeois party birds at wee hours during the weekend.

Her eyes are gritty, dry and strange. Her mind’s much worse for the wear- she feels like shit, like in the middle of watching that scene from The Green Mile shit when all is hopeless and you feel like walking out of the theater, but you’ve spent your last savings just to buy the ticket, so you decide to stick through it.

Claire makes a beeline for the bar, tries to flag down the bartender. She orders an Old Fashioned, making sure to specify to double it because she’s not a regular here and he’s not Reggie and that’s how she’s been taking her drink for years.

She knows well deep in her bones that she should be somewhere else. Somewhere more familiar, somewhere where Tim Mcgraw often plays from the subpar speakers, and the rustic wooden bar countertop is gouging and discoloring from the cheap household cleaners and alcohol stains, and her friends are cramming together in the same booth in the back, reveling and laughing until they close the bar down and make a mess all over. Perhaps it’s a mistake coming here, where no one’s a familiar face and the drinks are a tad overpriced for her budget.

But then, perhaps this is exactly what she needs; the unfamiliarity, the visceral feeling knowing that she doesn’t belong here, where no one knows her name and the huge deal of weight she’s currently carrying on her shoulders. Perhaps, she can’t face her friends after what happened, after what Esme has done. Shit, how could any of this happen? Claire knows this all on Esme’s, but her guilt has grown hopelessly tangled with her anxiety. She’s her intern, for fuck’s sake, Claire’s supposed to prevent this from happening in the first place.

Man, where’s Declan Nash when she feels like punching someone in the face?

Claire makes the mistake of drinking her drink too quickly, because it hasn’t been ten minutes and she’s drained half of the content. Then she reaches for her phone in her bag, fiddles with it, absent-minded, equal parts bored before then settles on watching the band performing Art Pepper’s You Go To My Head and immediately thinks of that time she accidentally dropped her brother’s saxophone in a moment of her rather graceless, wine-soaked self with the whole family present.

Someone plops down on the empty stool next to her. Claire’s now scrolling through her phone- again, bored. Sienna commented on the post Elijah shared to the group chat with a few unnecessary-yet-totally-necessary emojis to the already convoluted series of texts and Claire only reads them in silence, not only because her friends’ texting behaviors are too chaotic for her to follow sometimes but she’s not really feeling like talking to anyone right now.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Famous last words.

Claire freezes in her seat. Her phone’s still glowing in her hand, alighting her features. She recognizes that voice- too well, that is and it’s enough to set off her flight-or-fight response.

She glances up from her phone, preparing for the worst.

Well, what’s presented before her is literally the worst.

“Of all the gin joints…” she says once her eyes find Tobias Carrick sitting next to her, still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled-up, a few buttons undone, reeking of smoke, soap and antiseptic with a shit-eating grin plastered over his face.

She should have gone to Donahue’s instead.

“Evening to you too, Castelnuovo. Drinking your dinner tonight, I see?”

“What, this? No, this is breakfast. 100% daily value of alcohol and pretty much nothing else. I mean, it’s not the weekend without a bad case of hangover and an aspirin snowglobe in the morning, am I right? You know, like a glass of aspirin? Not a literal snowglobe?” she blabbers, realizing just so by the time she hears him snort. Claire chokes down another sip to shut her mouth up. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m about to commit first-degree murder and burn this whole place to the ground,” he drawls, the ever goddamn sarcastic. “What do you think? I’m trying to get dru-”

“No, I mean what are you doing here, of all places? Can’t you get drunk somewhere else?” she interrupts, her midwest accent does funny things to the vowels and consonants- something that only happens whenever she’s in distress, or at least according to Jackie.

“Last time I heard, this joint’s still owned by the Hilton, not a certain junior member of the Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook hospital.”

“Dude, what do you think of the H in Claire H. Castelnuovo stands for?” Deadpan, trying to keep up with the rolling sarcasm, she retorts. He smirks.

“Horatio?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” she mutters, mid-eye-roll, mid-snickering.

He chuckles, his voice rich and smoky amidst the late-night swing and distant chatters. Carrick doesn’t leave, of course, typically him- if those anecdotes Ethan told her has taught her anything about his character, that is- defying everything, scheming his way to the top, the embodiment of ‘those devilish boys with their heavenly eyes’ type your mother warns you about.

Not that the latter is relevant.

“Or what?” His mouth twitches but there’s a hard, challenging light in his eyes that she knows too well by now.

“Or I’m leaving.“ She shoots him a glare. He’s testing her patience- again, like it’s his finesse. Some things never change, it seems.

“Come on, Castelnuovo, don’t be a sourpuss. The night is young and I can promise you, the last thing I am is a horrible drinking buddy.”

With a touch of irony, she replies: “I’m sure. I bet you asked your friends to fill out a questionnaire every time you went out with them, did you?”

Carrick hums.

“You’re funny.” But he says it in the same tone that someone might say Jesus fuck, you’re probably one of the most frustrating creatures I’ve ever laid eyes on. Also, because the next thing he says is: “A little rough around the edges, but funny nonetheless.”

“That makes one of us then.”

Carrick frowns, which is kind of a surprise because she’s half expected him to flash her that signature cheeky grin of his.

“Listen, I’m just trying to make a friendly conversation here. I know we haven’t really seen eye-to-eye with each othe-”

Claire snorts and crosses her arms over her chest. “That, doctor, is an understatement of the fucking century.”

“Okay so, we’re like Tom and Jerry but sans the background music and a naive little duckling running around calling one of us his momma, but I feel like now’s the time to call out a temporary truce between us.” A beat, then: “I heard about what happened with the intern.”

Something flashes across her face- and Carrick must have noticed it, because his face does this odd thing- it softens, even for a moment. She hates it. He’s not supposed to be looking at her like that, not supposed to see her at her weakest state or saved her ass- And Jesus, why does she have to be indebted to Tobias Carrick, of all people- But god forbid, the last thing she’ll ever do is crying in front of him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, barely audible, trying to temper her fluctuated emotions.

“Then don’t. We can talk about anything else or fall into some sort of endless, meaningless platitudes. Whichever will work.” As if sensing Claire’s lingering hesitation, he adds. “Tell you what, to sweeten the offer, your next drinks are on me.”

She assesses him for a long minute, eyes narrowing. She’s shaking her head, but her mouth, as if against her will, instead says: “Careful, Carrick, there’s a chance I’ll be abusing that offer and run you dry.”

"Hey, if you want to butcher your liver so bad, don’t stop on my account,” he says. “Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure to save your ass again this time around. Pro bono.”

Claire looks as if she’s just swallowed a dead rat. “Thanks, but no thanks. Death seems more like an appealing choice.”

“Well, I stopped death from interfering then, I’ll stop it again.” Carrick winks, she pretends to gag again yet remains still in her seat, so Carrick waves at the bartender for their order- she orders for a refill and he, a martini and Claire is this close from asking 'shaken or stirred?’ but then remembers who he is and immediately washes the question down with her drink.

“You know, if anyone told me weeks ago that I’d be having a drink with you tonight, I probably would have socked them.“

Carrick is in the middle of lighting his cigarette, but laughs instead. “The Times They Are a-Changin’, as Bob Dylan said.” A puff of smoke escapes his mouth, curling around his fingers. Claire instinctively looks away. “Which reminds me of that one time your mentor sang Ballad of A Thin Man on the fucking subway when we were 20.”

She swivels her head to his direction, on the verge of choking on her drink. “Hold on, hold on, Ethan Jonah Ramsey sings?”

“Give him a dare he couldn’t refuse and a few shots of whiskey, and I promise you he’ll sing like Sinatra on crack.” He grins, his eyes are all crinkled and bright; she thinks that means he’s genuinely amused. “Ah, good times. We were like- wait, who was it he’d like to say we’re like again?”

A small smile pulls at her lips. “Bert and Ernie.”

“Jesus, he really fucking compares us to some Sesame Street characters, huh?” She laughs at that, loud and bright. He does the same. “Personally, I’d always say we were like Butch and Sundance back then- rebels with a cause, a band of misfits, trying to leave our marks on the world. You know those types. We were young, we wanted so much- I still do. I mean, let’s be real, whoever’s wanted to be defeated at their own game?”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, not quite a frown.

“Nobody,” Claire concurs, hating herself for it. “But was it worth it? Betraying the closest thing you had to a brother or a lover…” Carrick coughs on his smoke from the latter. “or whatever in the process just to get what you wanted?” Claire was obviously aiming for that brash, hard-hitting jab, but it lands gloriously too soft.

The bartender finally places their ordered drinks down on the bar. Carrick reaches for it, taking a careful swig, then sets his glass down. He takes a deep breath.

"It’s nothing personal. It never was. I never considered him as my rival.”

“Yeah, but by doing whatever you did, you’ve made an enemy out of him,” she counters. “Look, Carrick, I know we live in a dog-eat-dog world and I know being good sometimes doesn’t get the job done. Perhaps Machiavelli was right. Perhaps, when necessary, you have to be ruthless, dissembling and manoeuvring- what did he say again? ‘The end justifies the means’? But if any worthwhile end can justify the means to attain it, if everyone outright surrenders to their darker side, then what’s left of our humanity?”

For an interminable moment, there is only silence. He simply stares at her, as if she’s a walking, talking Rubik’s cube he can’t solve or a book that he has opened and now he’s got to know so much more and she feels pinned under those warm irises, uneasy.

Suddenly, his mouth begins to take shape; the corners hike up, stretch and then he does the unexpected.

The bastard fucking laughs.

“Excuse me?!” she spits, white-hot anger lacing each word. Carrick laughs harder- the audacity- despite Claire’s growing razor’s edge stare. “Did you just laugh at me? I was being fucking seriou-”

“Sorry, sorry.” Wiping an imaginary tear from his left eye. “I was just remembering Harper’s words. She’s right, you really are on the side of the angels, aren’t you?”

She points at him with her glass, snarling. “And you, mister, are the devil himself with a medical degree and an egg head- and I don’t mean the slang for a highly academic person.”

“Ouch,” Carrick says out loud, still kind of laughing, borderline frowning. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“Damn straight. Though you have a lot to apologize for.”

He groans. “Don’t tell me you’re still pissed about that one patient I stole under your nose?”

“The North remembers, ser,” she says, mean-spirited.

“Then does the North remembers that I saved her life?”

“Oh, so you’re discrediting the efforts of the other doctors that helped you make the cure?”

“Alright, alright. You win.” Carrick holds up his hands, the universal gesture of defeat and takes one final drag of his cigarette. He stubs it out, all the while keeping his gaze on her.

“So, how exactly can I make it up to you?“

Claire blinks- once, twice, thrice, realizing his intent. His voice drops an octave and he’s leaning in, close enough for her to notice the constellations of freckles splaying across his face and the way his brown eyes glinted like two shots of whiskey under a stream of light, intense and all-consuming. She feels her mind races, her brains feel as if they underwent a short-circuit and get caught on fire, and the fact that her mind’s on the precipice of exploring the idea is not helping.

A burst of laughter erupts from her throat, not that it’s funny- there’s nothing funny about the situation, but someone ought to diffuse this shift of tension between them, or that was her aim, at least.

“What, you wanna pay me back?” she asks, trying to keep her voice from cracking but failing miserably. Fingers trembling against her glass as she chugs nearly a quarter of her drink in one go.

He notices that.

"A Lannister always pays his debts, does he? If you think that I owe you one, then I’ll gladly pay.” His eyes flick back to her face, searing into her. The air crackles between them. The band is playing a different song now, a sound that only exists on the margin of her attention. If they’re in, say a mid 2000s rom-com movie, someone would probably interrupt this moment and save her from this. But this isn’t a movie.

Claire licks her lips, a candid reaction which encourages him to inch closer- or is it her? She can’t tell anymore. Tracing odd patterns on the palm of her hand with his finger and oh god, this is Carrick, the bane of her fucking existence, she’d shoot him first before she kisses him. But something about the prospect of fucking this bastard twists her insides deliciously into a confused mess.

“How? By fucking me?” she inquires, feigning scandalized- all that Catholic guilt bullshit.

He grins, all-teeth and wolfish and shrugs as if they’re talking about his life insurance policy or shit. “Well, that’s the idea.”

“But you don’t even like me.” It should come out as I don’t even like you, but even she knows that’ll be just another lie she tells.

“On the contrary, I enjoy our rivalry far more than I should, Castelnuovo,” he purrs and places a hand on her knee. Her throat bobs. She’s wearing a skirt, it didn’t seem important then, but now his hand feels warm against her skin, dangling on the edge of impropriety. Like gravity, all it takes is a little push for him to cross that line.

“I should be disliking the way you talk to me, challenging me and putting me on the back foot every goddamn time. I should be focusing on taking you down a peg, but the more I see you, the more I realize you have an attractive kind of power. And I’m just one man. And if there’s anything I learned, the only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.”

But then his movement suddenly ceases. Claire almost asks why.

"However…”

“What?” she stares up at him, eyes wide, breath hitching.

“However if you only accept alcohol as the currency for transactions, then I’ll tell the bartender to get us another round instead,“ he tells her, offering her one last chance to back out from this, from making this mistake with him.

Claire stares into her drink, actually mulling this over. Her mind tells her no, but the other part- the alcohol-infused part of her mind- whispers otherwise. She imagines if Ethan or any of her friends are here, they would probably grab her shoulder and shake the living hell out of her for even reconsidering his offer.

But then again, intelligence, alcohol and desperation have always had a bad history of getting along together.

“What about June?” Claire asks against her better judgement, after a long, considerable pause. Carrick raises a confused brow.

“What about her?”

“I thought you guys…” she trails off, makes a face, feeling all-kind of flustered and aroused and wow, she’s really doing this, huh? “I mean, I don’t know- I don’t wanna get in between you guys.”

“Nah. It was only a three time thing, but there’s never been anything between us.” He chuckles at Claire’s askance look. “If you don’t believe me, you can fact-check it with the woman herself,” Carrick adds, looking at her dead-on with his eyes like he wants to get the message across.

She regards him silently for a long second, and maybe she’s a touch drunk now, maybe the bartender put something in her drink, or maybe she just needs to blow off some steam after what’s been happening in these past few weeks and Carrick happens to be a decent warm body for the occasion, but Claire finds herself shifting closer.

"Then I want you to pay me back.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” she answers, more sure this time, more determined.

Her nose bumps his, his breath fanning across her face all the while Carrick’s slightly pushing her skirt up, letting his fingertips travel higher. His eyes keep darting back and forth from her eyes and lips, checking for her reaction. There is no inhibition here, not anymore. People might be watching- heck, they could be already watching and it terrifies her that she doesn’t give a damn about it.

“But if you tell anyone about this, I swear to god… ” she warns and a shadow of mirth passes across his eyes, making her almost regretting this. Almost.

“Claire, darling.” It’s the first time he’s ever said her name and her stomach does a tango. “Your secret is safe with me.“ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

He gets them a room in the hotel, it’s on the twentieth floor. Carrick handles the accommodation- he can afford it, apparently, which is not really surprising and the nuisating check-in procedure while Claire only waits in the lobby like a beautiful, agitated china doll amidst the turbulent sea the whole time until he comes back, flashes the room key at her and beckons her to follow.

She goes ahead of him, but he catches up. His body heat sends her anxiety rocketing sky-high through the roof as they walk next to each other, hands briefly brushing against one another but she ignores that (or at least she tries).

They are silent in the elevator, they are silent even once they reach the designated floor and walk down the hall to their room where the dim and shadowed lights follow their steps like vultures.

Carrick holds open the door for her and she enters, taking in the windows and the striking view of Boston skyline peeking behind the curtains, the TV and the queen-sized bed. The latter does nothing to assuage the anticipation that’s bubbling in the pit of her stomach, by the way.

Claire hears him shut the door, locking both bolts. She peers at him over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. Their eyes meet, neither speaks. He’s taking off his black peacoat, back against the door, he’s looking at her as if wanting her is his full-time occupation and the realizations comes in like a mule kick, how that tiny voice inside her head, the one that tells her that this is a bad idea and she’s better off leaving never comes.

The room is not considerably huge (with $110 per night, you would have expected you’d get a bigger room), he could easily have her in six large steps, yet he stands there. Sizing her up, smirking rather devilishly, handsomely as if challenging her to make the first move. It’s another fucking game with him. A display of power, waiting who would fall first.

Claire finally turns around to face him. With a renowned determination, she removes her coat, letting it fall unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. Her blouse follows next and her skirt, which she tugs it oh so slowly down her legs.

Carrick’s eyes widen, if she doesn’t know better, she thinks he’s speechless. He takes a deep breath, his gaze religiously following every movement as she twirls around once more to unhook her bra. His jaw clenches and unclenches. He’s having a hard time keeping himself in check which she takes an immense pleasure in. Claire just wants to see the man squirm for a change, even if she has to shed every article of clothing she wears.

By the time she slips off of her underwear, she is breathing raggedly. He hasn’t yet approached her so she crawls onto the bed, lying on her back with one elbow props her up, legs crossed. She kicks off her heels, rolls down her stockings with a bit of that noir come-hither, Lauren Bacall-esque heavy bedroom eyes.

Finally, Carrick steps closer until he’s only a hair’s breadth away, like a target, filling her line of sight. The tension in the room is hot enough to send the thermometer reaching its maximum limit and she’s burning, burning, burning right through the core.

Claire cranes her head up to meet his gaze, noticing the way he’s drinking in her body like a pirate ogling a bottle of rum. High-strung, tense, Carrick lowers his head to her, his fingers carding through her long hair. Dimness consumes him raw, his silhouette is starting to find its place amongst the shadows except for his eyes. Never does the fire in his eyes falter, merely alight.

They are already nose-to-nose when Claire suddenly raises her hand over his lips. He withdraws from her, looking confused and hot and bothered.

“Take a seat over there, will you?” She motions to the settee near the bed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He smirks, but she can see his bravado if faltering. “Ordering me around in the bed now, are we?”

“Didn’t you say tonight is about you making it up to me?”

“Touche, touche.” Carrick straightens his posture and makes his way to the settee across from her, shifting uncomfortably in his seat given the growing issue in his pants.

With eyes still trained to his, Claire cups her own breast, fingers pinching her pebbled nipple before the same hand travels lower down her stomach, her thighs. Carrick leans forward in his seat, obviously liking where this is going before Claire slowly and teasingly part her legs for him to see.

A surprised groan escapes him.

“Jesus, Claire,” Carrick hisses. “Fuck, I didn’t know you’re a goddamn tease.”

She doesn’t bother replying to him, but a winning grin finds its way across her face as she lays on her back, her shame and modesty are distant, knees pulled up so he can have a clear view of her. With two fingers, she runs them along her folds, dragging them slowly up to her clit. Claire imagines they are his fingers- which once upon a time would have horrified her, but tonight, as she repeats the motion over and over, knowing that he’s sitting there, watching her without being able to get his hands on her, she decides to submit to this newfound fantasy.

A rustle pulls her back to reality. He’s undoing his own pants, palming his cock, runs his fingers over the leaking head.

A low moan catches in her throat at that, her gaze snapping up from his erection to his face where his irises have darkened and pupils dilated. He wants to show her, that’s he’s as depraved as her when it comes to wanting, that he fucking wants her and in spades and she fails to think like a normal human being anymore.

Claire uses that image to work on herself harder, faster, feeling the intense pressure beginning to build beneath her fingers. She’s so wet now, despite him being able to see that, she wants him to hear it as well as she uses her idle hand to tap against herself. Carrick growls, his pace matching the rhythm she’s setting.

She slips her fingers inside her, drops her head back against the mattress and bites a loud moan that threatens to escape her lips. Flushing scarlet all over her abdomen, her breasts and up to her neck. Her blood thumping louder than bombs in her ears, her breaths begin to come in gasps.

Another fast and hard thrust from fingers, and Claire finds herself sighing his name.

“Tobias…”

And every last bit of his self-restraint snaps.

In just a blink of an eye, Carrick is already on his feet, grabs her waist, harshly, and tugs her down onto the edge of the bed where he’s now kneeling before her. He doesn’t bother with the teasings or soft kisses or caresses, and even before Claire has the time to register what’s happening, he crushes his face between her parted legs and eats her out.

She gasps, high and fleeting, twisting the bed sheet between her fists while his tongue flicks over her, moving back up, back down, lapping along her folds in the same motions she showed him with her hand, how she likes it. Claire forgets how to breathe. It just occurs to her just how arousing the sight of him on his knees like this, sending her mind hitchhiking into outer space.

“Oh, fuck.” She breathes, back arching on the bed with a drawn-out moan. “Fuck, Tobias!” Her hips gyrate over his mouth and she presses her heels against his shoulder blades. She’s so close. All she needs is a little push to send her careening into oblivion and it seems that Carrick can sense it because he brings two digits to her entrance and slides easily inside her, setting a ruthless pace.

With her hands reaching out to the back of his head, Claire cries out his name and trembles violently. Encouraged, Carrick curves his fingers inside her, hitting that exact spot that finally undoes her as she comes, long and hard, around his mouth and fingers- the kind of orgasm that you can feel deep in your bones- and watches as fireworks dance behind her lids.

When she finally comes down from her high, everything is hazy. It’s like waking up from a deep slumber after a decadent soak in a scented bath and she loses all orientation, until she feels him nipping the inside of her thighs. She hisses, glances down, heavy-lidded eyes finding Carrick is leaving bruises after bruises all over her skin like some kind of a lewd memento of his work, like he wants her to remember this the next time she wakes up in her own bed and he’s not there.

"Are you trying to turn me into a Na'vi, doctor?” She asks, still kinda breathless, feeling surprisingly conversational despite having just experienced, if not, one of the best orgasms in her life. He smiles against her thigh and withdraws from her, only after her thighs are sufficiently bruised enough, licks his fingers clean and stands up at the end of the bed.

“Maybe. You’d make a cute blue extraterrestrial creature, though,” he replies cheekily, then undoes the button of his shirt, showcasing his naked torso.

Claire feels her cheeks heating up again, but forces herself to stare; eyes following his pectoral muscles, down to the toned lines of his abdomen while he slides off of his pants. The man is one fine specimen, alright, and he knows- smug bastard- and she thinks it’s such a shame that Carrick is… well, Carrick. If the man learns how to shut up for one minute or avoid trying to sabotage everyone’s career at Edenbrook altogether, maybe, just maybe, she’d consider him.

“But honestly, I just wanted to hear you say my name again,” Carrick continues, crawling his way up to her, pulling her out of her musings. He settles between her thighs. His lips finding her ear and nibbling at the lobe while his fingers pinching and pulling at her nipple. Claire shivers. Nails scraping along his skin, raising angry marks that would certainly be there tomorrow.

When they kiss, it’s so good that she can’t help but curl her toes. He kisses her like he’s trying to steal her breath or her name. She can taste herself in his mouth, which sparks so many feelings inside her. Her mind’s foggy, sweat pooling on her forehead. Carrick is but shoves his tongue into her mouth, lapping at her, biting, sucking and she leans hard into the kiss, retaliates by scraping her teeth against his bottom lip. It spurs him on. Making his cock twitch against her thigh and Claire decides she can’t wait anymore.

Claire rolls her hips at him. He takes the hint and rolls over to grab a condom from his pants. Then he’s back on top of her, his weight and heat crushing her most deliciously and brings her body further up the bed with him; she drapes her legs around his hips, hands gripping his arms. Her lust and anticipation collaborate to the point of near madness.

Carrick nips the taut line of her jaw and drives himself into her.

They both groan in unison.

“Oh, fuck.” Carrick mumbles between shaky breaths, his face pressed against her throat. “Fucking hell, Claire, you feel so warm.”

Claire, on the other hand, goes rigid under him. Her mouth hangs open and her world narrows down to the feeling of his cock inside her and the pleasure that builds up again in her abdomen.

This is happening, she thinks, he’s inside her and it feels so amazing. She might as well be crazy for agreeing to do this with him in the first place, but the promise of the thrill beats the doubts.

He starts slow, just the smallest fraction of hips, gently thrusting back and forth in shallow motions. She whines, frustrated and impatient, raising her own hips to meet his, but Carrick’s weight pins her onto the mattress and she can’t fucking move.

“F-faster,” Claire stammers, her molars grinding like toothache.

The bastard smirks, like he’s been anticipating the word coming out of her mouth.

“Beg for it.” His words are punctuated with every unhurried stroke he’s giving her, teasing her and if she’s not in the middle of being fucked right now, she would have kicked him in the balls.

Growling, she swallows her plea by pulling Carrick down for another kiss. This time, she’s the one who does the biting and the sucking, making sure he’s distracted enough and then just like with all the things she does in her life, she takes the matter into her own hands.

With all her strength, she scrambles up, pushes him off of her and knocks him onto his back flat on the bed. When she swings her legs to straddle him, his eyes pop.

“Holy shit, you are feisty.”

“Only cause I’m angry and horny,” she bites off. Angling herself above him and with one hand, guides his shaft back to her opening. “And you- you weren’t doing a proper job fucking me.”

He smirks. “I was trying to wind you up.”

“Fuck you.”

She lowers herself and sinks back onto his cock, relishing in his moans and growls.

“Baby, you’re doing it.” His hands curling around her waist, his head falls back onto the bed, exposing his throat and Claire is so hard-pressed not to bite him there.

Claire ignores his smartassness, naturally, and lifts herself, drops back down. Slamming her hips into his until she’s bouncing on him. Nails clawing at his chest. Finally be able to set a pace she desperately craves for, finally wiping that smirk off of his face.

Under her, Carrick is biting his lip in an effort to not to lose control. His hands are everywhere now; her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her cheeks. Leaving fire on its wake. She might still hate him after this is strange, little arrangement is over but at this juncture, he’s exactly the remedy she needs after everything.

Then Carrick wraps his arms around her and picks up the pace, thrusting into her hard and fast. Claire shakes. She can’t catch her breath, her forehead pressed on his shoulder, her teeth latching onto his skin. Breathing a string of 'fuckfuckfuck’ while he squeezes her ass and continues to fuck her with careless abandon.

"Tobias.” Her moans amplify. She’s close to climaxing again, her legs quivering. Eyes wide shut. “Please, please.” So much for not begging.

He pulls her to him so their foreheads meet. Their lips brush against each other, but they aren’t kissing, merely trading breaths. A hand touches her cheek and her lids flutter open, finding his eyes- those depthless, amber eyes that pretty much lead her to this point, are watching her, pulling her in.

“Say it again,” he encourages darkly, face twists in pleasure. “My name. Say it again.”

She does it again, it comes out as a groaned whisper, repeating it over and over again like a sacred mantra.

Her second orgasm sweeps through her, making her spine arches, it tears a winded moan from her throat and it’s more than enough to trigger Carrick’s own release; fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips, groaning gutturally.

Panting, sore but sated, Claire collapses on top of his chest, his arm still drapes around her. The rise and fall of his breath lull her to sleep. Before she knows it, he gently rolls her to his side, pulling the covers for them and kisses her on the shoulder, which comes out as… odd for her.

The bed moves and she feels him leaving.

He’s leaving.

He’s leaving.

She doesn’t know why it stings, but it does. But also Claire opts not to pay no mind to it and forces her mind to surrender to sleep that once again tries to take hold.

Claire wishes she doesn’t dream of him that night, but she does.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s way past midnight when she wakes up. The room is dark. The curtains are closed. She’s still naked and sore under the covers, mind reeling in from what has just transpired.

One might ask in which universe does Claire Castelnuovo agree to sleep with Tobias Carrick? Well, apparently they did it in this one and oddly still, she doesn’t regret it. Though she’s still low-key sad that he left her straight after sex, but hey, what can she do about it? This arrangement itself is nothing but a means to an end, anyway, a perverse alternative for him to pay back what he allegedly owes her, she shouldn’t be surprised if he left after the ‘debt’ is paid.

Feeling her mood somehow takes an unexpected dip, she gets us from the bed and gathers her clothes on the floor.

She’s in the middle of zipping up her skirt when the bedside lamp flickers and comes on.

Claire turns around. Carrick, rousing from sleep, looks at her, rubbing his eyes and stifles a yawn. His lips still tinged from her kisses and bites.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, voice still raspy from sleep and Claire thinks her mouth is hanging open, standing rooted to the spot like a spider on an icicle; frozen in time.

For a moment, she does nothing but stares at him, being rendered speechless. For many times, Tobias Carrick never fails to surprise her. Just when she thinks she has him all figured out, he comes sneaking in through her windows like a thief in the night and it just strikes her, how he really is an uncharted territory for her. Despite her having him pinned under her, exploring the hard planes of his body under the touches just a few hours ago.

The man is like a fucking myth, at this point. She knows him only from stories and her limited time around him, but who is exactly Tobias Carrick? Is he the competitive doctor at Mass Kenmore, the Machiavellian asshole that severed his friendship/relationship with Ethan for the sake of his greed and ambition? Or is he, Tobias Carrick, the man who saves her life, makes her laugh and kisses her shoulder in the afterglow?

She’ll probably never know.

“Yeah, my roommates will probably deploy a search party if I don’t come home tonight,” she replies, distracted, finally finding her own voice back. He nods, feigning disappointment- or is he not? She clears her throat and continues putting on her clothes. “I thought you left.”

He chuckles at the absurdity of her deduction. “And without saying goodbye?” Carrick rolls off of the bed and rises to his feet. He’s already wearing his pants- thank fuck for that- and approaches her. “I may be an asshole, Castelnuovo, but just so you know, my mother raised me better than that.”

So they’re back to their usual last name basis perimeter. That’s good, right? After all of this, she thinks a little familiarity would be nice for her sanity.

“Good to know, then.”

Silence encompasses the room. It’s awkward and overwhelming and it throws her a little off-balance. At the bar, they seemed to know exactly what to say to each other- especially him; but now, even she can sense the hesitation in his gait, at the way he’s looking at her and a faint alarm is trilling her head. Because if he’s making this awkward, she can do a whole lot of worse.

"Oh, before you ask, that makes up for pretty much everything, yeah. I mean, it’s alright.” You fucking dumbass, she thinks to herself, averting his gaze while a smile blooms on his face.

“Good to know, then.” He parrots her words and she huffs a laugh, freely and sweetly, like she’s currently not knee-deep in her problems or she’s just fucked the most incorrigible man that ever exists. He does too, but his gaze lands on her mouth before going back to her eyes.

Another silence passes. It’s time to go.

“I have to go now.”

He nods mutely and moves away so Claire can step past him.

She wears her coat. In the mirror, she still looks thoroughly fucked; her hair’s dishevelled, she smells like him now, but she really needs to go. She promises herself that this will be a one time thing because, Jesus fuck, she’s supposed to be smarter than this. She’s not fifteen anymore, and this is not the summer where she can watch the sunset from the cornfields with her cousins even though his eyes possess the same color.

Yet she walks toward the door in a daze, like she’s forgetting something but can’t pinpoint what it is.

“Can I-”

“Hey, do you-”

She stops, mid-turning, and closes her mouth. She doesn’t realize she’s interrupting him.

“Oh, sorry,” Claire says, embarrassed. “You go first, it’s alright.”

“Can I have your number?” he asks, uncharacteristically hesitant.

She thinks he’s joking or maybe he’s just feigning interest, but one look at his eyes and she can tell that this isn’t smoke and mirrors.

The eyes, chico. They never lie. It’s dumb, but that line from Scarface is the first thing that comes to her mind. That’s why when she hands him her phone, her hand is shaking slightly. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from grinning like a maniac.  

Claire takes a cursory glance at her phone once he returns it. He saved his number solely as t.c. with the water drop, the syringe, the ghost, the eggplant, the firework emoji and she chuckles endearingly, questioning the universe how he can easily get both a rise and a laugh out of her.

“I’ll text you?” Carrick asks again and she nods a little too enthusiastically at it, but what the hell?

“Sure.”

“Alright.” He takes one look at her, steps closer and for a moment, she thinks he might be going to kiss her.

“Goodnight, Claire,” Carrick says instead and she nods, admitting the fact that he’s not going to do it.

“Goodnight to you too, Tobias.” Then pauses at the doorway, feeling surprisingly bold. “I gotta give it to you, though, for someone who’s become the bane of my existence for months, you’re a damn good lay.”

He barks out a laugh, obviously, that Claire can hear all the way down the hall. And she thinks she can get used to the sound.

                                                         fin.

Tag list: @villain-fuckarooni @beckaroo @arfeiniel​ @this-person-is-busy @colossalpainintheass​ @drethanramslay @hatescapsicum @theeccentricbibliophile

[cutegirlmayra]

Soler’s Story (Sonic OC Commission) - All Current ROUGH DRAFTS example

This is all writings for @solerwolf21 compiled into a huge post. If you’d like to commission me for your own story, please check out my rules and prices first (We can discuss how much you want to pay depending on how many pages you want the story to be :)b)

This is super long, so please remember that ^^ (This contains several chapters and separate commission purchases.) - and Yes, you can pay again for a continuation of the last story I wrote you. :)b

The Sun’s Redemption

After some minor missions with the Freedom Fighters, Soler was documenting his findings on a recent Eggman attack, recounting the parts and dimensions of the new robot designs him and the other fighters found for Tails and Rotor to look into later. He liked being useful like this, and Tails and Rotor seemed genuinely thankful for keeping a record like this.

Soler, while fiddling with the documents, pushed his quills back and pulled the lower ones down to their natural curl upwards. It was a fluid movement, the white of his fur with the peach oval and white tuff that barely looped his shoulders shimmered slightly in the low lighting of the base…

His deep blue streaks over his quills glistened lightly as he passed the hallway lights into the office rooms of the secret base, deep in the brush of nature, and away from Eggman’s ever-searching eye.

The paper flipped over his white gloves with black crossing lines in the center of them, counting the pages to make sure he had everything from the rest of his team that were with him during the mission. His emerald green eyes scanned the documents until satisfied with what was written upon them.

The tapping of his crimson shoes with the same x-marked pattern overlapping each other rang with low toned echoes against the hard floor.

While he was about to finish setting the piles of notes and observations onto a nearby desk, he heard a loud and disapproving whine that turned his ears towards the commotion.

‘Huh?’ he thought to himself as he looked to see Amy pestering Sonic again.

“You never have any time for me!” she complained, shoving her arms straight down and closing her eyes as she trailed behind him. “Can’t we… I don’t know, have a picnic or something?” she shrugged, a pleading look in her eyes. “I just miss you… you’ve been working a lot lately and-” Soler noticed Sonic was preoccupied with other things, keeping her mostly taking to his back. She reached for a back quill of his, a longing look in her sorrowful eyes before he turned around.

“Not now Amy,” he stated, but it wasn’t harsh or dismissive in the least bit. Mostly, he was just busy, looking over at his communication watch and fanning some other people away from trying to speak with him further as well. “Maybe we can all hang out other time.” he didn’t even look up to acknowledge her, so whatever he was doing, it must have been pretty important.

Amy took a few steps after him, her hand still reaching before stopping and holding her hands close to her chest.

“...Maybe…” was she questioning him or agreeing to his statement? Soler couldn’t tell.

Seeing her face though… he felt something in his heart go out to the girl.

It made him a little mad, to say the least.

He wandered over, trying to not draw too much attention to himself and looked off after Sonic, standing next to Amy. “...He’s probably just protecting you.” He stated, “Doesn’t want…” he stopped himself, looking down and seeming forlorned now. “To cause you any pain.” Soler’s body froze up, little protruding icicles pierced slowly against his skin. It was aggravating, to say the least. Here’s someone who cares so much about Sonic, and yet, he doesn’t know what he has. No… it’s opposite. Amy doesn’t realize how much danger she places herself in… just because he exists.

‘Existence… So many lives could be spared if just certain people didn’t exist.’ He frowned inwardly for a moment before turning his attention back to Amy, giving her a plucky smile. “He’ll be okay. It’s you he’s probably worried about.”

“Huh?” Amy tilted her head, looking confused on his thought process. “Soler?” she shifted her body and came him a cute pout, placing her hands on her hips and leaning forward in authority. “I’m your senior fighter, sir! What makes you think I can’t take care of myself?”

“Come on, Soler! I’m a big girl now! Can’t you let me run up the hill on my own for a change?”

“Gah..!”

Soler shook his head, blinking his eyes as he stepped back.

‘Was that… it can’t be.’

“Soler?” Amy leaned away, seeming worried her joke may have frightened him. “I-... I didn’t mean to make you jumpy. You alright?”

She leaned her hand up to his head, “You seem a little pale… well, paler than usual, haha!” she kid again, but there was a fear in his eyes as he skittishly moved away from her hand.

“I… I have to go. Sorry.” he quickly looked away, rushing out as Amy hollered after him.

“Soler! Wait!” she took off after him. “What’s going on? What’s his problem anyway?” she pouted, worried she may have hurt his feelings.

Up on a hill near a shady tree while the winds beat against the leaves and the sun still peeked over the grassy plain, hanging on to the horizon’s ledge outside the Freedom Fighter’s base was Soler, sitting under the tree and sighing with a sniff in his nose.

He wasn’t crying, just cold.

His body shivered slightly and warmed himself up with a few rubs on his arms and legs. He didn’t mean to shove his business into Amy’s life… she was her own person, and he usually found her adoration for Sonic sweet. But today he just felt like it could have been…

“Luna!” Soler was much younger now, rushing up the hill as he stumbled a little but held his footing. “Your father’s worried sick about you!”

A beautiful silver-quilled hedgehog with quills that blew gracefully in the wind stood in front of the setting sun, smiling towards it before turning just ever so slightly towards Soler. The smile made him pause in his stride to her, admiring the breathtaking silhouette of the girl. It had taken him a while to own up to his feelings, but now that he had, it was a bit overwhelming to say the least. Her purple dress trailed to the side of her as she moved her blue bangs away from eye.

“And what about you, Soler..?” she giggled, “Are you worried about me too?”

He held the necklace she used to wear, silver with a sphere of black that would light up according to the moon’s glowing phase. It would be out soon… then he could see what the moon looked like. Clouds blocked his vision the last few nights, so the necklace was like holding a miniature moon in his hands. It was her namesake… and because of her, it was his treasure.

She didn’t seem so far when the moon came out. Maybe Amy felt like that too. As long as she could still be around Sonic, it wasn’t so bad…

‘Amy… I’m sorry.’ he gripped his white chest fur… bending down slightly at the pain of guilt that fed into his heart and locked itself away with no windows to let some air in and relieve him of the agony.

Was he just doomed to cause pain and trouble?

“Soler!”

His head flicked up, shocked to hear his name shouted so close to the edge of the Base’s secret camp. “A-Amy?” he turned back, but couldn’t see anything within the heavy forested jungle…

His eyes scanned with a squint that helped him see a little crisper—the fine details of the landscape—but still, no pink dots were popping up.

He was about to get up and search for her, worried she may be in trouble, or most likely get into it. But as he stepped his foot out to get under himself and stand, Amy charged from behind and tackled him. He reflexed and used his training to stiffen his arms out on the ground, keeping him from tumbling over as she laughed and released him, sitting beside him next to the tree.

“Got you! Haha! What are you doing way out here? Admiring the fading sunbeams?” she grinned eagerly, wanting to speak with him as she looked over the sunset… “It’s beautiful.” she commented, “Because it won’t set forever.”

He seemed confused, turning around and tried to hold back any frustration he felt at being spooked. It was… kinda funny, but it really surprised him!

“W-what are you doing here? I could have accidentally fought you off if you hadn’t said anything!” he dusted himself off and sat back down, looking a bit like he wanted to scold her but held it back. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re not hurt.” he sighed, relaxing back and letting the tension leave his body.

“I really surprised you, huh?” she laughed before looking over at the colors in the darkening sky again. “Sonic says the same thing…”

Soler looked away, feeling bad again. “About today... “ he began, scratching the back of his head as he sat more upright, not wanting to slouch. “Pink… I’m sorry about what I said.” he held his hands together out in front of him, loosely, only having the fingers intertwined.

“I wish I wasn’t there. Then I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“What?” Amy turned back to him, not sure what he was getting at. “What are you talking about? I’m happy you’re here.” she gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “I’m not sure what prompted the sudden warning, but I’m sure it was out of kindness.”

He turned away. “Yeah… well… I’m still sorry for disturbing you. You and Sonic… that’s completely different than mine…”

“Your..? Your what?” Amy removed the hand from his shoulder, tilting her head further in her confusion. “Soler… is there something you want to talk about?”

He flinched, “N-not really…” he looked back at the sun, hoping to change the subject. “You said something about the sun’s beauty being so because it fades? What do you mean by that?” He thought fast, a bit interested, but mostly to get her on another topic.

She did just that, starting to ramble. “Hehe! The colors, silly! The sight doesn’t last forever… that’s what makes it so beautiful. You have to be there, in the moment, the fleeting colors spread across the sky and capture your heart and imagination… What’s beautiful is that you treasure it longer because it’s not there all the time.”

He clung to his lunar necklace…

“The sun has to leave so the moon can rise and give a whole new experience to the earth…”

He turned his head away, closing his eyes tightly shut as the pain of his heart’s pricking icicles suddenly turned deadly and twisted into the sides of his heart.

“I know.” His voice wavered a moment, his true feelings coming out. “I know what that means.”

“...Soler?” Amy tenderly turned back, “Ah! Are you hurt!?” she moved in front of him, reaching out to see what he was clutching too.

His eyes opened wide, a new memory resurfacing…

“You’re hurt!”

Luna charged after him, seeing him trying to hide his wound.

“It’s fine.” He tried to gently usher her away, not wanting her to feel bad about his own injury. “It was…” he looked up a moment, seeing her eyes sparkle in their loving care. “...Worth it.” he was taken aback a moment. Never in his lonely life had he seen someone take so much time out of their own life to care about him this much.

“Nonsense! Here, let me dress that for you.” She stubbornly coaxed him down to the ground, getting out some natural medicine made from the surrounding plant life around her home village and began to treat him. He winced back at the pain, biting his jaw into place as he tried to not show it in front of her. He wanted to grin and bear it, but it wasn’t about trying to act cool in front of her. He just didn’t want her to suffer… watching him bleeding.

“You didn’t have to do that…” she commented, fixing him up before tightening the bandages as he held in another painful cry, puffing his cheeks up with air. ‘Mercy…’ he thought to himself. She smiled at his cute attempt to swallow the air back down but knew what it all meant. “But I’m very grateful you did.” she held him in a stare for a moment, but it felt like a long while to him. Looking into her eyes… was like watching a constellation go by…

She turned with a blush, “So is my father-!” she chimed in, clearing her throat at her obvious nerves that spiked as he didn’t look away from her. “A-and my village! We’re all in debt to your sacrifice and-and…”

He shook his head, a softer side coming out of him as his face turned to one of hope.

“As long as you’re alright, that’s all that matters.”

She turned back to him,... a little boldly, she cupped his face and smiled, hiding her face a bit as she dipped her head shyly and let hair slightly cover her weakened features from his kind words. “Thank you…”

She left it at that and scurried away, but his eyes never left hers, shaking at the touch that filled his cheek with a heat he hadn’t experienced before.

At the time, he didn’t mean anything much by it, only that he was happy to be a hero for a day. But after some time… he realized how much those words really meant,... in a moment… like that…

“Soler? You’re shaking!” Amy worriedly moved away. The daydream state he was in broke and he adjusted himself.

“S-sorry!” he kicked back to get himself sitting uprightly again, “I-I’ve been thinking back a lot on someone lately… it’s… it’s not something you need to concern yourself with though… it’s a sad story.” he thought that may sway her away from asking further, but instead, she sat comfortably down and put her head in her two hands, her elbows resting on the sides of her legs which were in the Indian-style position.

“...You’re not backing down… are you?” Soler smiled, he liked to see her this energetic and invested in people’s lives.

Maybe it would be okay… to tell her a thing or two about himself…

“...Her name was…” he choked up a minute, having to swallow. “Luna…”

As his tale went on, Amy began to tear up, hearing about the village and the girl he loved murdered right before his eyes. “It was all because of me. Neo Metal Sonic framed Shadow, murdered Luna to bring out my power through extreme stress and trauma…” he gripped his hands tightly, shaking them in renewed rage. “Now that I can fight, I want to protect those who can’t protect themselves! I want to make sure no one suffers as much as I did… as much as she did… as they all did…” he looked away. “It’s just better if I wasn’t around, you know? They could have lived their lives in gentle bliss. Up against the windy hills… the soft dirt and the clearest skies I’ve ever seen…” he looked up, seeing the daylight fade into the night.

“Oh!” he quickly fumbled to get his necklace, looking at the shape begin to take form and glow in it.

“Look!” he excitedly turned to show Amy, as she covered her mouth at how excited he looked to witness Luna’s pendant light up as the sun disappeared. “It’s just like you said… she would be here if…” he looked up into the sky. “If…” the glow from the pendant radiated the sight of the moon that rose quickly to the sky in front of him.

It was… amazing.

“It’s a Waning Gibbous or shrinking moon.” He explained, gazing at the stars as they began to come to life before his eyes. He was at peace for a moment, but his heart was still breaking from the ice that fell against the cold cave of his heart. “This is the first phase after the Full Moon occurs. It lasts about 7 days, with the Moon's illumination getting smaller each day until becoming a Last Quarter Moon... then it’ll shine at around half it’s normal glow. It rises after sunsets…” he looked at his necklace, his eyes arching back. “I hate that people can’t be happy unless I’m gone…”

“Nooo!!!” Amy leaped up, her eyes pouring out a storm of tears. “Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that!”

“W-woah!” He scooted back a bit, hitting himself against the tree. “What’s wrong?! Why are you crying!?” he freaked out, worried it was his fault somehow.

“Because she loved you so much!” she began to bawl, moving her hands to her eyes in a little bundle of a fist, crying into them. “Whahhha!!! You loved each other so much! I’m so sorry, Soler! But she wouldn’t want you to go away! She was happy with you!” she wiped her tears away quickly, sniffling and trying to compose herself.

“She was… happy…” Soler dipped his head down, “That’s the problem. She could have continued being happy if I never-”

“NOOOO!!!!” she cried harder, making him flinch back and stay silent this time.

‘W-what’s gotten into her?!’ he was a little freaked out, as Amy continued on.

“You gave her something that no one else could! I believe in destiny, and I believe—that no matter what you think—you two were made to find and save each other. Without her, would you have ever really ventured out to learn about your powers? Find Shadow? Us?”

He remained silent, but a slight bit of sunlight melted some of the cold that had formed in his heart.

“You’re like the sun, Soler! That’s what she loved about you!” Amy leaped forward, grabbing his hands.

“Ah!” he was a bit shocked by her boldness, but this was nothing new.

“You warmed their lives! You may not have been able to control your powers very well, but you did whatever you could to provide for them. Life can’t grow without the sun’s energy, Soler! You gave them something that they loved more than anything! You’re the reason they held such happy smiles on their faces! She loved cause you were you and you were there!” With a heavy heart, he starts to think back on the village. Were they happier before he came..?

No… they were terrified.

But after he came?

They were at peace… children could play safely in the streets and Luna’s Father ruled without worrying about dangers rising up to strike them. They were kept in the dark of their homes in constant panic… but when he showed up… when he came…

He felt a tear roll down his eye, and lifted an amazed finger to it, touching it as it moved.

“But they were taken from me… right before my eyes.” he closed his eyes, letting himself cry in front of her now, unable to hold it back as the ice in his heart that was melting away came out of his eyes. “They ended up suffering worse because of me! I was a little resistant to love them back at first… now I know why… I mean… if I had never gone to that village… I wouldn’t have… she… they all would have lived, wouldn’t they?” he looked at his soaked gloves. “These powers… I don’t know why I have them. All I know is that without Shadow’s help, I couldn’t have learned how to master them. Now I can save those people I couldn’t have before.”

“Soler… they loved you.” Amy moved back, “Why is that so hard to grasp? Even at the end, they were happy… they never could have had that joy if you weren’t there protecting them. Even with your powers untrained… you did everything you could to give them the life they had always wanted. I know if they were here—no… if Luna was here! She’d want you to shine for all the world! Giving light and hope, warmth and safety, to all those who have never known a loving, passionate, burning light like that before!” Amy withdrew her arms only to spring them out wide as the moon shone above her.

“Luna loved you! She loved you cause you were exactly what she needed! She could be the soft glow that lit up the darkness from your lonely, dreary life. She guided you to a purpose… and you gave her everything she had never known before! Soler! You gotta see yourself through her eyes!”

“...Through… her eyes..?”

“Soler…”

Luna turned to him, looking peaceful and relaxed as they sat before the sunset.

“Promise me… when you become the man you want to be… that you’ll never forget moments like this?”

“...What do you mean?” He turned to her, smiling as well as they held hands.

“Hehe!” she giggled, blushing but holding his hand a little tighter back.

“That no matter who needs it. You’ll always shine a ray of hope on whoever needs you. Promise me that?”

“Of course. That’s my only goal in life.”

“It’s a dream, Soler… a dream you can live in the broad daylight.” she looked up at the sun. “...I love that part of you, Soler. The part that won’t let himself be taken by the darkness…”

“Luna…” Soler remembered his dark side… and quickly wanted to warn her about it. “Luna, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Whatever it is, I know you’ll get through it.” she gave him a close-eyed smile, before hopping up and twirling around. “Ohh!!! The moon will be out soon! Quick! Tell me and then we can guess which phase it will be tonight!”

“B-but that’s not fair!” he laughed, “You always know what the moon’s going to be. It’s in your necklace!” she laughed and hid her secret.

“Whhhattt..? You calling me a cheater?” she teased, rushing off.

“Hey! Luna!” he took off after her, as she beckoned him on.

He ended up not telling her, always wanting her to believe he was better than what he thought he really was…

“Then that’s what I’ll do.” He gripped his pendant, standing up. “I’ll make sure to be the Sunrise… for someone trapped in the powers of that intimidating darkness… just like her and her village.” he gave a look of determination to the moon. “I promised her.”

Amy wiped the rest of her tears away, drying them up as she nodded at his new resolve. “Good. I’m with you on that one!” she gave him a thumbs up, and he looked kindly down to her.

“Sonic deserves you, Pinky. I’m sorry I thought it was wrong for you to try and be so close to him.” he offered her his hand.

“Ha! Love conquers all!” she took his hand and got up, heading back to base and waving to him. “You coming?”

“Just a minute!” he called back, looking out into the night…

An engine flared in the distance…

“What? It can’t be!” he could have sworn he knew that noise…

His teeth were borne and he looked behind him. “Run, Amy! Get the others!”

“Huh?” she turned around. “Soler..? What’s going-”

“It’s Neo Metal Sonic!” Soler took off into the night’s cool glow...\

Solar Vengeance

Commission for Solerwolf21

By: Cutegirlmayra

Soler ran without looking back, his jaw set as he aligned his path towards a cascade of varying explosions blasting in large or small repetitions. Soler was skillful, used to the battlefield by now, and dodged hurtling land masses, uprooted and burning trees, even narrowly ducking his head back to have his nose almost skim the edges of a large flaming blast directed at him.

He finally made his way down the now burning valley into the thick black smoke, coughing into his gloves. There was no question of his life, nor of the effects of the oxygen burning up around him that could push soot into his lungs. He was there for one purpose and one alone. Hopping from small pebbles that crumbled under his feet to larger stepping stones, Soler finally found a pocket in the valley that had already risen the black smoke above it, leaving some breathing room for the suffering life below. The smoke was being blocked from truly escaping from the mountain passes, but rushing water caught the airborne soot from the air and dragged it down, polluting its waters as it raced down the mountain side.

Soler looked at the spiraling death cloud, clenching his fist with further anger, trying to limit his breaths. ‘This is what happens when evil men don’t get what they deserve!’ he thought these words like a curse, but they propelled him on, searching for more explosions and echoing sounds that could lead him to Neo Metal Sonic.

He coughed in his hand again, spitting on the ground as he could taste the burnt atmosphere and noticed what was being attacked.

He held a hand to a leaning tree, covering his mouth as his eyes widened from the image before him. It was the rebellion, the freedom fighters, everyone was down…

In horror, he rushed below, “No!” he cried out, rushing over to a few of them and checking to make sure they were alive.

With his memory triggered, he held his head. Tears threatened his eyes as they grew glossy, but everyone was still alive…

For now.

“I’ll get you all out of here. Amy’s getting backup.” He tried to speak comforting words, but something hung in his throat, breaking his voice to where it barely held a soothing tone within it. Instead, his anger and sorrow cooled and warmed him, like a cyclone of currents that blended into one. He tried to move a man up to see if he was conscious… and that’s when…

Clanking of metal footsteps caught his attention.

His ears flicked at the sound, directly behind him… He glared around his shoulder, a slow movement, calculating every move and instinct that would follow from here on out.

“...Blinded by your hate?” The dark and metallic voice rung out, shaking the very confines of his memory. It had been years since he had last seen that shimmering coat of metallic blue, the steel blades on the ends of his hands that he dared call fingers, and the connecting silhouette that had once made him believe that Shadow was a murderer.

“Blinded?” His core rocked with the will to fight, to bring swift justice to a people now scattered in faded images… and yet… so real, they could still be dwelling—alive—inside him.

He rose to his feet, chaos power surging within him as he hung his fists out to the sides. “You don’t know the meaning of the word Blind!” He felt all his training suddenly fly out of him like a ghost, the good man in him fleeing to escape the swirling madness of revenge in his heart. That clear and kind demeanour he once held… that gentle soul trying to find his accepted place in the world, the fun and cheerfully content friend his companions lovingly knew and regarded as their comrade… all seemed to dissipate the second Neo Metal Sonic’s red eyes locked with his own lush green glare. Blinded… blinded by hate.

“Bound to blindness… you can neither see the end from the beginning.” Neo Metal Sonic rang out a coarse and deafening denial. It was though he knew. He knew that Soler’s body had gone back to that moment, that catastrophic event that changed the course of his life. He rose a clawed hand, elegantly showing off his form now that he didn’t have to hide it from him any longer. “What I offer your power is more than you can possibly wield…” he crushed his hand into a tight and sharp fist. “In a world full of hope… one must snuff out the light. Just like your precious—organic muse. Only… she couldn’t release the light from within you… no… she couldn’t summon what I wanted. A pointless sacrifice. A death that you made vain. Even I couldn’t have calculated how poorly that performance would fail. All because it couldn’t wrack you to your very soul… Could have saved her? If you unleashed the sleeping power that I so desperately desired from you? No... She was the lesser light… Especially compared to what I’ll do this time…” Neo Metal Sonic began to arch his walk as it took everything within Soler to not launch himself out at him. ‘Lesser light!? Blinded?! What was he going on about!?’ he continued to store up and build power, still unaware of Neo Metal Sonic baiting him. He almost reached the point of Chaos Break but not quite entering into that state just yet… he was waiting…

Something inside him burned like the forest around him, but he couldn’t strike quite yet. He wanted to wait for the ideal moment… when Neo Metal Sonic wouldn’t be able to dodge or read what he was planning…

An opening...

Neo Metal Sonic’s eyes scanned as he rounded him and spoke, keeping a distance, but noticing the concentrated Chaos Energy piling up in him. “You’ve managed to unlock your ability? Perhaps that pawn did do its duty then.” He stopped himself, “To the supreme overlord of this land,... that pathetic organism’s life actually proved of some use after all. In what little it accomplished, at least it has motivated some fulfilling change in you.” He spread his arms out, “Show me,... Wielder of Chaos—No! Host to my soon-to-be new power of channeled, raw chaos…” he lifted one of his hands up, a red heat steaming from his claws. “It’s time… I shall break the chaos from your body… I shall rip it out of you! And then harness it to finally defeat Sonic! And all his worthless, squirming friends! They shall cling to the very essence of life and hope as I shred it from existence!” He blasted a powerful wind from spinning his hand and body quickly in a whirling twist for a moment, causing his cape to flare back behind him and the black smoke to spin away as some of the night finally revealed itself in the tainted sky.

The moon… directly above Neo Metal Sonic, hung itself right where he spun the cloud away, like an all-seeing eye…

“Engage me!”

“With pleasure!!!”

Soler leaped forward, a fierce entanglement of heated metal against sheer, raw chaos forming around Soler’s hands and rising up his arms. The two fought ceaselessly, a close hand-to-hand combat as they spiraled around each other, looking for an opening… ‘Grr..! It’s taking too long!’ Soler remembered Shadow mentioning to be aware of his surroundings. Soler perceived quickly that his battle with Neo Metal Sonic could hurt the downed soldiers around him.

‘Alright… I need to bring Neo Metal Sonic away from them. So that he can fight just me!’ He put his hands together, “Chaos Canon!” blasting up and out of the smoke, he felt he could have some cover while leading Neo Metal Sonic up near the Mountain pass. Forgetting for a moment that Neo Metal Sonic could use heat-sensing, he saw a rapidly moving line of red darting to his position.

“Shoot!” he was now stuck in the air! Thinking fast, he swiped his hand, about to summon Chaos Hailstorm before realizing he could hit someone down below on accident. “Urk..!” he flinched, his eyes wavering in their conviction as he realized there were too many injured for a fair fight. ‘Alright, then. I’ll take this to-!” but before he could make a counter-move, Neo Metal Sonic spun a swift kick into his stomach, shifting him through the air and slamming him into the mountain’s rugged cliffs.

“Ugh… uhh…” Moving himself out of the cliff side, he looked up to see Neo Metal Sonic propel a fist into his face, shoving him further into the mountain as pieces of rock blasted out from the impact.

As the dust cleared, Soler’s face was smashed against its side, but he was fighting for control over the battle again. Neo Metal Sonic was ruthless… he had forgotten how strong he was, how seemingly invincible this robot could appear…

“You are not worthy to hold such power…” Neo Metal Sonic began, moving his heated hand towards him. “Allow me to rectify this conundrum…” as the heated hand flared a red glowing power, Soler turned his chin away and felt sweat trinkle down the side of his face.

‘No… He’s trying to get me to unleash my power… if I do, from this close of a range… He’ll absorb it and become even more powerful..!’ he strained against the hand that was keeping him in place. ‘I can’t give up… Luna..!’ he squinted his eyes, mentally crying out her name for strength.

That’s when he knew.

“You could never wield my power!”

He cried out loud.

“Because I am that power!!!”

“What!?”

“Chhhhaaaoooossss-”

Powering up the last of his pent-up rage, he let loose a new form. Straining against the life-sucking influence of the Chaos factor that converted his very being into power, he shifted fully into his ultimate form. “BREAK!” he blasted an amazed Neo Metal Sonic back, getting him successfully off of him as he homing-attacked through the air, pushing off the mountain side and causing it concave inwards on itself from the magnitude of his pressured ‘push’.

Ramming his spiky chaos ball into Neo Metal Sonic’s discombobulated body, it was clear to tell Neo Metal Sonic was having a hard time getting a reading on him.

“NOOO!!!” He cried out, seeing he was being swarmed with opposition that was too much for his systems to calculate. He ended up shutting off the programmed aid and went straight to blocking, but Soler uncurled from his ball and blasted him down towards the ground, pummeling him further.

“This is for LUNA!” he sent a powerful beam of Chaos through Metal Sonic’s left shoulder, the two falling at alarming rates towards the far front of the forest, away from the struggling freedom fighters. “This is for VILLAGERS YOU MASSACRED!” he launched his fists down to have Chaos power shoot out and knock him with each hit farther and farther out of the sky, further and further away from… “And this… this is for MY FRIEEEENDDDDSSS!!!” One last form… one last moment to end all the suffering and pain Neo Metal Sonic ever manufactured in the world.

“CHAOS SYNERGY!!!” Soler’s leaned forward…. He blasted away the limits of his body and life force, his very soul blazed around him in a shining white of raw energy.

“No… you fool!” Neo Metal Sonic was waiting for this, but it wasn’t what he was expecting at all. “You’ll only end your life and the power will be lost forever!” he activated a reflective surface that opened from the engine in his chest like a jacket, trying to absorb the chaos power from him. Soler breathed heavily, seeing Neo Metal Sonic regain his flight abilities and start channeling his own power from him. “No… I won’t let you get away with this!” Soler blasted out another powerful explosion from his body, pushing Neo Metal Sonic back.

“Un… Unperceivable.” Neo Metal Sonic’s eyes shook as he skidded to a landing on the ground, looking up as his systems began to spark around him. “His berserk form should allow me to absorb all the necessary chaos energy from his body… how… why isn’t it working?!”

There was a moment of peace about Soler… as he began to float in the air… the once cool air now heated by the flames around him. He could feel the world suffering… and when he closed his eyes… he placed his hand to his heart… feeling the same way he did back when Luna’s village was crying out in terror.

‘This power… It doesn’t matter if I die now.’ He felt some form of weight lift off his shoulders, and looked back to Neo Metal Sonic… it was almost amusing to see his bewilderment at having miscalculated his true potential, but that didn’t matter right now.

He could literally see the essence of his life blazing around him, and knew that it wouldn’t be long now… till it was all out and done.

‘But before that time… I’ll make sure Neo Metal Sonic never hurts another living thing again.’ he looked down, like a blazing angel of the night towards Neo Metal Sonic. Even the glow of the flames couldn’t stand against the holy light of his personage.

“I… am Soler The Hedgehog.”

He declared, his eyes glaring like thin slits against the dark of the night.

“You’ve committed a crime against all life upon this world… and I…”

He took one final glance at the moon, then held the necklace tightly in his hand.

It was a solemn, unspoken, and final goodbye.

“Will take you from this world.”

In horror unimaginable, Neo Metal Sonic stepped back. His fear wasn’t of death, but of what power he would enact those words by.

Soler drifted to the ground, and held out his hand. “This is your undoing… Metallic Blue Boy.” he smirked at his inside-joke with Sonic, and prepared a powerful beam. “Solar…” it began to form a tight ball that sounded as though the rays of the sun were building at the palm of his hand. “Chaos…” it grew bigger, beams of light breaking from it’s core.

...He closed his eyes…

‘I hope this is enough to make up for my existence… Luna. I hope this settles my debt… and pays back all the lives that have suffered because of me… because of him.’

His eyes shot open as he pulled his hand back, readying his final attack that would most likely end his life.

Neo Metal Sonic braced himself, opening his body even wider as he transformed himself into a giant absorbing field of mirrored steel that was meant to take in whatever power Soler had within him.

‘Heh...cute.’ Soler thought, smiling and knowing that Neo Metal Sonic couldn’t fathom the terrors of death… but at least this would come close to it.

“FLAREEEEE!!!”

A long, dragon like whip of power twisted itself in the air and flew directly to Neo Metal Sonic.

The power was stilled in his metallic frame, and Neo Metal Sonic began a slow laugh...

Before seeming to robotically choke as his voice blitzed out and his head twitched.

“Heh…” Soler powered down, hunching over in his exhaustion. “Boom.”

BOOOOOOOAWWWWWWWWWMMMMMM!!!!!

Neo Metal Sonic’s pieces flew there… and over there… and some clanked against the rock and tumbled away some place else.

Then Soler collapsed to the ground.

“Was this… enough… L-Luna?”

Then something unexpected happened.

A figure rose from the blackened corpse of Neo Metal Sonic, his literal frame-ware of his body without its Sonic-like metal coating. A literal skeleton… creeping its way towards Soler.

His eyes shook, “N-no…!” he couldn’t believe it. “He survived!?”

He pushed his body past its limit once more, rising from the ground to his knees and powering up what little life he had left. Closing one eye, he raised his hand back up, keeping it up with his other as its support. “I guess there really is no living through it… I’ve gotta use it all.”

As the skeleton reached out, walking like a zombie with sparks everywhere, a purely naked figure of its robotic plating, a hammer suddenly flew out of nowhere and knocked it into a burning bush.

“Soler! Don’t-!” Amy rushed out to his side, dropping to him as he stared amazed.

“A...Amy?”

“That last blast almost wiped out our rescue party!” she explained, hugging him close as his eyes remained in shock.

His head just naturally fell to her shoulder, his hand not going down. “I… I have to destroy him… I can’t let him live.”

The steel skeleton rose out of the bush, oil leaking around it to blast explosions from itself. It looked truly sickening, but Amy continued.

“But that form… I heard you shout it out. That was Chaos Synergy.” she looked to see the white forming from his feet up his knees… he was retaking the form.

She pulled back, shaking his shoulders, “Soler, stop! Please! That forms kills you right? It drains you..? Soler, listen to me! Soler!!!”

Blinded still by his anger and hate, his hand slowly began to power up another blast. Now his vision was blurry, his mindset on destruction…

“Move… Pink.” he stated beneath his breath. “Move…”

“NO!” she shook her head, spreading her arms out wide, “Soler, listen to me! This isn’t what Luna wanted! She would have wanted you to live happily! If you do this… you’ll destroy the valley! You’ll destroy the very lives you’ve worked so hard to fight for! You trained so hard… so diligently… in hopes of protecting people… is this the future you want to make for yourself?! Scattered in more merciless killing!?”

Soler’s eyes twitched, his old self returning to him…

The hunger of seeing Neo Metal Sonic suffer greater than his own pain suddenly weighed back down on him. “But… he deserves this… he deserves to die.”

“He’s a robot, Soler! Eggman will just make another one!” Amy grabbed his head, hoping to focus the last of his fading vision onto her.

“Please… think of the real people around you… think of the hero you want to be… the one Luna saw in you… that day you saved her life.”

His eyes flexed and his pupils dilated. He recounted taking that bullet for her.

His hand twitched, the light in it slowly fading away…

“Life is worth saving, Soler… Don’t throw your life away for one victory… that needlessly leads to further suffering and pain. We’d all miss you, Soler… we all love and need you so much…” she lowered her head, crying into his chest as the warm tears cooled his boiling rage…

He finally… slowly… let the hand slip and his arm fall back down to his side.

Neo Metal Sonic’s skeleton continued to work through the bushes and explosion with a limped leg, before falling to the flames eating at its faked life and consuming what little energy he held left.

Then… Soler passed out in Amy’s arms, hearing her scream his name.

Neo Metal Sonic had tried to steal his powers… but what he did steal… was his clear conscience. However, with the last of the fight, Amy returned his sanity back, and Neo Metal Sonic couldn’t take his pure heart from him, the innocent intent of saving all that were within Soler’s reach.

It wouldn’t have been a good way to die, anyway. At least, that’s what Soler kept telling himself. As he dreamed, he saw Luna standing on the moon, looking away from him before turning with her long hair whisping around her.

She was crying… but smiling.

A Chaos Emerald was used to revive what little life was left in Soler, and he woke up in a hospital bunker, looking around as the Freedom Fighters cheered around at their friends all waking up from the horrible ordeal.

Shadow pulled back the Chaos Emerald, glaring to him as though not wanting to scold him in front of everyone. However, Soler got the message, bending his ears back and looking sheepishly guilty, trying to smile apologetically back. Shadow and even Blue Boy had constantly warned him about his synergy spikes… still, it was nice to see he cared.

Sonic walked by, trying to be casual about it, but whacked Soler upside the head while Sally gave a speech. He rubbed his head and kept quiet, knowing the two didn’t want to cause a scene but also seeing Sonic look back over his shoulder, giving him a wink. So, at least Sonic was glad he made the right choice in the end, but Shadow folded his arms. He clearly wasn’t having it. Soler was going to have to sit through Shadow’s wrath for a bit… but he would take it knowing it came from a good place. Tails began after Sally, stating they had put out the fires around the surrounding area. A medal was given to some, but then Sally personally came over to Soler, without the prying eyes of the crowd. A silent exchange was given from the medal to Sonic and Shadow, but they both just looked like polar opposites. Sonic nodded, as though to silently say ‘Keep your chin up, buddy!’ to be more encouraging, since he rarely dwelt in the past. Shadow, on the other hand, wouldn’t be satisfied until Soler was worthy of the medal.

The medal she handed him was made of white material he couldn’t perfectly identify, and winked to him as she rested her hand on his shoulder, “Amy told us.” she whispered, “We were able to treat your injuries, but Shadow used the Chaos Emerald to treat what he called ‘your soul’. I hope you’re alright, Soler. I’m glad to still have you with us.” she moved on, but there was a genuine look of gratitude in her eyes.

The medal came with a note, thanking Soler for his bravery in diverting Neo Metal Sonic’s attacks away from the injured, but Soler knew what it was really saying…

Throughout the course of the day, many fighters came over and checked on him, it overwhelmed it. It was all too much. He realized that only the main gang had known what sacrifice he was willing to do, but the others just thanked him for his support. They worried about him… they really cared about him… Those he had saved thanked him. He didn’t feel very worthy of it. Yes, he had thought of them, but he almost endangered them by his furious outbursts as well…

He took a deep breath, ‘No matter what, I was meant to learn the things I did in my life.” he knew Amy was right and clutched his slightly singed necklace tighter to his heart, leaning back in his recovery bed and being careful not to disturb the bandages wrapped all over him in different sections of his body. “I was meant to have loved Luna, as she was meant to love me. I understand my feelings more,... and even though the past still haunts me, I was able to look forward with hope for a better future… one where I’ll live for those who can’t survive without someone else watching their back. I’ll be the power they never had.’ he lulled himself to sleep with this promise on his mind, closing his eyes… ‘I’ll be a true hero… so no one has to suffer what I’ve suffered… yeah, I think that’ll do. I think that’ll be… my repentance…’

He began to fall asleep…

‘My redemption.’

 Lunar Ellipse

Commission of 60-70 pages for the amazing Solerwolf21

By: Cutegirlmayra

It’s been a long time since the Metal Sonic incident…

I’ve been carrying the weight of that day for a while now… I know it’s no good, so I’m trying to get my mind off of things and start something new.

At least, something new to think about…

That’s when I thought about Sally.

Soler held his medal close to himself, looking down forlorned as he continued his afternoon walk. It was getting late, as it usually does, but he missed his morning sulk so this was his best effort to stay on schedule.

“Heh,” He lightly laughed out loud at the thought. ‘Morning Sulk’ was a good name for it, but he liked the fresh air too. It was nice to get away from everyone’s busy work and all the fighting.

Time and time again… one fight after the other. But it was exhausting, you know? Then Eggman suddenly blipped off the radar. Everyone got anxious and confused, scared even. I went out on my own to do some recon and came back with to a nasty surprise. Apparently, I didn’t ask permission to go off on recon and the whole of the Freedom Fighters was about to send out a search party with Sally at the command.

After that, Sonic had told me to take it easy… but what does that mean?

Did everyone just suppose I was unstable? Maybe I wasn’t… maybe I really was.

I’ve thought a lot of things lately…

He stared at the ground as his shoes kicked the dirt off the path as he continued. The scent of pinewood and the weeds scrapping against his feet created a pleasant scenery. Not too many flowers, but just enough to catch the eye.

Mostly, I’ve thought a lot about Sally. But then…

He sighed, looking up as he let go of the medal and clasped the necklace instead.

“Luna… The moon’s about to come out soon.” He stopped a moment as he tried to remember which moon this would be.

When he realized he didn’t know, a sudden harsh sadness came on him. “Did I forget?” He seemed almost spooked. Feeling guilty, he quickly ran to try and see the moon over the hill he usually star-gazed on. He climbed a moment on all floors to regain some balance at his new quickened pace. It was a tad slippery from some rainfall, but Soler didn’t mind it. He was used to laying on this hill as fresh dew scattered across it. It was refreshing after the walk, and the sun warmed him while the earth cooled his sweaty back.

Things weren’t necessarily quiet back at camp… the Freedom Fighters had their fair share of Eggman busting to do. After he went dark, they were on high alert, finding rogue robots from his army and taking those down one by one. Sonic and Shadow both agreed I needed space and time to think, but qgain, what exactly does that mean? Were they really not gonna let me help? Just because of the Neo Metal Sonic incident… or because I went off on my own without telling anyone? It was confusing, to say the least… I felt bad about it, but I also hoped everyone had already put it passed them.

I guess I did give everyone quite a scare…

After racing to the top of the hill, he paused to look up, breathing hard in his worry. His emerald green eyes scanned the falling horizon, “… It’s not up yet.” He looked behind him and suddenly clutched his fists. “Dang it. I really can’t let go!” he slammed it into the hillside’s top, a full-blown swing as he slightly jumped and let it collide with the earth, bending and landing on his knees to reach the mark. This caused a small pound but none of his chaos energy was put into it, so his hand just hurt a little from the harsh hit.

“Huh?” He once again wondered what was going on. “My… my abilities?” he tried to see if he could do a Chaos Spear.

As practiced a thousand, no—millions of times with Shadow, he released a perfect set of spears that flew with a whistle out into the air and pierced sharply into the ground upon descending in an arrow’s arch. After a moment, they disappeared in a swiped flash and were no more.

“Phew… Why am I so paranoid?” he gripped his wrist, just massaging it a bit and wondering why he didn’t feel himself today.

Recently… I’ve been thinking too much.

He sat down, plopping on the tippy top of the hill as though not caring if he hurt himself in the process. Staring up, he vaguely saw the sun finally setting and dipping away.

It was his favorite thing. Waiting for the moon to come up. The Moonset, as he called it. However, he couldn’t bring himself to view the moon today, though he willed himself too. A pain slowly sank from his chest down into his heart and stomach. His mind raced again from the longings of his heart… his words following, unable to contain what lie inside his every thought.

“Luna…” He looked down at the necklace, waiting to see what the moon would be like today. “Luna… if I decided to love someone else… would you always know I still loved you?”

There was an unshakable silence.

---

“Soler! You’re falling behind!” The voice was so real, so tangible. It was soft and high, like a cloud against the moon. It was shrouded in utter fascination and mystery to Soler, so hard to describe, but so easily to recognize and pull again to mind.

“Ha…Ha… I’m trying, alright!?” Counter wise, his voice was husky from all the running, heavy breaths interrupted any sweet, playfulness it usually carried.

“Well, try harder!” she urged.

“You’re just as pushy as your dad!” He raised his head up, trying to keep up the pace.

“Haha! I take that as a compliment!” It was a typical day with the beautiful chief’s daughter, nothing in the world could ruin this memory for him.

Luna raced up the track that headed back to her village, looking behind her constantly to wave and encourage Soler on. “Come on! If you make it, I might just give you a hero’s kiss~” she taunted, winking and blowing him a tease.

Soler’s head shot up, “Huh?” It hadn’t been long since they confessed the buddings of romance to each other, but the thought of a kiss still brought a faint blush to his cheeks.

“What? Was that not motivation enough? Hehe!” she laughed as she bolted forward again.

How mischievous… But I don’t dislike that about her. In fact, it’s kinda fun and refreshing to see her tease me like this.

He smiled, his breathing seeming to find a rhythm in their jog now. She was quite a ways ahead, but he didn’t mind giving her the head start. He loved running. It was something he always did when exploring new places.

But… today was meant to be the day he was going to tell her he wanted to head out again. His nomadic ways hadn’t stopped so suddenly. It was a habit to find new places and people to serve, it was just his nature to acquaint himself with anyone who needed his help.

He wanted to leave for a while, but also wanted to promise her he’d come back and live there with her… he was still so young, they both were.

His eyes arched as he thought about it…

If I kiss her… will that make me change my mind?

He shook his head.

I’ll just let her win. Besides, she usually does, anyway.

“Slowpoke!”

“That does it.” He narrowed his eyes, smiling. “Here I come!” he had stored his energy long enough He burst forward with a high-speed velocity, but nothing compared to the rumored Fastest Thing Alive. His lungs pumped air in and out like a steam-train without any breaks, his legs like well-oiled wheels being pushed by a long gear to never quit or strain under the pressure. He felt an open smile as he breathed through his mouth and was charging up to the side of her at a rapid pace.

His heart had a goal in mind, but his mind didn’t have the heart to disappoint her.

He began to catch up swiftly, causing her to stop laughing and gasp in fright. Immediately, she began to run with all her effort—for real this time. Though, her curiosity and fright at his sudden bolt made her keep looking over her shoulder, slowing her speed down every time she looked back to see him continually picking up speed.

“Eeee..!” her mouth stretched far back, clearly nervous about the rewards at stake…

“Heh.” Here’s for trying to tempt me! He slid up next to her and grabbed her hand, “Need a boost?”

“Ah!” she blushed, while he looped her hand under his arm and passed the village gates—side by side.

Serves her right for upping the ante.

It was terribly romantic, too. A duo tie. However, if Soler knew anything about Luna, she would downplay his charms and pretend like she wasn’t smitten at all by it.

“Y-you’re pretty fast.” She didn’t move away from him as he slowed down to a stop, looking down at her ducking face.

He could still see the pink all over her muzzle though, so it was enough to make him smile.

There was heat on his cheeks too, but the fresh air and smell of food being cooked in the village cooled and stilled him off. He would probably eat something light with her to make up for all the lost energy.

He decided not to ask about the ‘reward’ but instead, poke at her nose. “I know you’re pretty fast yourself. Almost lost there if I didn’t think fast too.”

She giggled at his touched and looked up at him, shyly trying to disguise her fondness for him. That smile though… couldn’t even hide a secret…

“Did you have fun?” He found himself saying, finding his breathing had returned to a normal rhythm again. He was glad she didn’t pull away, it reassured him that this tie was a grand idea in the end. At least, she always seemed to enjoy his company, and this wasn’t exactly the first time he was trying to win her affections through a clever tactic. He was used to be bolder with her now, since they confessed. But it did leave him wondering if he should really leave or not…

“Y-yes.” She put her other hand to her chest and tried to still her racing heart again. “But I think my heart still thinks we’re in the race.”

“Well… who said we’re not?”

“H-huh?”

He leaned down and lightly pecked the side of her cheek, making sure to pull her lightly over to him with his arm that still held her hand in place.

“Ah! Stop it! Not in public!” she cutely moved away and shoved him off, causing him to wobble a bit before grinning happily and stepping away from her.

“Whatever you say, Luna.”

She covered her face, but then opened her hands enough to stick her tongue out at him.

“You offered first…” he mumbled as he folded his arms and looked away. He decided not to push it anymore, concluding that she probably was still a bit hesitant about it all.

“Actually,… Luna… I meant to ask you something.”

Luna stiffened a bit.

“I… I think I’d like to-“ He was about to address the subject when a familiar voice, like brass toned to a mature ring, echoed towards the two abruptly.

“Luna! Darling!” Suddenly, out of the blue, her father stepped in and worriedly embraced his daughter. “What have I told you about wandering too far from the village?! Ah, Soler!” he saw Soler and outstretched his palm to him. “Now I see! You were being protected! I’m glad then. But still, dear girl, don’t go running off like that!”

“But dad, I’m-“

“A big girl who still asks me to cook breakfast for her?” He raised a comical eyebrow as Soler covered his mouth to chuckle.

She blushed and looked to Soler, then her father. “Dad!”

At this point, Luna’s father had completely taken Soler in. It didn’t change the fact that he didn’t exactly know Soler and Luna’s relationship, but at the same time, Soler felt he wouldn’t mind much either.

But they were still… so young.

He looked back out of the gates of the village, feeling some left over thrill at running out and exploring what else could be out there again.

His powers…

He looked down at his hands with striped ‘X’s over his gloves. I also want to go somewhere safe to train… My combat skills are better than ever, so far. And I’m sure there are other villages out there that could use my help too.

He turned back to watch the antics of father and daughter play out a familiar scene. The Chief was a bit protective over her, but it made sense since she was slightly childish at times. Seeing Luna scold her father while he kept lovingly reminding her of her youth made Soler wish once again to have known more about where he came from, what family dynamics he might have had. It was too much of a blurry memory, hazy from years of being unable to recall it. Still… he considered this village a type of family, and wondered what they’d think of him taking off for a while…

“-And that one time you asked me to buy you that adorable hedgehog doll made out of hay. You painted it white, you know.”

“DAD, SERIOUSLY, STOP!” she kept jumping up to try and reach his mouth, hoping to slam a hand over it and shut him up. However, The Chief kept raising his head to avoid her, laughing at her attempts to reach his rather large height.

“Hahah! Even put cute, little pink blush-dots on the cheeks.”

“I’m so embarrassed!” Luna finally gave up and covered her face again, ducking as she raced off deeper into the village. “You’re the worst, Dad!”

“Haha. About time she gave up.” As though planning this, The Chief turned to Soler. Soler realized then that he was trying to embarrass her and have her run off. Soler gulped, wondering what The Chief was up too… “Now then, why don’t you and I have a talk, young man.”

Soler suddenly felt a whole planet had been dropped on him. A… A talk? Did he know!?

“Y-…Yes, sir.” He didn’t know why he was so nervous all of a sudden. He deeply respected The Chief, he was a good man, but the way he said that…

The two walked around the village, full of young and old life doing chores like hanging clothes out on lines or cooking for the village feast. They didn’t usually eat in families on weekends but had big parties to celebrate their happy village community.

Soler loved it here, but the atmosphere was something he wasn’t accustomed too. They had welcomed him with open arms, a little hesitant about his presence at first before saving them from a wild creature of sorts. Soler was sure it was something dark and possibly enraged by battling one of Eggman’s robots, evident by oil all over its hide. But whatever it was, it wasn’t natural. Soler had gotten injured and some of that darkness infected his injury, but Luna tended to him and his strange power had taken care of the rest. He was a bit uncomfortable with how sincerely grateful they were to him, always making him special in any social gathering, but he took it with a polite smile and awkward head nod.

Today, it seemed The Chief wanted to talk about manhood. He began to recite something that sounded recited, if that makes any sense. So although Soler listened intently to the chief’s speech on what a true, righteous man is… he was instantly bored of the topic and observing the life of the bustling village about him. He was constantly in awe at it, watching the children play outside their little straw houses or huts. So modest an abode, but then again, no one seemed to notice wealth or poverty. It was like they all shared and communicated freely, nothing was bought or sold, but exchanged and handed out without contracts or agreements. Just… in the spirit of being friendly and neighborly.

He knew it was very different from the outside world though, but when The Chief began to change his tone, Soler immediately started to pay more attention to his long monologue.

“Now, a lot of people ask what a young man like you would want to be when he grows up. A warrior? Simple farmer? But any of man can be a truly good, exemplary, benevolent man regardless of upbringing or birth.”

The entire time, Soler felt uneasy. He wasn’t much into justice or goodness. He just did what he felt was for the benefit of other’s safety. A man has his own soul to look after, but that doesn’t mean he can’t risk it save another’s. He wanted to ignore again and scan the silkworks for a sign of Luna, maybe find her gathering hay in a field and carrying it to the storehouse. Either way, anything would be better than being stuck with a rambling old man about traditional man values…

Why can’t I just be my own kind of man?

“-And so a true man has a heart that will never yield to injustice, but always fight for what is right. Regardless of this, he also obeys the laws the citizens have placed by their own will and hearts. So, what I’m saying is, the fifth quality of a true, righteous man is to respect the hearts of others, as well as the laws they give to govern themselves- ah… Soler?” The chief hit his staff a few times to the ground, causing Soler to snap out of his walking-sleep and shake his head a second.

He immediately realized he had been caught daydreaming, and apologetically scratched the back of his head.

“E…heh.” Opps.

“…Ehem.” The Chief cleared his throat, showing he was aware that Soler was dozing off while walking with him. Which… his eyes were wondering a lot, and after a moment,… maybe he did rest them without realizing noticing he was dozing off…

The Chief sighed, “One day, you will become a man. What, prey tell, kind of man do you want to be?”

Without hesitation, Soler opened his mouth-

And yawned.

“You aren’t very keen on thinking of the future, are you, boy?” The chief relaxed his tensed-up shoulders a moment, showing his caring eyes again that told Soler he was off the hook.

At least, for now.

“Honestly, Chief… I wanted to tell you and Luna what I’ve been thinking and feeling lately.”

“Oh?” The chief seemed interested, switching his staff to the other hand and waiting patiently for Soler to continue. “Go on.”

“I… There’s just a… big, whole world out there!” Soler spread his arms out. “I mean… don’t get me wrong, you must know how I feel about your village, but…”

“Emhmm…” the chief smiled, leaning down and giving Soler a look like he knew how he felt about a certain daughter of his too…

But Soler shook off the feeling and smiled sheepishly, continuing with his original thought. “B-but I can’t help and feel like I want to go out there and see what other things I can learn and do. I want to come back! Honest! I just…” he felt his animated arms suddenly slow and drop to his sides. “…I’m sorry. I have to see who else I can help. If I even have control enough to help them.” He felt his uncertainty bite down on his words, but he felt he could tell The Chief anything. Even his own heart…

“There, there, boy. You are a typical young man.” The Chief put his arm around Soler’s shoulders, since he was quite a large man. But clearly, The Chief was beyond his own youthful years now and couldn’t really defend the village himself. Hearing Solar speak these things… Soler wondered if he’d really be okay with his words. “You don’t want to be stuck in a fishbowl, spinning in circles inside the plot of space allotted to you. And although I wish I could just say, ‘off you go!’ I’m afraid my fear for my village is a little more prominent on this matter than I hoped.”… or not.

He gave a fatherly shake on Soler’s shoulders before letting go and walking on, shaking his head. “What will we do without you, Soler? Is your mind made up or are you still willing to consider staying here?” it was a kind plea, one that made it hard to respond too.

Soler felt his heart ache a moment. “You’re a good leader, Chief. Honest, you are! I just… I have to go.” Soler admitted, though it pained him to see the Chief look so downhearted.

The Chief took a moment, not speaking as he clearly was sad to hear this.

But after a moment, he nodded and sighed, walking off. “I have no say in your life, Soler… I just wish I could convince you somehow.”

Soler bowed in respect, “Thank you… Chief.” He stopped to show he wasn’t going to follow and speak with The Chief further. The Chief looked sorrowfully over his shoulder to Soler, his eyebrows showing the concern for not only Soler’s life, but the safety of his village. He was a good man, though. He was going to let Soler do as he wished.

Now all Soler had to do… was break the news to Luna.

He looked behind him, wondering how on earth he was going to tell her.

…Easier said than done…

---

The moon was high now, the stars not out yet, but the owls cooed on their sideline choirs. Soler opened his eyes, relaxing and having dozed off in a dream of his past for a moment.

He rubbed his eyes, placing his hands on his stomach. He yawned and pulled out the necklace.

“Hmm. So that’s the phase today.” He concluded, and let his head fall back to the soft grace he was resting on before.

He had matured so much since then… But his yawn still matched that boy from the dream… his past self. He had no idea what was in store to come.

Soler lowered his eyes,… remembering the horrors that would then ensnare Soler’s every step forward. The pity and the pain, the sorrow and the savagery.

“…Luna.” He began. He found that something new had slipped into the crevices of his broken heart.

“I want to ask Sally if she’d like to go on a walk with me.”

It wasn’t what he usually said to the moon, but it was just what popped out. He had conversations like this, out loud with the moon as the only witness, holding Luna’s necklace by his heart. The moon never responded, and neither did Luna.

But there was no silence this time. Crickets hopped with their strings creaking out into the night. The owls’ choir was still in full rehearsal for the dead of night, and the moon stayed motionless to observe the orchestra in the dark.

“Would you… feel betrayed if I did?” he felt the cold nip at his nose, causing him to shiver slightly. “You’re my long-lasting love, Luna… I appreciate you more than anything else in the world. You did so much for me… Will you let me get close to someone else? Move on? I’m just…” he turned on his side, “I’m just lonely again… feeling like I’m wanting a fishbowl… but denying it again and again.”

There was a swift wind that ruffled his quills on his back.

“Brr…” he felt the chill and got up, rubbing his arms and blowing some hot air into his hands. “It’s gonna be winter soon… I can’t come see the moon all the time like this. This isn’t a goodbye or anything… it’s kinda like…” he looked back up at the moon, shining as there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to dull its glow. “Permission.”

---

A pot crashed to the floor as the other girls in the storage room all stopped their cluttering chores and watched as Soler backed away from Luna.

She quickly turned around with glossy eyes, “Leaving..? Why? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing’s wrong!” Soler shook his hands out, and then looked around at the people around him.

Shoot. She should have come with me to our tree… but she just had to decide that she’d finally listen to her father for once and not leave the village!

Luna opened her mouth to say something but stopped as she closed it tight.

She forced her eyes not to blink, and quickly grabbed Soler’s arm, dragging him out of the room so no one could see the very real threat of tears coming to her eyes. One blink, and she would be a mess in front of those who looked up to her family for guidance and leadership.

Soler felt bad about whispering the news into her ear, but she refused to come with him, what else could he have done?

They hiked in silence as Soler tried to explain himself but Luna shushed him every chance he got a word out.

Finally, they were at their tree, where he originally asked her to go. “Luna, say something!” He begged when she let him go and spun around.

“Soler… I don’t want you to go.” She admitted, her voice shaking a moment in her emotions.

“I know… I know that, okay?” He gently approached her, placing his hands on her arms. “Don’t cry, Luna… I’ll come back! I promise! I’ll bring you lots of things too. You’ll see, it’ll be like I never left.”

“…You don’t have to go, do you?” she looked up, and it broke his heart to see her so upset.

“…No.” he whispered, letting the word slip out of his mouth. “I want to go, though.”

“But why?” She moved away a second, “Am I not good enough?” she then raced back into his arms, hugging him tightly. “I thought you were going to protect this village!”

“I-…” he was losing it.

Why should I go?

He looked away.

Any guy would want to stay. Luna was amazing. Her father adored him. The village was just giddy to accept him into their family… so why?

He remembered.

“Luna, I have a power that is extremely dangerous, hidden inside of me.” He took her hands in his own, holding them together. “I do care about you, a whole awful lot, but…” he turned his head away from her, thinking carefully on his next words. “I also want to make sure that when I come back, I’m strong enough to protect more than just your village.” His eyes bore a witness of his love for her, but he worried she couldn’t understand. He had turned back to her, but she was still emotionally distraught, letting tears fall more willingly now that it was just the two of them.

That was Luna for you, always dropping her front for Soler. She only cared that he loved her, and the rest was meaningless.

But she clearly feared his words, and didn’t seem to understand why he was doing this.

Luna sniffed, looking at his nose and lightly moving her hand to drift a finger onto it, letting it slide down and reach his muzzle before continuing the stroke down to his mouth. “Just… stop talking, okay?”

He felt something flare up inside him, but he wasn’t sure what it was. The strange touch was hypnotic, it altered his thoughts a moment before her finger stopped at his mouth, and her words brought him back to reality. He hadn’t felt anything that powerful before, but he also chose to ignore it.

“Luna…” He looked down at her finger, feeling his lips move under its touch… He felt his whole body surrendering and he didn’t understand why. His will to continue to comfort and encourage her was the only thing keeping him talking. Reassuring her that he was coming home was the only thing that matter now. He had to make sure she understood him. That he would, honestly, come back!

“I said to stop… please…” she ducked her head into his chest fur, ruffling her face deeper inside it to rid herself of the tears and feel something warm and inviting again.

“I don’t care how powerful you are.” She spoke boldly now. “I don’t care! I love you!” she pulled out of his chest and lightly kissed him.

Now he was confused.

A moment ago, he was ready to pack up with a goal in mind. Hone his skills and help others, come back for Luna with gifts in hand, and live the rest of his life as a guardian over the little village.

But now..?

All he wanted to do was warp his arms around her thin waist, skim the skin of their lips over the other’s, and not think at all. Just feel.

He held her so close that there was nothing between them and brought her deeper into her misaimed kiss. It was rash and bold, and her inexperience led her to just dive and go for it. Thankfully, this didn’t deter his affections for her. He found where her lips were and started to kiss back, feeling her sudden strength falter and finally, she too surrendered her weight into him.

When air was required, the two parted and just hung in the moment, unable to separate feelings from reason.

“…How could I leave you?” his breathless confession gave her courage. “I’m madly in love with you, too…”

She went for another kiss, leaving him even more conflicted.

Nothing wanted to resist her, but everything in him knew he needed too.

She lured his resistance back down inside of him, pulling out a vulnerability he had never felt before. She lightly slid her hands down to his embracing arms, enticing him to follow her towards the side of their tree.

I have to stop this… if I don’t, she’ll never let me go.

His brain knew that, but his heart kept letting her lead.

Darn it! How is she so good at this!?

Though innocent to the ways of love, Luna seemed to have a knack for it. Whether she had been planning this for a while or just imagined it happening and played it out didn’t matter. Whatever it was, Luna was keeping him there, and that thought…

Scared him.

Luna leaned against the tree, pulling him close again as her fingers returned to the side of his face and brought his kiss deeper and deeper into her. When she moved away, he felt like the planet had shifted, opening his eyes and wondering what on earth was happening. It was great, but it was so sudden. What were we even talking about again?

“Then don’t go. Stay with me. Soler, don’t you want to stay?” it was so sweet, so inviting… he remembered once again what it was he had to do, what awful power lie inside of himself, and immediately took his hands away and placed them on the tree. They were on either side of her while he breathed a moment, shifting his eyes as he didn’t know now what to do. Give into his mind or his heart? What was the better option here?

“Please… don’t make this harder on me than it already is.” He was begging her to free him. Whatever entrapment she was casting on him, it was working all too well. “I don’t want to constantly have the fear that my power will burst out of me, hurt you or someone in your village.”

“Our village…” she cooed, moving towards his lips again.

Was this manipulation!? Should I care if it is or isn’t?! Luna… all I can think about is you now! Why is this so hard to bear…

In the middle of another passionate, but inexperienced kiss, he found his arms twitching to return to her sides… but he pulled away and placed them back on the tree’s trunk, resisting.

“No.” He had to side with his mind. Otherwise… otherwise… what horrors could happen to them if my powers whacked out and killed them all!?

“No, Luna…” He stated it again so faintly this time, she thought he had just been breathing.

She kissed his cheek and he pulled away once more, shaking his head but keeping his eyes shut. One look at her and he would be at her mercy again. He had to keep it together, somehow…

“Luna… Luna, I love you, but we’re so young.” It took every bit of him to fully move away, to think of her safety over the feelings she was tugging out of him. Like a tug-o-war, he kept fighting her gentle pulls and pulled back with his own. I have to win. For her safety. Why doesn’t she understand that!?

He shook his hand, rubbing the other hand through his quills as he moved away from their tree. I gotta calm down. If I don’t think clearly, I’ll disappoint The Chief… Or maybe… this is what The Chief meant by convincing me? No, no! They wouldn’t play me that way!

“Soler… I’m not a child anymore.” She asserted herself, stepping in front of him and cutting off his doubting thoughts. “It’s okay to kiss me. I don’t mind-“

“No, that’s not it! That kiss was amazing! Are you kidding me?!” His goofy side was coming out with his nerves, and she giggled at his response.

“Really..? It was my first…” she held her hands in front of herself, soaking in the praise and blushing with accomplishment. “But besides that… was it enough to make you stay?”

He froze, his hands still mid-motion running along the spikes on his head.

“…I just don’t think you’re listening to me.” He admitted, being honest. “I think all you hear is that I’m going away, but what you’re not hearing is that I’m coming back. For you, Luna. I’m going away and coming back for you.”

“You’re… leaving for me?” she decided not to argue about the ‘listening’ part, and instead, try and seek understanding.

“Yes!” he excitedly threw his hands up to his sides. “Yes! I want you safe! I want to make sure everyone is safe with me around! Do you understand, Luna? I want to stay, but I first have to make sure I’m safe.”

He put his hands to his heart, desperately hoping she’d understand now.

“You’ve seen my power before, haven’t you, Luna? Have you forgotten so quickly what I can do?”

“…You can… do incredible things.” She seemed to be understanding a bit more now, opening up to the idea more. This gave him strength in his resolve, but every fiber of his being wanted to reach for her cheek and pull her into another mutual kiss. He had to resist that urge though. He knew now he had to leave… tonight.

“But those things aren’t always incredibly good. They can also turn incredibly dangerous in seconds. I don’t have any control over it, Luna. What if one day—And I mean one day as in some day—I seriously hurt you beyond my current capabilities? What if, while I’m still growing up, my powers grow with me and I can’t take back what they do?”

Her face sunk into a look of hopelessness. “Do you really think it controls you?” she looked into his eyes.

“I have no idea what it is, or what it can do.” He admitted, moving up and finally letting his fingers curl around her cheek bones and place his forehead to hers. He closed his eyes, squinting them so hard he thought he’d burst into tears if he didn’t. “But I won’t let it happen. I’ll sharpen my powers. I’ll be someone who can save others. Not just on a fluke, but for real. I took a hit for you, remember? I really need you to take this one for me…”

He felt wrong pulling that out of the bag in such a way as he did. But it was his last resort. “Let me go, Luna?” he asked, so sincerely. “Let me go and be a good man.”

She gently… lifted her hand to his own and nodded, crying softly without words.

They stayed in the others embrace for a moment, holding one another as their emotions came back to a somewhat reasonable stability. After a moment of silence, Luna consoled herself and reserved her feelings. She looked back up at him, feeling him gently wipe her tears away with a soft smile on his face.

She finally spoke, “Okay.” She said lightly.

She held a long blink a moment, as if forcing herself to say it again. She opened her eyes and looked up into his again, “Okay…”

That night, Luna stood outside his small, roughly constructed hut the villagers had made for him as he gathered his things. He didn’t have much, but he needed supplies for a long journey. He didn’t give her a set time, not wanting to make any promises he couldn’t keep, but he did give her one last kiss. However, she pulled quickly out of it, not saying a word.

It lingered, that heartache from her silence and reserved attitude as he waved one last time down the track that lead to her home, the lively and pleasant village.

She didn’t wave back, she just winked with a forced smile.

“I’ll be back before you know it, Luna… Every time you see the sunrise-“ he pointed to the moon, “And every time I see the moon, I’ll be thinking of you.”

“…I’ll pray that the sun rises every day then.” She held her necklace tightly in her hand, holding in the words she really wanted to say. “Don’t go… don’t go…”

“I love you… I love you…” every time he wanted to look back, he took another step forward, uttering the words after her own silent pleadings.

She mouthed more of the same desperate longings for him to rush back into her arms, returning to her and forgetting everything he had said previously. But as he left earshot, heading off into the night, she could see each firm foot-fall at every step he dared to take. She knew then that he wouldn’t be tempted to turn back to her, and formed a strong face in the mist of her turmoil inside her heart.

She would be there when he returned, he just knew it.

He had to trust his gut.

But his gut was saying…

Don’t go.

---

Soler woke up with Sally hurriedly placing blankets on his head.

“H-huh?”

“Quick! Get me some hot water, anything to fight off the cold.”

“C-cold?”

“You idiot!” she saw he had awoken and placed her hands on her hips, stubbornly. “You fell asleep just before the winter night! Are you asking to get ill or something?”

He lifted a cold hand to his head, burning with a fever.

“Guess I was…” he joked, but Sally just rolled her eyes and then smiled at him.

“Well, how inconsiderate of you. Now we have to use precious medicine meant for emergencies on your slight fever.”

“Is it that bad?”

“I didn’t emphasize ‘slight’, did I?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then you’re not doing so hot.”

“Duly noted. Temperature?”

“What do you care? Your fever is your own doing. I’ll get a cold washcloth for your head, just don’t move from that spot, alright?” She was harsh, but there was always a loving touch behind each sarcastic jab.

I was almost thankful I got sick. Sally personally stayed by my side and nursed me. It was day two and she was making soup for me, waving off another freedom fighter from worrying about me. She said, “I’ll handle this one. You just make sure Nicole doesn’t overheat with all the decoding Tails and Rotor are making her do. Is Amy still with Sonic? Tell her he’s fine and he’s just being a baby. How about Shadow? You should tell him Soler’s fallen ill by his own accord. I don’t know, don’t ask me. We found him lying on a hill shivering in the absolute worst state last night. We would have never found him without Team Chaotix picking his signal up while searching for badniks.”

Soler smiled slightly, his eyes blinking a few times as he listened in on her voice while waking up to its worried tone, honing all his senses onto it.

Then she came in, making him nervous as he found he pulled the covers of the blankets up a bit before Sally saw he was awake.

With a kind smile, she put some food down and helped him sit up, “How are you feeling now? You gave us all quite a scare.” She slightly repeated herself, but this time, with a bit more care.

He didn’t really know how to tell her. It was on accident that he had fallen ill, but he was purposefully there to watch the moon…

“How’s the resistance?”

“The Freedom Fighters won’t give up, you know that. Much like how Sonic won’t quit complaining either.” She rolled her eyes before winking and leaning slightly closer to Soler, “At least you were knocked out before you could start whining, right?”

He snickered, “No one likes a cry-baby.”

“Ah, but everyone loves babies.” Sally joked again, “At least you’re being good. Anything hurt?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.”

She surprised him by placing her hand on his forehead, checking his temperature and then comparing it with her own. She moved closer and lifted the hand away, placing it down for support as she placed her forehead up against his own. He wasn’t sure if it was the fever that made his cheeks feel warm or not, but she pulled her lips back into a fine line and ‘hmm’d at the results of her investigation into his temperature. “It’s going down, which is good.”

He stared at her for a moment, the closeness between them bringing a small pulse of joy to his soul. He had to be utterly still, worried if he moved, she would also move away.

“Sally…” he begins, but the second he says her name…

“Am I not good enough?”

“Ahgh…”

Soler was the one to pull away first, feeling himself falter as Luna’s voice pierced his mind from that profound memory he had dreamed again. He hated that he was the reason the closeness between him and Sally was unbreached, but couldn’t be disgruntled about it now.

“Soler?” Sally worriedly leaned back before reaching for him.

He raised a hand, gripping the other to his head. “I’m fine. I’m fine… Sorry.” He didn’t want to explain it, but it wasn’t the physical illness that was plaguing him.

All he wanted to do was ask her. Why did guilt grip at him so much?

He didn’t want to shame his memory of Luna, his first ever love. He didn’t know whether true love was a thing or not, but he didn’t want to believe he could never find it again either.

“…You don’t have to go, do you?” she looked up, and it broke his heart to see her so upset.

“…No.” he whispered, letting the word slip out of his mouth. “I want to go, though.”

I really want to go, Luna. Please…

“Soler… do you need some more medicine? Here, at least eat something.” She got the food and placed it in front of his ducked head. He nodded, slowly reaching for it as Sally went to get some pills, dipping them in some water as they sprang out into dust. She spun the cup around, letting the particles dissolve and seem to disappear in the water.

“It’s not gonna taste great.”

Anything to drown out the pain.

He took the cup and began to gulp it down, then ate at the warm soup and licked his lips at the lingering flavor.

He didn’t want to hurt Luna again… even if it was just the memory of her.

I’m sorry, Sally. He mentally scolded himself for listening to a memory. But he couldn’t… he couldn’t refuse her again.

“Let me go, Luna? Let me go and be a good man.”

“Hoo… if you ask me, we’ve all been overworked lately.” Sally sighed before sitting on a chair on the other side of the room, kicking a leg over her other and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Everyone has been demanding so much of us… Eggman is relentless and Shadow and Sonic still haven’t made amends about their last ‘dispute’.” She looked a little strained… this would be the perfect moment.

“You need a vacation.” Soler politely stated with a hint of humor in his gruff voice, due to his condition.

“A beautiful girl like yourself shouldn’t be working day in and day out without some sort of afternoon walk.”

She looked up at him for a moment. After processing what he stated, she smiled and rested her chin on her hand, leaning on the armrest. “Yeah, and get a cold just like you? Becoming useless to everyone for two days..?” she teased with a friendly smile.

Were we… flirting?

“I couldn’t do a vacation, maybe a break though.”

This really was the perfect moment, but before he could try and push the memory of Luna aside, trying to delicately remind himself that she wasn’t even here… but was gone, he faded off into his fever. “Would be… kinda nice… to walk with… someone…again.” his eyes drooped and he finally receded back into his deep sleep.

“Soler? Soler, are you okay?” She stood up, “Soler!” She raced to his bedside, but he could feel the sleep coming on and knew the dream would only continue where it left off.

---

Fire.

Screams had already deafened out into silence.

Soler watched as Luna was killed right before his eyes, then a vile threat from the shadowed figure, unable to be identified through the haze of the smog from the village flames and the burning that blurred Soler’s eyes.

Why did I have to go?

After the terrible events, he held Luna’s body, desperate to sense life in it.

She was gone. Not a single word of goodbye or even a reunion from being gone so long.

His emotions couldn’t handle it. He just clutched her lifeless and bleeding body in his hands. The blood was hot on his hands, but he felt numb to it. The red only blurred in the sight of the massive fog moving like a carpet that smelled of burning flesh and wood.

His eyes were half open, squinting through the tears and stinging air. He could hardly breathe. His heart was smashed under the stress, not even wanting to beat anymore, but the adrenaline kept him alive.

Red… the sky soaked the world in an endless red.

Dawn.

When everything in him finally came back to reality, he carried Luna’s body through the ash-filled village; at least, what remained of it. He continued to walk as though a ghost passing through a memory. For a moment, the village was alive again. Young men and women walked at a leisurely pace to do their chores, and the elders of the village worked their wheels or cooked their meals safely tucked away in their little homes. Life was blissful and uneventful. Was that why I had to leave?

He was entranced in his vision before his eyes twitched when his foot bumped up against something.

Looking down, he noticed he had knocked a small doll to the side, but it slowly rolled back to look directly up at Soler. Its expression was singed with black soot. What have I done?

Of course it wasn’t Soler’s fault, but he fell to his knees, gripping Luna’s body and letting her blood dry on his white fur.

He crumbled in the center of the village, leaning forward all the way till his head rested just above her side, crying out a loud, grieving mourn.

His wailing chased the birds that came to eat the corpses away, cawing at his abruptness in the now stilled morning.

How long have I been like this? How much time has passed?

Crying out in such agonized pain, he felt his voice grow sore and losing itself.

More. I have to cry more. It’s not enough!

Some lasting flames still licked at the remaining and burnable woods, straws, and yarns that were all but dust by the time Soler had arrived.

Luna… Chief… the villagers…

Gone.

---

Soler flinched awake, gasping as he felt his breath fill with clean air again. Fresh, pine-smells from the forest outside blew from the window above his low-riding bed. The dews of the last rainfall lingered in the cool breeze as he tried to get his bearings again.

The heat of that morning… it was so vivid and tangible just a moment ago. It was immediately replaced by this… this peaceful and serene morning.

His sweat made him shiver, gripping the blankets and trying to rub them against his shoulders and arms.

He felt better physically, but there was still a fever deep in his memory… a fever of Neo Metal Sonic… a recalling of past events that were now, eternally, seared into his mind.

He hadn’t had that real of a nightmare for a while. He thought—maybe, his PTSD had finally passed. He wondered for a long time while taking his walks, reading his books, training in the forest, and on the mountain sides that perhaps he could live a normal life again.

That apparently wasn’t the case.

“Aughh…” he rubbed his head, wiping his nose on his glove and looking himself over. “I need a bath.” He stuck his tongue out, disgusted at the idea of him being asleep for so many days in the same, now sweat-soaked bed.

He flipped the sheets over and began to walk towards the bathroom. Gripping the hose from atop the makeshift shower, he washed himself down and cleaned his clothes the old-fashion way. All he had were his shoes and gloves anyway, he wasn’t as lazy and inconsiderate of other people’s time as some would have supposed.

After that… he just got up and went to look for something to do. If his mind was occupied, maybe his heart would be too.

Tails and Rotor… Sally had mentioned they were getting Nicole to work on some things. He wasn’t really tech savvy, but he could hold his own in a conversation if needs be.

He decided to head over there first, and wasn’t surprised to see Sonic and Shadow peering with different expressions at the results flying through the computer screen.

Yikes… Shadow looks concerned.

He was probably the only person alive who would read Shadow’s multiple frowns. Where one may say he’s angry, Soler would say he’s just thinking. Someone could accuse Shadow of being condescending, and Soler would politely suggest he’s just showing some tough love.

Amy once thought Shadow was being rude, but Soler calmly explained he was attempting humor.

Sonic would battle with Shadow through wit and brawns, but Soler just knew that’s how they got along.

So when he saw Shadow’s face, he knew he wasn’t ticked off by Sonic’s grin, but simply worried about the results he was reading.

“You’re being too rash, Sonic.” Shadow almost growled the words out, but there was a refined elegance to his stance. He pivoted a foot toward him, removing his folded arms to gesture one out to him. This action forced Sonic to look at the movement and pay attention to his words, which made Soler smile, because Shadow seemed to also have an understanding of how Sonic worked. “If we try an all-out, frontal attack with these numbers… Some of our people may not be coming back.” He tightened his fist, showing his resolve in not losing anymore comrades.

Soler tightened the line of his mouth, not sure what he thought of that statement. If Shadow’s concerned, then this next raid must be a big deal…

“What’s to worry about?” Sonic shrugged, still happy-go-lucky as ever. “We’ve got Nicole to figure out all the possibilities and she’s already confirmed what we need is in there. We just have to use some sneak and distraction to get it out.” He wiggled his fingers down and moved them swiftly to the side, as though stating the ‘distraction’ part would be a walk in the park.

Soler decided to lean on the door post, listen for further clues before possibly saying anything.

“…Nicole.”

The voice freaked him out a moment, leaning up again from his relaxed stance and turning to see Sally stride forward, placing herself between Shadow and Sonic. She really did look regal, positioning herself right between the two different opinions of these powerful men.

“Is that machine you found really worth all this trouble?”

Sonic put a hand to his hip, tilting his head to Sally as though hoping she would side with him, but looked up to see Nicole’s answer instead.

“… I’m so sorry, Sally. But if Eggman really does complete the framework and design that Tails and Rotor showed me… it would be devastating for the entire Freedom Fighting cause. Not only would he be trying to mass-robotize whole continents with this device, but the level of fire-power in these system outlines also concludes a possible, massive war-weapon.”

“Is he that desperate to know our location?” Shadow countered, but Sonic snickered a reply as quick as blue lightning.

“Nah, he’s through trying to find our many stashed bases all over Mobius. He’s ready to just blow it all sky-high and rebuild later!” Sonic’s attitude rubbed Soler the wrong way, and he finally stepped forward.

“You should be taking this a bit more seriously, Sonic.” Defending Shadow’s end, Soler watched as Sonic and the others turned to address him.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the moon-watcher.” Sonic smiled, raising an eyebrow. “You done with your ‘light cold��� yet?”

Soler knew he was teasing him, but he still felt a little insulted. His eyelids dropped halfway to show his unamused expression as Sonic twitched at his serious response.

“Geez, you usually love my quips.” He pfft’d. “Someone’s been hanging out with Mr. Grumpy Quills too much.” He looked to Shadow. “Your boy’s up.”

“He’s not a boy, nor mine.” Shadow glared to Sonic but stepped up to Soler. “Your timing couldn’t be more perfect. We’ve got an ideal mission for your abilities. We need someone to endure Eggman’s offenses while we storm his fortress. We’re after that.” He pointed back to the screen as Nicole showed the massive fighter ship, still under construction in some areas.

Nicole then materialized in front of Sonic and Sally, stepping boldly to Shadow and Soler. “Is this really a clear plan?” She questioned, looking sheepishly scared at Shadow’s suggestion. “He’s an able fighter, but…”

“What Nicole is trying to say,” Sally about-faced, moving over to Shadow and Nicole. “Is that Soler is inexperienced and can get a little emotional when coming to his full power.”

Soler looked down, a little embarrassed she was speaking this way about him.

“Then I haven’t trained him enough.” Shadow quickly looked back at him, a true teacher’s anger as Soler felt fear spike up his spine.

Shadow gripped the top of Soler’s head, “If your last little outburst didn’t teach you patience and reason, then I have no choice but to put you through the ringer…” he started to drag Soler out the door, and knowing how awful Shadow’s routines could be, Soler knew his struggles wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Shadow’s perfectionist views this time.

“Wait-!” Sally outstretched her hand.

Oh, thank Chaos!

Sally looked kindly to Soler, “…He just recovered. I’ll talk to him. I’m the leader of the Freedom Fighters after all. I’ll judge whether he’s really ready or not.”

Shadow gave her a stern look as he slowly released Soler’s head from his firm, killer death grip.

“Very well… but if he doesn’t amount to your expectations…” He folded his arms, glaring down at Soler, as if to say- Don’t disappoint me a second time.

Soler gulped. Even after all these years, Shadow still saw him as a hopeless child.

Sonic clutched his stomach and laughed, walking over and swinging an arm around Soler. “Man! You should have seen the look on your face!”

Soler pouted, “It’s not like you haven’t had a time where Sally’s saved your butt either, Blue.”

“Hahahahaha-Watch it.” Almost as if a tick on a clock’s hand, Sonic’s charming ways shifted to a serious look of humiliation.

“Heh. Men will be boys.” Sally shook her head and then waved for Soler to follow her. “Come on, Soler. I’m ready for that ‘walk’ now.”

Soler could feel a gentle but heated blush on his face, but Sonic leaned toward his cheek with a suspicious side glance, leering on the colorful pink of his face…

“Now, what’s this..?”

 “Ah! G-got to go! Can’t keep a princess waiting!” Soler quickly leaned away and dashed. Not wanting to be found out, he charged to Sally’s side.

Sonic seemed confused, but only thought about it for a moment before growing bored and shrugging it off.

Shadow walked the opposite direction away from the two, and Sally sighed after seeing him out of ear-shot. “That was close.” Sally breathed out.

“Huh?” Soler looked back at her, seeing her face light up with a short giggle.

“What do you mean, ‘huh’?” she lightly nudged his shoulder, “I mean I just saved you from Shadow, the drill sergeant.” She laughed a little more boldly now that the two of them were heading into the thick of the forest.

She touched her head and arched her arm in, really letting herself enjoy the feeling. “Man, I haven’t laughed that good in a while!”

He smiled, seeing her happy made him feel good, even if that laughter was directed at an odd circumstance…

“Hehe… What’s gotten into you, anyway? I thought you wanted to take a walk and not get involved in war affairs for a while.” She looked onward, but Soler just kept staring at her.

“That’s…” he finally looked away, uncomfortable about mentioning Sonic’s words.

“What? You really think I don’t know you well enough?” She raised a playful eyebrow, and for a moment, he realized she thought he was going to say something else.

“N-no, no. That’s not-“ Before he could say anything more, she suddenly quieted down and smiled. She closed her eyes and put her hands behind her back.

“…Hmm… Maybe I only imagine the parts of you I don’t know.” She looked up at the sky, lingering there as Soler was completely captured in how she looked. Her brown fur in the morning light made a blonde line around her body. Her red hair glistened and waved like grass along the hillside.

She finally positioned her gaze forward towards the continuing dirt path, a sorrowful expression taking root in her eyes. “I often think you’re this poor, misunderstood softie who just has a pretty hard-knock past… who doesn’t? But then I see you lose control like that… and I begin to see why Shadow takes you so seriously.”

He felt his mouth grow dry, nerves at what she was saying sinking in.

“I’m…” He looked away from her. “Dangerous, I know.”

“No, not that.” She quickly spoke out, but then corrected herself, “I mean, by all accounts, each member of the Freedom Fighters is possibly dangerous. Maybe you are destructive, but… So are the rest of us. In one way or another.” Her comforting, yet completely brash words made him slowly turn back to her.

“You’re not afraid?”

“I’m only afraid of what Eggman knows, and what I don’t know about what he knows.” She tightened her stare to a deeper resolve, and he knew he touched a nerve then.

“S-sorry.” He looked forward, realizing he should drop that subject…

She grew serious then, ducking her head down, walking with more precision and a stronger stride. “I have to be everything this resistance needs me to be… I can’t afford to be afraid. Only cautious and wise.”

Soler nodded, “I think I understand that.” He then saw the awfulness of war in her face, the sweet girl that had to pull everything back to be a vicious warrior who couldn’t pay the price of defeat.

He felt his hand reach for her, but withdrew it back to his side, rubbing his arm.

A pair of lips mouthed ‘Don’t go’ in his mind’s eye.

His eyes quaked and he froze a moment, shaking his head and gripping it to try and rid himself of the jarring memory.

“Soler?” Sally stopped walking and turned back to him, looking concerned. “Is something wrong? Was it something I said?”

He looked to her kind and compassionate expression.

…How could I leave you?

“Augh!”

Soler turned away from her, gripping his head with more force now. “Stop it!”

Sally looked confused, but carefully walked towards him with her arms out. “Soler… what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

I’m madly in love with you, too…

“Soler?”

“I’m… It’s a memory!”

“A memory?” Sally stopped, letting her foot delicately land in front of her for a second as she processed what he was saying. “Is this..?”

…Was it enough to make you stay?

“Augh…” he fell to his knees. “Luna… let me go. Let me be a good man… let me… move on.” He found himself curling up, his quills sticking out and shaking.

Sally waited a moment, but couldn’t stand watching him suffer like this.

“Soler.” She firmly stated, tightening a fist, “This isn’t real.”

His tearing eyes burst open, looking up at Sally who morphed with Luna’s image, coming towards him.

“It’s just a memory, right? It can’t hurt you, Soler… You’re not alone.” She gently sat beside him and then…

He could feel her touch.

He breathed hard, hunched over as he was, while she gently glided her fingers with a stroke against his back, lovingly calming and comforting him. “This must be a side I don’t know about you, yet.” She concluded, letting her fingers weave through his standing quills and gently encourage them to lower back down.

“I’ve seen Sonic in a cold-sweat, waking in a frenzy and heard him say it was all just PTSD from losing his uncle… But he got his uncle back… and those nightmares ended. I had almost forgotten that not all people are as fortunate.”

He looked up, and gasped when he saw a tear streaming down her face.

It was like a goddess weeping, her look of serenity. “I had to let my father and mother go, too… I often forget that feeling. It was like freedom and remorse all crammed into one, big heart.” She smiled gently as she blinked her eyes open, showing more tears falling from her strong, sweet presence.

He couldn’t help but stare, like a welcomed angel to help him through his grief.

He felt so embarrassed, having such a huge episode in front of her. He squished his face against the earth and rubbed himself into it deeper and deeper, wishing he could just barrow away and be left to his miserable self.

“I don’t deserve this.” Soler admitted, “… I deserved to die instead of-“ He found himself choking to say her name in front of Sally.

Sally seemed to understand that he didn’t want to discuss it, and removed her hand from his back, nodding with empathy. “Let’s not talk further about it then.”

She helped him up, letting him get his balance again before smiling up at him, “We can still have a nice walk after this, right?”

He was grateful for her humor, and nodded. “Please,… don’t end the journey on my account.”

She thought that funny too. “Journey? I suppose in many ways, it is.” She began to walk beside him again, just letting him catch his breath.

“…Soler, I want you to know…” she gently took his arm, seeing him stagger a moment. “I’m here if you need anything.” She looked up at him again. “Anything at all.”

For a moment, he could see a whole different world in her eyes. A world where there wasn’t death and mourning; a world where a beautiful woman and distraught man could walk through the woods and feel at peace by one another’s sides.

Then, there was a loud explosion.

The two turned immediately back to base, hearing shouting as they looked up.

Sally cried out, “Eggman! He’s already found us!”

A squadron of Eggbots and more elite soldiers suddenly dropped from the sky like metallic rain. They crashed into huts and homes, buildings and gardens, sparing nothing as they continued their onslaught.

“The plans must have been old. He’s already created his war ship!”

Soler’s eyes scanned the blasts from the robot army’s arm-canons and lasers sparking fires everywhere. The screams…

Everyone running around in horror…

He went to grip his head but stopped himself, shaking as his muscles twitched with rage and rising vengeance.

His eyes slowly narrowed down. He bolted forward, summoning his power within him and charging back to the hideout.

“Soler!” Sally wasn’t trying to stop him, only alerting him to her presence close behind him.

“Eeeevvvillll day, citizens!” A voice spoke through a speaker, ringing through the sky and to the ground. The EggCarrier was a fierce looking blimp with Eggman’s nose as its point, and his mustache as its sharp and spiked wings.

“Whohooho! Weren’t expecting company now, were you?!” Eggman’s booming voice fueled the emotions inside of Soler. He definitely didn’t care if his power was stable inside him at the moment. All Soler cared about was getting to that ship fast enough!

Suddenly, as if summoned by his desire to fight, Tails and Sonic were seen soaring at an angle in the X-Tornado. Seizing his opportunity, Soler pushed off and grabbed the tip of its wing.

“Woah!” Sonic looked to the side of him, seeing Soler.

A moment of unspoken resolve was sent across the space between them, and Sonic paused a moment to register the sheer determination in Soler’s eyes.

There was unfinished business. He needed to vent and he needed this fight. Now.

Sonic smiled, understanding the look in his eyes and lowering a hand down to him. “Well, come on then.” He spoke out calmly as Soler nodded, lifting an arm up to grip the wing better and grab Sonic’s hand.

He climbed aboard the wing next to Sonic and hung on with one hand tightly clasped down on the front edge of the wing.

He looked down to Sally, slowing her run as she gapped at his feat.

“…I’m sorry.” He lightly spoke out, but he saw her nod as though she understood the look in his eyes as well, and raced to help the village of Freedom Fighters.

“You tagging along, too?” Tails looked up and to the side, raising an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of Soler.

Sonic chuckled, looking back at Soler as he smirked.

He gave Tails a thumbs-up, “More like a stowaway. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all!” Tails looked just as fired up, but maybe in a different way. He had been cooped up with Rotor and Nicole for so long… he probably needed to let out steam and give his head a break.

“Although, this is rather a tedious mission… You sure you can keep your powers under control?” Tails inquired, but Sonic quickly interjected for Soler.

“Shadow’s his teacher, right? I’m sure he’ll be fine. I’ve fought by Soler’s side plenty of times. He’s a bro!” Sonic winked and then looked to Soler, showing some confidence in the youth. “Let me ask you something.” He said this with a humorous tone in his voice, but also with one of sincerity. “That machine we were talking about before… the massive Robotizer… Think you can use that chaos of yours to good use?”

Soler thought about it a moment. He wanted to say, ‘Absolutely!’ but he was somewhat unsure.

After all this time, he was still scared of his abilities. But now, he wanted to take courage. He wanted to be more than his nightmares.

He glared towards the EggCarrier. “Leave it to me.”

“We need something strong and sure. You ready for this?”

“…I will be.” Soler felt every fiber of his being fill with chaos power. It was almost as if the power inside of him knew how desperately he needed to prove himself. He wasn’t a ghost of his past, he was still alive. He could still fight.

Tails began to warn them, turning the plane at a sharp right to have the plane perfectly adjacent to a loading dock where some of the robots were falling from.

“Jump off here! I’ll take some out before they hit the ground!” Tails hollered out.

“Good thinking, Tails!” Sonic looked to Soler. “Ladies first.”

Soler rolled his eyes and jumped. While Sonic chuckled and jump below him, Soler smirked and grabbed Sonic’s top quill. “Then,” he spun in the air to throw Sonic into a horde of marching robots that were about to fall below. “After you!” His tactical swing was so strong that Soler forced Sonic to instinctively spin into a ball, taking out the lines of robots like a bowling ball on the loading dock.

Sonic created a path as Soler began to punch and round-house kick stragglers who managed to dodge Sonic’s attack.

Sonic kept spin-dashing, coming back to homing attack any robots aiming for Soler as Soler let out a few Chaos Spears and then showered the area inside with a Chaos Hailstorm. “HAAAAAA!!!”

The robots were stabbed through and misfired, hitting the loading dock as its side became detached.

“W-woah!” Sonic unspun and put a hand to the unstable metal, seeing the dock slide off one hinge and begin to dangle a moment from the EggCarrier.

“Soler!” he cried out, grabbing his hand and swinging him up inside the blimp.

Soler slid inside, seeing a few robots fire at him and dodged as best he could while still on the ground and holding Sonic’s hand.

“Take… this!” with his torso straining, he flung Sonic up from the edge before the boarding dock detached and began falling towards the village. Luckily, the X-Tornado took out the falling debris to be less dangerous, and Sonic spun into more of the large army.

Soler felt a laser glaze his shoulder and another fire into his side.

“Awk!” He fell to a knee, not sure which area to grab first. “S…Sonic, get out of the way!” he felt his power charging. His fingers twitched. He was going for the machine…

The machine had just started to descend, a large panel on the blimp’s floor opened in a spiral as the robots were flung out of the blimp from the powerful winds.

“Hmmm!? And what are you planning to do!?” Eggman’s voice blasted in his ears.

“I’m going to…” Soler stopped speaking a moment, looking below as the wind began to scoot his feet towards the opened hole. “Grrk…” he gritted his teeth, trying to stay upright and not get sucked into the wind tunnel.

Sonic grabbed a bar near him and looked to Soler, straining to stay upright as well. “How much time you need?”

“I…” Soler felt himself faltering. The chaos power began to rage inside of him. What was he fighting for? He just wanted to get rid of all these feelings. It was too much on him.

What am I fighting for? Luna’s memory? A future for the Freedom Fighters? Why can’t I make up my mind?

Almost at once, he saw the machine turn on, wheeling two giant gears as the beam charged.

“Soler!” Sonic cried out, “NOW!”

He heard… but he couldn’t move.

His eyes shook.

Luna…

Chief…

Shadow…

Sonic…

Sally…

He closed his fist, then his eyes, and ducked his head. The power around him was growing in unusual strength.

“You didn’t have to do that…” she commented, fixing him up before tightening the bandages as he held in another painful cry, puffing his cheeks up with air. ‘Mercy…’ he thought to himself. She smiled at his cute attempt to swallow the air back down but knew what it all meant. “But I’m very grateful you did.” she held him in a stare for a moment, but it felt like a long while to him. Looking into her eyes… was like watching a constellation go by…

She turned with a blush, “So is my father-!” she chimed in, clearing her throat at her obvious nerves that spiked as he didn’t look away from her. “A-and my village! We’re all in debt to your sacrifice and-and…”

He shook his head, a softer side coming out of him as his face turned to one of hope.

“As long as you’re alright, that’s all that matters.”

“…Thank you.”

He could see the memory, but the voice was his own. He knew now. He knew what he was fighting for.

“Please… think of the real people around you… think of the hero you want to be… the one Luna saw in you… that day you saved her life.” Amy said.

His eyes flexed and his pupils dilated. He recounted taking that bullet for her.

His hand twitched, the light in it slowly fading away…

“Life is worth saving, Soler… Don’t throw your life away for one victory… that needlessly leads to further suffering and pain. We’d all miss you, Soler… we all love and need you so much…” she lowered her head, crying into his chest as the warm tears cooled his boiling rage…

“This isn’t a redemption anymore.” Soler smiled, looking up with a relief he hadn’t found in years. “I have people to protect again. I have a me I want to be. I’m not meant to mope around or sob over lost stories…”

“What?” Sonic looked a little weirded out at his spoken narrative. “Look, I’m all for redemption arcs, b-but… is now really the time!?”

“I had my repentance… I had my redemption… it’s time… to save everyone like Luna and her village! Those who don’t have anyone! I’m not as useless as I used to be! I’m strong now! I’m strong enough to save everyone!” He jumped, feeling the wind take him into the line of fire.

“S-…Soler!?!?” Sonic’s eyes widened, “What the… Soler!” thinking the worst, Sonic let go and dived for him.

He didn’t make it in time.

“It’s time for my origin to end… and my new beginning… to start.” Soler smiled, thinking back on the happy times, the good moments from his past and his present. The future… never looked more beautiful.

He saw Sally in his mind’s eye, he saw Luna next to her, happily cheering him on and then looking to Sally, smiling to her and then back to Soler.

“Thank you… Luna.” He let the power soar through him, “I’ll never stop loving you… but thank you for letting me love more than I ever thought possible.”

The laser blasted out its robotic chemical beam, but as the metal began to engulf his being, losing his will…

His chaos reversed, blasting out a Chaos Canon as he shoved his half-metallic arms up at the machine, crying out just before losing all feeling in his body. “CHAOS CANNNOOONN!!!”

A huge surge of a synergy burst spread throughout the blimp, the beam was cut off from reaching the ground.

Immediately, the machine began to be coated in an extra layer of metal, as though the chaos power reverted the effects onto itself, and the machine began to malfunction and finally…

KA-KA-KABBBOOOMMMM……!!!!!!!

The sound wave sent Sonic flying back to the side of the ship. “Offph!” he slammed against the wall, but refused to give up. Thinking his friend was in need of him, he got himself off the wall and pushed off, fighting the wind-force that was continually funneling him away instead of inside the gapping hole in the middle of the EggCarrier, the exact opposite of before.

Soler felt the metal slowly chip off his skin, being revived to his normal colors from the roboticization process. He had reversed the effects… this could be huge, but he didn’t have enough strength to dwell on it further.

He could feel something launch into himself and pull him out of the blast of the crippled machine, falling in pieces, being blown off and toppling through the sky, shot into dust by the X-Tornado.

His ears were ringing with deafness. His eyes glazed as the steel-like sight returned to normal and Sonic landed on the X-Tornado.

Everyone below… are they okay? I hear… cheering… Sonic… Did you save me?

As he came too, he thought he could see a Silver-quilled hedgehog. He reached for her, seeing only Luna.

“….You did well, Soler. I’m so proud of you. Thank you… for saving everyone.”

“L…Luna…”

“Hehe! You silly, hedgehog! I’m glad you’re not hurt. Do me a favor, okay? Don’t forget what you said… I won’t.”

“I… I will protect them… Luna. For you… and for all those… I care about.”

“Good. Don’t let me down, mister!” ”Soler!”

Sally’s voice broke the trance as he saw the image fade and Sally’s blurry image race through it, falling down to his side.

Was I already on the ground? We landed safely?

“Sonic! What did you let him do!?”

“Me?! Why is it always me?! I saved his life! He was about to die in the line of fire!” animatedly, Sonic looked a bit offended but let Soler down to the ground as carefully as he could. “Hmph, it’s not like you ever worry this much about me.”

“You don’t have cosmic power that could kill you!” she gave him a side glare.

Sonic sweat-dropped a moment and awkwardly shrugged, “But I got a willful soul to worry about…”

“Impulsive, impractical-!”

“S…Sally.” Feeling bad for Sonic, Soler redirected those beautiful blue eyes back to him again.

“Soler… Are you okay? What were you thinking? You could have been robotized or worse!”

“Heh,… Good to … see you too.”

She threw her arms around him, thankful as she tried to hold her emotions within herself. “I was so worried… that you would have become… another painful memory…”

This time, there wasn’t any flashback that would pull him away from her now.

He struggled to lean up, but he willed his body to do so, tucking an arm around her and holding her closer to himself. He rested his head next to hers, hearing her light gasp as she felt his presence more strongly now.

“I promise you, too, Sally… I will be a living memory of how merciful the world can be.”

Sally’s eyes couldn’t hold back the tears.

“Sorry to worry you.”

Sonic stepped back a moment, seeing the two’s interaction, he began to look a little worried himself…

“Is it just me… or did you two get a little… close all of a sudden?” He seemed a bit apprehensive.

Sally glared up at him, “At least he can openly talk deep with me. Unlike some boys I’ve dated.”

“Hey!”

It wasn’t long after that, when Soler finally found a safebox that he hand-painted himself, and put Luna’s necklace in it. He dug a pretty good hole near the hill he star-gazed and admired the moon on, placing the box in it and marking it as a much needed grave for her.

With her body so burnt up, there wasn’t much too bury last time… this was much more peaceful and freeing for him.

So many bodies… at least this was a proper farewell.

This is the least I can do for you… Luna.

He gently bent down and kissed the ground he had just thrown over the box. Leaning up, he looked at the sky, seeing no moon tonight…

“Sleep well… Luna.” He wiped a tear from his eye and walked back to town, hoping to help out in repairing the damages.

Getting back, he hoisted a log with others over his shoulder and began to carry it to its designated site… Then Sally caught his attention.

She seemed to be giving directions and orders, holding a clipboard and checking it often before giving anymore feedback.

He smiled, it gave him strength.

On the way back to get some more lumber, he noticed her wipe her forehead and sit down by a stump, looking exhausted.

It’s time.

He took a deep breath, shaking off the thought of how sweaty and gross he was from lifting and moving large logs all day. He approached her and offered her his hand.

She noticed the crossed black stripes that made an ‘X’ in his glove and looked up.

“I think it’s time for that vacation now.” He charmingly stated.

She smiled, accepting his hand and getting up. “You know… it’s been hard since I left Sonic, but… You’re different, Soler. I feel different with you. In a lot of good ways, n-nothing bad! Ohh…” she hid behind a hand, and the cute retreat from the comment made him blush with an even bigger grin.

“You just… You let emotion sit with you and carry you to new discoveries, Soler. It’s one of the most powerful things about you, your quality of just… surviving through the strength you receive from your past. I know it must be painful, but I admire your strength so much…”

She saw that as strength!?

He was in complete awe at her words.

“I’ve noticed… how much you try and help. How dedicated you are to not losing another friend or fight. You always get up. You never just sink down so far that you can’t find yourself again… sometimes… I feel that’s exactly what I do.” She removed her hand and balled it up, looking away.

Soler then realized that maybe Sally was hurting in a different way from himself. His was a lot more physically affecting his life. Maybe… Sally’s was deeper inside, something that she would never let close to the surface.

His empathy for her skyrocketed, he couldn’t help but pull her a bit closer, move her hand from her face and have her turn to him.

She was amazed at his bold move, but it didn’t seem to miss its point…

“Sally… I don’t want you to suffer. Especially alone… Just like you told me, you can talk to me, too. You can rely on me. I’ve learned the hard way how to hold something in for so long, letting it fester and grow into something ugly and tragic… and I want to help you break out of that habit. It’s so easy to slip into despair… but the people we love don’t want us to feel despair. They want us to be liberated from the pains we hold onto. They want us to remember their best selves…” his voice was full of honest experience, of good intent, and of wisdom beyond his years.

Sally let out a soft sigh, lowering her eyes and letting a small, pleading smile escape her composure. “I like this about you, too… The side of you that lets people feel and experience pain… but also offering yourself to be apart of that pain so they can release it. I’ve seen you help others, but never help yourself. I wanted to help you, I just… didn’t know how.”

He looked to her hand, his around her wrist, and slowly… begins to bring his fingers up to hers and gently, sweetly… enticing them to let go of their tension and uncurl, letting him in.

“Sally… May I ask you on a date?”

She giggled, but looked to their hands intertwining.

“Yes. I’m excited to see what I say.” She teased, and Soler couldn’t help but let out a nervous chuckle. He was falling in love again, and it was different, just like Sally said.

But it was also very reassuring… and very… relieving.

“I’m excited to see where this new path takes me.” He holds her hand tenderly, and the two of them start to walk off together.

I’m so thankful… That I can now share my emotions with others. Because I have had this pain, I can understand them more than ever before. I can love more deeply, care more sincerely, and cherish those things that I’m allowed to keep. I can hold them close, closer to my heart than I was ever willing to do before. I won’t leave the places where I belong, or desert the hearts I have sworn to protect.

The two seemed very happy with their new relationship, watching it take form over the time they’ve shared together. Soler looked up at the spot where the moon would be again.

Luna, I will thank you till I have no breath left to utter, no thought left to think. You’ve shown me a better path and how to truly care about people. I’m sorry for what happened, but I will never be sorry for meeting you, the Chief, and your village. You helped me open up to the world, meet amazing people, like those that could teach me and those who could support me. They’re all such great people, you would have love them.

This time, He gripped Sally’s hand more, pulling his head towards her as she returned the kind gesture by letting her nose lightly bump against his own. A faint blush formed on both their muzzles. I’ll protect the things and people I love… under your watchful, relaxed, night sky’s eye…

The next day, the moon returned. It’s dark grey shapes shifted to look as though a smiling face…

( Here’s the song I’ll be referencing for this little wrap up >//w//< https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qgmXPCX4VzU Photograph by Ed Sheeran)

Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes

Luna is walking behind Sally and Soler, her hands happily behind her back, laced together as she giddily follows them and then stops. She lifts a leg a little bit, swaying as she lets them walk off,… alone. But it's the only thing that I know… When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes It is the only thing makes us feel alive

Flashback to Soler having his nightmares, but he gets up and walks out to the hallways and knocks on Sally’s door. She opens it and immediately touches his head. It’s pounding and she lovingly kisses it, closing her door and holding his hand, walking out with him and cheerfully trying to take his mind off things to avoid further PTSD.

We keep this love in a photograph We made these memories for ourselves

Luna’s necklace still glows in the buried box, showing many shapes of the moon, time going by. Where our eyes are never closing Hearts are never broken And time's forever frozen still

A memory is shown with Soler, much younger, sitting on a hill next to Luna. Their two heads turn into each other, as if the village never burned and no one ever died.

So you can keep me Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet You won't ever be alone,…

wait for me to come home

There’s a flash of light and Soler is heading off down the road, he holds onto her necklace, he turns and sees Luna trying to keep face. He waves, and puts her necklace in his gloves. As he does, the world shifts to a blazing fire behind him, his eyes red from tears, his gloves dirtied from the many graves he had to dig…

Loving can heal, loving can mend your soul And it's the only thing that I know, know

It’s modern day again, Sally and Soler are laughing and enjoying a meal together. She holds up something for him to eat and he goes to get it with his mouth, but she pulls the fork away, playfully laughing as he pouts. I swear it will get easier Remember that with every piece of you Hmm, and it's the only thing we take with us when we die

He offers her the gesture, when she goes for it, he withdraws the food and kisses her. She embarrassingly flings back and then starts to playfully whack and throw food at him. He laughs and the food fight continues. Then there’s a shift to another time, the two sitting beside one another as their loved ones start to resurface as faded images behind them.

Hmm, we keep this love in this photograph We made these memories for ourselves Where our eyes are never closing Hearts were never broken And time's forever frozen still

The images show Sally as a child, with her loving parents and other friends she’s made and lost along the cruel way towards freedom. Soler has the Chief and Luna, along with many other faces of cheery people he met on his travels. A time where they never knew loss or heartache… but the memories are all pleasant, not a single one is sad or upsetting.

So you can keep me Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet You won't ever be alone

Soler helps Sally put her jacket on, she thanks him and takes up Nicole’s portable device. She turns to him and leans up on her tippity-toes. He does the same and she sighs, frustrated before they briefly kiss and she goes on a mission. He gets antsy, bouncing a bit before charging after her, swooping her up and rushing off on the mission with her.

And if you hurt me That's okay baby, only words bleed Inside these pages you just hold me And I won’t ever let you go

There’s a flash where Soler is holding Luna’s lifeless body, then suddenly he’s reaching for a wounded Sally… She reaches back to him, struggling to breathe as he shifts his chaos energy and blasts the area. Sally is unharmed as he picks her up. She smiles and touches her hand to his cheek, a single stream of tears starts down one of his cheeks, glad to see she’ll be okay. Wait for me to come home Wait for me to come home

Luna is playing hide and seek, peeking over a tree’s trunk as Soler chases after her. Wait for me to come home Wait for me to come home

Instead of Luna, Sally emerges to lean up against the tree, being caught by Soler as he slows the pace down and moves up to her, watching as she presses her back to the tree. He studies her eyes and then her mouth… leaning forward and closing his eyes…

Oh, you can fit me Inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen Next to your heartbeat where I should be Keep it deep within your soul

Luna’s necklace is around Soler’s neck, he’s holding Luna’s hand, she takes her necklace back and kisses him, putting it on herself and holding it close to herself. It means the world to her. He nods, letting her keep it.

And if you hurt me Well, that's okay baby, only words bleed Inside these pages you just hold me And I won’t ever let you go

Soler wakes up from a nap on the same hill, star-gazing when he sees the bright full moon. He then looks over, worriedly for a moment, when he relaxes at seeing Sally sleeping silently beside him, just resting by him as well.

When I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me

His memory takes him to Luna, but it rapidly flashes to Sally, sticking there. Under the lamppost back on Sixth street

The two close the gap between each other, holding hands. Hearing you whisper through the phone

Sally chickens out and shakes her head, laughing and holding her hands to her cheeks. Soler tries to get in for one last kiss goodnight but she shakes a finger at him and starts to run off. He snaps his fingers, rushing after her back to the hideout. "Wait for me to come home"

His ear flicks, as if hearing something and turns to see the moon appearing to sit on the hill. Its shadow looks like a figure of a girl, Luna..?

Sally calls for him and he turns back around, sorrowfully deciding not to look back, but knowing time will heal the wounds left in his heart. He smiles and lovingly takes Sally’s hand as they walk back to the hideout. He kisses her hand and she lightly hits his shoulder, bumping her hip into his as though shy. He looks forward, unafraid and undaunted by the moon behind him.

He knew it was only saying goodnight to him.

FIN

[lewiscarrollsocietynorthamerica]

CHAPTER XII. Alice’s Evidence

‘Here!’ cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the moment how large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with the edge of her skirt, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below, and there they lay sprawling about, reminding her very much of a globe of goldfish she had accidentally upset the week before.

‘Oh, I beg your pardon!’ she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and began picking them up again as quickly as she could, for the accident of the goldfish kept running in her head, and she had a vague sort of idea that they must be collected at once and put back into the jury-box, or they would die.

‘The trial cannot proceed,’ said the King in a very grave voice, ‘until all the jurymen are back in their proper places—all,’ he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice as he said do.

Alice looked at the jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, she had put the Lizard in head downwards, and the poor little thing was waving its tail about in a melancholy way, being quite unable to move. She soon got it out again, and put it right; ‘not that it signifies much,’ she said to herself; ‘I should think it would be quite as much use in the trial one way up as the other.’

As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the shock of being upset, and their slates and pencils had been found and handed back to them, they set to work very diligently to write out a history of the accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed too much overcome to do anything but sit with its mouth open, gazing up into the roof of the court.

‘What do you know about this business?’ the King said to Alice.

‘Nothing,’ said Alice.

‘Nothing whatever?’ persisted the King.

‘Nothing whatever,’ said Alice.

‘That’s very important,’ the King said, turning to the jury. They were just beginning to write this down on their slates, when the White Rabbit interrupted: ‘Unimportant, your Majesty means, of course,’ he said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him as he spoke.

‘Unimportant, of course, I meant,’ the King hastily said, and went on to himself in an undertone,

‘important—unimportant—unimportant—important—’ as if he were trying which word sounded best.

Some of the jury wrote it down ‘important,’ and some ‘unimportant.’ Alice could see this, as she was near enough to look over their slates; ‘but it doesn’t matter a bit,’ she thought to herself.

At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily writing in his note-book, cackled out ‘Silence!’ and read out from his book, ‘Rule Forty-two. All persons more than a mile high to leave the court.’

Everybody looked at Alice.

‘I’m not a mile high,’ said Alice.

‘You are,’ said the King.

‘Nearly two miles high,’ added the Queen.

‘Well, I shan’t go, at any rate,’ said Alice: ‘besides, that’s not a regular rule: you invented it just now.’

‘It’s the oldest rule in the book,’ said the King.

‘Then it ought to be Number One,’ said Alice.

The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. ‘Consider your verdict,’ he said to the jury, in a low, trembling voice.

‘There’s more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,’ said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry; ‘this paper has just been picked up.’

‘What’s in it?’ said the Queen.

‘I haven’t opened it yet,’ said the White Rabbit, ‘but it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to—to somebody.’

‘It must have been that,’ said the King, ‘unless it was written to nobody, which isn’t usual, you know.’

‘Who is it directed to?’ said one of the jurymen.

‘It isn’t directed at all,’ said the White Rabbit; ‘in fact, there’s nothing written on the outside.’ He unfolded the paper as he spoke, and added ‘It isn’t a letter, after all: it’s a set of verses.’

‘Are they in the prisoner’s handwriting?’ asked another of the jurymen.

‘No, they’re not,’ said the White Rabbit, ‘and that’s the queerest thing about it.’ (The jury all looked puzzled.)

‘He must have imitated somebody else’s hand,’ said the King. (The jury all brightened up again.)

‘Please your Majesty,’ said the Knave, ‘I didn’t write it, and they can’t prove I did: there’s no name signed at the end.’

‘If you didn’t sign it,’ said the King, ‘that only makes the matter worse. You must have meant some mischief, or else you’d have signed your name like an honest man.’

There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day.

‘That proves his guilt,’ said the Queen.

‘It proves nothing of the sort!’ said Alice. ‘Why, you don’t even know what they’re about!’

‘Read them,’ said the King.

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. ‘Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?’ he asked.

‘Begin at the beginning,’ the King said gravely, ‘and go on till you come to the end: then stop.’

These were the verses the White Rabbit read:—

  ‘They told me you had been to her,    And mentioned me to him:   She gave me a good character,    But said I could not swim.   He sent them word I had not gone    (We know it to be true):   If she should push the matter on,    What would become of you?   I gave her one, they gave him two,    You gave us three or more;   They all returned from him to you,    Though they were mine before.   If I or she should chance to be    Involved in this affair,   He trusts to you to set them free,    Exactly as we were.   My notion was that you had been    (Before she had this fit)   An obstacle that came between    Him, and ourselves, and it.   Don’t let him know she liked them best,    For this must ever be   A secret, kept from all the rest,    Between yourself and me.’

‘That’s the most important piece of evidence we’ve heard yet,’ said the King, rubbing his hands; ‘so now let the jury—’

‘If any one of them can explain it,’ said Alice, (she had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn’t a bit afraid of interrupting him,) ‘I’ll give him sixpence. I don’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it.’

The jury all wrote down on their slates, ‘She doesn’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it,’ but none of them attempted to explain the paper.

‘If there’s no meaning in it,’ said the King, ‘that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn’t try to find any. And yet I don’t know,’ he went on, spreading out the verses on his knee, and looking at them with one eye; ‘I seem to see some meaning in them, after all. “—said I could not swim—” you can’t swim, can you?’ he added, turning to the Knave.

The Knave shook his head sadly. ‘Do I look like it?’ he said. (Which he certainly did not, being made entirely of cardboard.)

‘All right, so far,’ said the King, and he went on muttering over the verses to himself: ‘“We know it to be true—” that’s the jury, of course—“I gave her one, they gave him two—” why, that must be what he did with the tarts, you know—’

‘But, it goes on “they all returned from him to you,”’ said Alice.

‘Why, there they are!’ said the King triumphantly, pointing to the tarts on the table. ‘Nothing can be clearer than that. Then again—“before she had this fit—” you never had fits, my dear, I think?’ he said to the Queen.

‘Never!’ said the Queen furiously, throwing an inkstand at the Lizard as she spoke. (The unfortunate little Bill had left off writing on his slate with one finger, as he found it made no mark; but he now hastily began again, using the ink, that was trickling down his face, as long as it lasted.)

‘Then the words don’t fit you,’ said the King, looking round the court with a smile. There was a dead silence.

‘It’s a pun!’ the King added in an offended tone, and everybody laughed, ‘Let the jury consider their verdict,’ the King said, for about the twentieth time that day.

‘No, no!’ said the Queen. ‘Sentence first—verdict afterwards.’

‘Stuff and nonsense!’ said Alice loudly. ‘The idea of having the sentence first!’

‘Hold your tongue!’ said the Queen, turning purple.

‘I won’t!’ said Alice.

‘Off with her head!’ the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody moved.

‘Who cares for you?’ said Alice, (she had grown to her full size by this time.) ‘You’re nothing but a pack of cards!’

At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon her: she gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face.

‘Wake up, Alice dear!’ said her sister; ‘Why, what a long sleep you’ve had!’

‘Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!’ said Alice, and she told her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about; and when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, ‘It was a curious dream, dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea; it’s getting late.’ So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.

But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream:—

First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers—she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that would always get into her eyes—and still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive with the strange creatures of her little sister’s dream.

The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by—the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool—she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution—once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess’s knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it—once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard’s slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle.

So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality—the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds—the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen’s shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy—and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all the other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard—while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle’s heavy sobs.

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

             THE END

[fushigi-no-kuni-no-alice]

Chapter 12: Alice’s Evidence

“Here!” cried Alice, quite forgetting in the flurry of the moment how large she had grown in the last few minutes, and she jumped up in such a hurry that she tipped over the jury-box with the edge of her skirt, upsetting all the jurymen on to the heads of the crowd below, and there they lay sprawling about, reminding her very much of a globe of goldfish she had accidentally upset the week before.

“Oh, I beg your pardon!” she exclaimed in a tone of great dismay, and began picking them up again as quickly as she could, for the accident of the goldfish kept running in her head, and she had a vague sort of idea that they must be collected at once and put back into the jury-box, or they would die.

“The trial cannot proceed,” said the King in a very grave voice, “until all the jurymen are back in their proper places—all,” he repeated with great emphasis, looking hard at Alice as he said so.

Alice looked at the jury-box, and saw that, in her haste, she had put the Lizard in head downwards, and the poor little thing was waving its tail about in a melancholy way, being quite unable to move. She soon got it out again, and put it right; “not that it signifies much,” she said to herself; “I should think it would be quite as much use in the trial one way up as the other.”

As soon as the jury had a little recovered from the shock of being upset, and their slates and pencils had been found and handed back to them, they set to work very diligently to write out a history of the accident, all except the Lizard, who seemed too much overcome to do anything but sit with its mouth open, gazing up into the roof of the court.

“What do you know about this business?” the King said to Alice.

“Nothing,” said Alice.

“Nothing whatever?” persisted the King.

“Nothing whatever,” said Alice.

“That’s very important,” the King said, turning to the jury. They were just beginning to write this down on their slates, when the White Rabbit interrupted: “Unimportant, your Majesty means, of course,” he said in a very respectful tone, but frowning and making faces at him as he spoke.

“Unimportant, of course, I meant,” the King hastily said, and went on to himself in an undertone,

“important—unimportant—unimportant—important—” as if he were trying which word sounded best.

Some of the jury wrote it down “important,” and some “unimportant.” Alice could see this, as she was near enough to look over their slates; “but it doesn’t matter a bit,” she thought to herself.

At this moment the King, who had been for some time busily writing in his note-book, cackled out “Silence!” and read out from his book, “Rule Forty-two. All persons more than a mile high to leave the court.”

Everybody looked at Alice.

“I’m not a mile high,” said Alice.

“You are,” said the King.

“Nearly two miles high,” added the Queen.

“Well, I shan’t go, at any rate,” said Alice: “besides, that’s not a regular rule: you invented it just now.”

“It’s the oldest rule in the book,” said the King.

“Then it ought to be Number One,” said Alice.

The King turned pale, and shut his note-book hastily. “Consider your verdict,” he said to the jury, in a low, trembling voice.

“There’s more evidence to come yet, please your Majesty,” said the White Rabbit, jumping up in a great hurry; “this paper has just been picked up.”

“What’s in it?” said the Queen.

“I haven’t opened it yet,” said the White Rabbit, “but it seems to be a letter, written by the prisoner to—to somebody.”

“It must have been that,” said the King, “unless it was written to nobody, which isn’t usual, you know.”

“Who is it directed to?” said one of the jurymen.

“It isn’t directed at all,” said the White Rabbit; “in fact, there’s nothing written on the outside.” He unfolded the paper as he spoke, and added “It isn’t a letter, after all: it’s a set of verses.”

“Are they in the prisoner’s handwriting?” asked another of the jurymen.

“No, they’re not,” said the White Rabbit, “and that’s the queerest thing about it.” (The jury all looked puzzled.)

“He must have imitated somebody else’s hand,” said the King. (The jury all brightened up again.)

“Please your Majesty,” said the Knave, “I didn’t write it, and they can’t prove I did: there’s no name signed at the end.”

“If you didn’t sign it,” said the King, “that only makes the matter worse. You must have meant some mischief, or else you’d have signed your name like an honest man.”

There was a general clapping of hands at this: it was the first really clever thing the King had said that day.

“That proves his guilt, of course,” said the Queen: “so, off with—”

“It proves nothing of the sort!” said Alice. “Why, you don’t even know what they’re about!”

“Read them,” said the King.

The White Rabbit put on his spectacles. “Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?” he asked.

“Begin at the beginning,” the King said gravely, “and go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

These were the verses the White Rabbit read:—

“They told me you had been to her, And mentioned me to him: She gave me a good character, But said I could not swim.

He sent them word I had not gone (We know it to be true): If she should push the matter on, What would become of you?

I gave her one, they gave him two, You gave us three or more; They all returned from him to you, Though they were mine before.

If I or she should chance to be Involved in this affair, He trusts to you to set them free, Exactly as we were.

My notion was that you had been (Before she had this fit) An obstacle that came between Him, and ourselves, and it.

Don’t let him know she liked them best, For this must ever be A secret, kept from all the rest, Between yourself and me.”

“That’s the most important piece of evidence we’ve heard yet,” said the King, rubbing his hands; “so now let the jury—”

“If any one of them can explain it,” said Alice, (she had grown so large in the last few minutes that she wasn’t a bit afraid of interrupting him,) “I’ll give him sixpence. I don’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it.”

The jury all wrote down on their slates, “She doesn’t believe there’s an atom of meaning in it,” but none of them attempted to explain the paper.

“If there’s no meaning in it,” said the King, “that saves a world of trouble, you know, as we needn’t try to find any. And yet I don’t know,” he went on, spreading out the verses on his knee, and looking at them with one eye; “I seem to see some meaning in them, after all. “—said I could not swim—” you can’t swim, can you?” he added, turning to the Knave.

The Knave shook his head sadly. “Do I look like it?” he said. (Which he certainly did not, being made entirely of cardboard.)

“All right, so far,” said the King, and he went on muttering over the verses to himself: “‘We know it to be true—’ that’s the jury, of course—‘I gave her one, they gave him two—’ why, that must be what he did with the tarts, you know—”

“But, it goes on ‘they all returned from him to you,’” said Alice.

“Why, there they are!” said the King triumphantly, pointing to the tarts on the table. “Nothing can be clearer than that. Then again—‘before she had this fit—’ you never had fits, my dear, I think?” he said to the Queen.

“Never!” said the Queen furiously, throwing an inkstand at the Lizard as she spoke. (The unfortunate little Bill had left off writing on his slate with one finger, as he found it made no mark; but he now hastily began again, using the ink, that was trickling down his face, as long as it lasted.)

“Then the words don’t fit you,” said the King, looking round the court with a smile. There was a dead silence.

“It’s a pun!” the King added in an offended tone, and everybody laughed, “Let the jury consider their verdict,” the King said, for about the twentieth time that day.

“No, no!” said the Queen. “Sentence first—verdict afterwards.”

“Stuff and nonsense!” said Alice loudly. “The idea of having the sentence first!”

“Hold your tongue!” said the Queen, turning purple.

“I won’t!” said Alice.

“Off with her head!” the Queen shouted at the top of her voice. Nobody moved.

“Who cares for you?” said Alice, (she had grown to her full size by this time.) “You’re nothing but a pack of cards!”

At this the whole pack rose up into the air, and came flying down upon her: she gave a little scream, half of fright and half of anger, and tried to beat them off, and found herself lying on the bank, with her head in the lap of her sister, who was gently brushing away some dead leaves that had fluttered down from the trees upon her face.

“Wake up, Alice dear!” said her sister; “Why, what a long sleep you’ve had!”

“Oh, I’ve had such a curious dream!” said Alice, and she told her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about; and when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, “It was a curious dream, dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea; it’s getting late.” So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.

____________

But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream:—

First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers—she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that would always get into her eyes—and still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive with the strange creatures of her little sister’s dream.

The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by—the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool—she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution—once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess’s knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it—once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard’s slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle.

So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality—the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds—the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep-bells, and the Queen’s shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy—and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all the other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard—while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle’s heavy sobs.

Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.

THE END

[cksiren]

Truly, Madly, Deeply - Chapter 1

Hey! So this was written wayyy back in, like, 2012 I think. I first published it here as CaptainKellic, but it was taken down (long story) a few years ago. Anyways, it’s back again. If you read it back then, thanks so much - you were a really big inspiration. If you haven’t read it yet - well, thank you for your interest, and I hope you enjoy!  “Fuentes and Quinn.” That's it. That is exactly how all of this started, in the middle of their senior year. A simple fragment of a sentence. Three words, two of which are not even found in the English dictionary. However, those three words absolutely and maybe accidentally changed the lives of two boys; and had a huge impact on the ones around them. 

Vic groaned inwardly when he first heard whom he had been paired with. He shot a nervous glance up at Kellin, whose top lip twitched with clear displeasure. One of his friends wearing a varsity jacket chuckled at him, warranting the toss of a mechanical pencil in his direction.

"Shut up", he heard Kellin mutter as his buddies all elbowed him, picking on their friend for being paired with the skinny, Mexican loser that never really said much. Kellin was a LOT more popular than Vic was. He had been since as long as Vic could remember. They had gone to school together since elementary.

Sighing, Vic organized a few of his papers, figuring that Kellin was going to have to come and talk to him if he wanted to get this stupid lab done, because Vic wasn't moving. The clock ticked away though and other groups were getting started, so Vic began getting the materials they would need for the assigned experiment. He was not going to try to get Kellin's help if the popular boy wasn't going to do anything. Vic wanted to 'fly under the radar' as much as possible, not wanting to attract attention to himself.

The assignment was hard with only one person though, and salvation came in the form of a man with a degree and a snappy attitude."Kellin, why aren't you doing anything? I know your friends are simply 'fabulous', but really, get your butt in gear." Their teacher jerked his head towards Vic, not waiting for some sarcastic reply from Kellin who shrugged and sauntered his way over to where Vic was standing. A hot plate situated in front of him with some sort of solution on it that Kellin wouldn't know anything about.

"What are you like, doing?" he asked half-heartedly and without even looking at the lab set-up.

Vic shot him an exasperated glance before answering his question. "The hotter the solution solvent gets, the more solute will dissolve in it. That's why we're boiling it until all of this powdery stuff is dissolved."

"I don't speak Chemistry, sorry," said Kellin, pulling up a chair.

"Well we'd be a lot further along if I didn't have to set this fucking thing up myself, then you could have gone and done nothing since once I get this dissolved it's mostly just writing down the actual data...", Vic muttered quietly.

"Gee, you're pleasant," teased Kellin.

Vic did not justify his words with a response, just dumped a little more of the powder that they had to dissolve into the mix. Chemistry with Kellin was like physical torture to Vic. He was so ridiculously popular and so ridiculously good looking that everyone adored him when there was utterly nothing special about him whatsoever. Nothing that made him stand out; except for his looks and asshole-ish personality.

"So like, what do we have to write down for data?"

Vic considered explaining the whole lab to him, but he really could not be bothered today and instead pushed the paper containing the printed directions towards his partner. Kellin's eyes scanned over the text for only a few minutes. Vic thought that maybe he was actually trying to understand it and he gave him credit for that, but the face he made as he pushed the paper away told him he was going to have to explain it anyways.

"All right... You should have the lab part of this done by now," said Mr. Sheehan in what felt like no time at all, which was something Vic was dreading since the lab had been assigned. "Spend the rest of the class putting this all away, tomorrow you can do the written part."

Vic looked down at his work and bit his lip, nerves stirring up inside him. "We aren't even close to being done," he said quietly.

Around him, other groups that had started in on clean up were clogging the sinks and counter tops with beakers and hot plates that made frequent, loud clanking noises.

"The fuck do we do then?" Asked Kellin, picking at a hangnail.

It was obvious he honestly did not care what happened, or about his grade and for a moment Vic wondered if he would be able to just finish it himself after school; until their teacher spoke again.

"Vic, Kellin, if you can you should stay after today to figure that out."

"I can't", Kellin spoke up. "I have...things to do," he said.

"Too bad,” said their teacher without a second thought.

Kellin frowned and crossed his arms. Chemistry was their last class of the day. There wasn't even the opportunity to skip a class; no, this came out of their personal time. The shame was that Vic should not have been required to stay after seeing the whole situation was Kellin's fault.

The bell rang a little while after as Vic and Kellin kept working. Well, mostly Vic. Kellin did not really seem to be able to sit still until after everyone had left the room, including their teacher. Then he finally sat down and looked into whatever it was that Vic was doing.

The Hispanic teenager put in the last of the powder, stirring it in as much as he could as Kellin watched, his blue eyes sparkling. He didn't say anything until Vic pulled out his phone and unlocked it.

"Who're you texting?" he asked curiously, a little smirk on his face.

Vic had absolutely no idea why Kellin would care except to make fun of him, so a part of him did not want to answer the random question.

"My mom and my brother," he answered bluntly.

"Aw, you're a momma's boy!" Kellin snickered.

"No, she just likes to know that I haven't been hit by a car or something."

Vic was getting impatient with him now. "Why'd you even stay? You're not helping; you can just go if you want."

"Can't cause Sheehan will kill me, and I am so helping, just think how bored you'd be without me here," said Kellin, sticking his tongue out.

Vic rolled his eyes and checked the directions to see which step was next, wishing that Mr. Sheehan might come back so that Kellin could bug him instead.

"At least I give you something pretty to look at, right?" Kellin winked.

"Sorry, I'm not gay, but if you are, that's cool,” said Vic.

He turned away, knowing that that might earn him a trip into a dumpster or something. Vic was a smart-ass, that's why he kept his mouth shut most of the time. Bullying had not been too much of a problem in his life, and he did not need it to start to be one now that he was half way through his last year of high school. When he turned around though, Kellin was just staring at him, no trace of a smile or a laugh on his face.

"You think I'm gay?" he asked.

It wasn't sarcastic; it was a serious question as if Kellin was actually interested in Vic's answer. It was as if he had totally dismissed the fact that Vic was trying to find a way to insult him. Vic looked at him, his eyes wide, unsure of what to say.

"Uh, well, I mean..." he started awkwardly. "I guess that would be something for you to find out.”

Kellin smiled at him, resting his chin on his hand, "Aww, I was almost expecting another wise-ass response.”

"If you're that offended I could still come up with one," said Vic, turning off the burner and swishing around whatever it was he was mixing to examine the different colors it was starting to turn. He wrote something down in his lab notebook, wishing Kellin would say something to kill the awkward silence.

Kellin's mouth did not open to speak though; he was just staring off into space for a moment.

"Find out myself?" he said quietly, standing up and stepping towards the window.

Vic looked up to watch him move, starting to feel a little in awe of the boy. Maybe, just maybe there was a weird side to Kellin or at least, more to him than he actually let on.

"Hmm."

Vic frowned at him, not sure of what to say. "Well... uh...that's how it's... supposed to work I guess.”

"Is that how you find out you're straight?" he asked, staring up at the sky.

The sun was hitting his eyes just right, practically making them light up, and Vic was feeling the anxiety that came with questions about sexuality that he was constantly asking himself.

"Don't you have like, four hookups a minute and three thousand ex-girlfriends or something?" asked Vic, turning back to the lab.

"Doesn't mean anything," said Kellin, turning towards Vic.

Suddenly and without warning, he stood next to Vic, watching his hands at work. He handed him something he had begun to reach for, maybe making an attempt to be helpful. Vic didn’t really know or care. He couldn’t actually remember much from that part because of what happened next

Kellin stared at him, straight into his eyes, practically right into his soul.

Vic stared back, his face nearly expressionless.

"You've had girlfriends in the past too, and you're not moving away. Maybe you don't actually know?"

Vic bit his lip. Kellin had struck a nerve. His eyes still stared back at him, and Vic wasn't sure of what to do now accept curse himself for being born so goddamn awkward and shy and bad with words.

Kellin smirked a little and placed a hand on Vic's shoulder, trailing down to his chest and gripping his shirt.

Fear seeped into Vic's stomach as he wondered if Kellin was actually doing what he thought he was doing. Just as he felt the pull of Kellin's hand on his shirt, however, the door of the classroom opened and in popped Mr. Sheehan, his face buried in papers he'd gone to retrieve.

"Almost done, boys?" he asked.

"Y-yeah, I think I gotta go though", said Kellin.

The boy who was normally so confident and cool, practically fled from the classroom, leaving Vic to just stand there, barely able to finish the lab in his own confused state.

[mell-bell]

Chapter 2: Wondertrev Modern Ice Cream Shop AU

who knew all it would take was some ice cream (to bring you into my life)

Diana x Steve 

Part 1

AO3

Words: 1477      

Series Summary: Diana, a wrongful convictions attorney living alone in a big city, finds a small hidden ice cream shop one day. Little does she know that this ice cream shop will become her home and the man who owns it the most important person in her life.

Chapter: 2/10

Author’s notes: Once again I wrote this instead of sleeping. As I’m writing this it’s currently 4 am. I think there’s gonna be about 10 chapters but we’ll see. I haven’t planned the whole thing out yet. Anyways hope you enjoy!

Diana returned to Steve’s ice cream shop four times that week. And each time Steve greeted her with a smile and a different flavor of ice cream or sometimes even a new experimental flavor milkshake.

Steve soon learned what Diana liked and what she didn’t. When she loved something he would hear her grumbling about a brain freeze and look over to see her rubbing her forehead with a slight pout. She would never say when she disliked something, but he could always tell by the way her nose scrunched up every time she took a bite.

In an unspoken agreement, Diana always remained in Steve’s shop after hours. She would show up after she got off work and would set up camp, with her paperwork, at the same table each time.

Steve would always leave her to her own devices and made sure never to disturb her when she seemed to be deep in thought. He began to notice certain tells on how she was feeling. When she was relaxed she’d prop her legs up on the chair adjacent, her face calm, her hand lazily writing across her paper. When she was stressed she would stay hunched over the table scribbling away frantically, her brows furrowed, and a slight frown pulling at the corner of her mouth.

Out of habit, Steve would typically turn on some soft music as he cleaned up for the night and would often end up dancing around with the mop he was using. Diana would watch him with a small smile, her head snapping back when he turned her way.

After cleaning he would settle in a chair on the opposite side of the shop with a book. And when Diana got up to leave, he would always walk her to the door and bid her farewell with a wish to see her the next day.

After two weeks of their normal routine, Steve began sitting at her table while she worked, instead of across the shop.

They began to share things; thoughts, memories, stories. Though she couldn’t share all the details of her cases, she would often share as much as she could with him. She’d talk about how difficult it was to help convicted criminals when she was the only one that had faith in their innocence. When he saw her mind going too deep within itself he would distract her by telling her funny stories or pulling her up and dancing her around the shop until she smiled.

A month after meeting, Diana walked into Steve’s shop to find….not Steve standing behind the counter.

Diana froze in the doorway her mouth dropping open.

“Hello, Miss! How are you this fine day? Can I offer you some ice cream?”

When Diana’s mouth finally caught up to her fumbling brain she sputtered, “Where is Steve?”

“He’s not here today.”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay, Miss? You look lost.”

“No. I am fine. Thank you. Have a good day.” And she left, the man looking after her in confusion.

Steve rushed back to his ice cream shop in a hurry. He knew Diana usually stopped by late in the day and he was worried he had missed her.

When he finally arrived back at his shop, it was very late. There were still a few customers lingering inside. Sameer was standing behind the counter flirting with some women. But there was no sign of Diana.

“Hey, boss! Some woman came in looking for ya. Told her you weren’t here today and she all but ran out.”

“What? She left?”

“Yeah, poor misses looked lost. Maybe she’ll come back!”

Steve looked out the store window, “I hope so.”

Diana showed up two days later. She peeked through the window looking for Steve before stepping inside.

“Diana!”

She turned with a smile, “Steve!”

“You’re back! Well go sit down at your seat and I’ll bring you some ice cream.”

Diana finished up her work fairly quickly that night.

Steve sat lounging, half asleep, in the seat across from her.

“I am done for the night. I should g-“

Steve startled awake, “No! Um… I mean. Why don’t I show you how I make the milkshakes.”

Diana looked at him questioningly before smiling and nodding eagerly.

Little to say making milkshakes did not go so well.

“Alright hold this. And then when you’re ready you are gonna push this.”

Diana pointed at the button on the blender, “This one?”

Steve nodded and Diana pressed it, “No, wait not now!” But it was too late.

The blender sped to life, the ingredients shooting out and splashing all over them. Steve stepped forward trying to turn it off but he slipped. Reaching out he grabbed onto Diana, accidentally dragging her to the ground with him. They both slammed onto the floor, the milkshake shooting over their heads and falling down onto them like rain. Diana began to laugh as she laid back and waved her arms up and down, “Look, Steve, I am making a milkshake angel!”

Steve looked over at her memorizing the joy on her face before lying down next to her to make his own milkshake angel.

After a few minutes of waving their arms up and down, Diana sat up looking down at her creation before giving Steve a smile that rivaled the sun.

As Steve pulled himself up, the machine above them gave a sputtering sound and he reached over yanking the plug out of the wall. He stumbled to his feet grabbing Diana’s hands in his and pulling her up all in one sweep.

The room was silent except for the sound of dripping as the milkshake fell off them and onto the floor.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.”

Diana smiled, the ice cream dripping down her face. Steve reached over and brushed some of it off her forehead.

“I can’t let you leave like this. I live upstairs. Come up to my place and I’ll get you change of clothes.” He said offering his hand.

“Alright.” She said grabbing his hand.

Steve opened the door to his apartment praying that it was clean. Not to say he was messy, but he wasn’t exactly the cleanliest person in the world.

Diana stopped short of entering his apartment.

“Diana?”

She looked down at her dirty clothes, “I do not want to get milkshake all over your floor.”

Steve chuckled lightly, “Diana, it’s fine come on.” He said holding out his hand once more.

Diana hesitantly crossed over into his apartment and followed Steve into his room.

Pulling out two towels, Steve handed one to Diana as he ran the other over his shirt. With a sigh, he gave up and just ripped the shirt over his head.

Diana just stood there calmly staring at him.

“I- oh sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize. I have seen naked men before.”

“You have-“ Steve coughed, “Yeah yeah right, um here.” He pulled a shirt and pants out of his drawer and handed them to her.

“The bathroom is the second door on the right.”

A few hours later found Diana and Steve on his couch telling each other about their families.

Steve told her about his parents. He spoke of how he had lost them so many years ago. He and his older sister had taken to raising their young sister until she was of age. Both his sisters were such a huge part of his life and he saw them every single holiday and talked to them at least once a week.

Diana told him about how she had left her family to move here. How so many years ago a man came to their house begging her mother for legal help, but she hadn’t believed him. But Diana had. So she left. She did what she believed to be right. She became the voice for so many wrongfully convicted men and women. She had faith in people where her mother had not. Though she missed her mother and sisters, she knew she was doing the right thing. And she knew they were proud of her.

After hours of talking, Diana fell asleep on his couch, Steve followed soon after settling onto the floor next to the couch.

The next morning came quickly and Diana sat up not remembering where she was until she caught sight of Steve lying uncomfortably on the ground.

Glancing at the clock, Diana shot off the couch, accidentally running into Steve, who sat up quickly whacking his head into the coffee table with a groan.

“Diana?”

“I am late for work. I need to go.”

Steve scrambled to his feet, “Wait!” Diana froze in grabbing her belongings.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

“Dinner?”

Steve nodded.

“Yes.”

Steve grinned, “I will see you tonight. Have a great day Diana.”

“As should you, Steve. Goodbye.”

Part 3

[yg-got7scenarios]

7 Faces of Life (An iKON AU Series) – Prologue

Inspired by this prompt from @writing-prompt-s

Characters:  iKON members (Kim Jinhwan, Song Yunhyeong, Kim Jiwon (Bobby), Kim Hanbin (BI), Kim Donghyuk, Goo Junhoe, Jung Chanwoo x Death/You (Reader, OC)

Genre:  Supernatural!AU, Afterlife!AU, Death!OC, Mostly fluff, Bit of Angst and Smut on selected chapters

Length: 2,688 words

A/N:  Hello every one!  Me again! So this is the new series that I have been wanting to start since last year but didn’t have the time to actually begin writing.  I stumbled upon this prompt while browsing through good AU plots/prompts and I find it really unique and since I have wanted to write an AU series for my sons for long, I guess this would be a great start!  The series will be generally fluff and comedy; though some may have some kick-ass smut and angst in it, it really depends :)  So, here it goes, I would appreciate any feedback and thoughts, though I will not be expecting anything, as always :))

This is my very first supernatural AU so please be nice hahaha!

You are Death, and you’ve accidentally taken someone’s life before her time.  In order to hide your mistake, you decided to live in the person’s place until the day she was supposed to die.

You are Death, who knows nothing about living, where your whole life is solely dedicated to plan people’s death, take their lives away, without any emotional attachment or feelings at all.  You’ve seen people get killed or die in a million ways, but never you have interacted with them, or understand what a human being truly feels.

You are Death, who will be forced to learn how living like a human is through 7 different boys, who will teach you how to feel what life really is, who will open up your mind and heart and make you realize that there is more to your life than watching people die.

In your journey of living, you have never expected that the different experiences with these seven boys will make you question your own identity and purpose in this world.  Knowing that the body of the person you’ve owned to cover your mistake will leave Earth soon; you are not sure if you going back to how you used to be is still something that you wanted to continue being.

“Where am I going…”  The young boy trembled in front of you and you just scanned him with a blank face, as usual.  He is the 5th person whom you’ve taken today and you are already stressed.  Why do humans always ask where they would go? Do they not have an idea when they were living on earth?  You asked yourself these questions for the 5th time today and the sun just shone in this country where you’re going to take this boy from.

“Up.  Aren’t you the good kid in town who always give the young kids food on the streets using your own money?  So suit it, good boy.”  You handed him a piece of paper which the boy took mindlessly; and just stared at it.

“What is this?”

“That is your pass to heaven, don’t you want it?” You are about to take the paper away from him but he pulled back.  You rolled your eyes.

“I-yes, of course… It’s just that… There’s nothing in it.”

“You are a human being so you don’t see what’s in there.  Climb that stairs and give it to the angel at the huge white gate, okay?”  You patted his shoulders and the boy nodded nervously, but followed soon enough.  You sighed when he is finally out of sight at the long, white stairs leading to heaven, which most people wanted to be.

You do not blame them if they wanted to be there, heaven is considered as a good place where good and kind-hearted people lives forever.  On the other hand, hell is a totally different story.  Hell is the place where you take people whose hearts are pure evil, with no trace of goodness at all.  You do not decide on where they would go; it was predetermined by the rulers of heaven and hell; even before you take their lives.  

You floated and flew to your next destination, somewhere in Asia, based on the internal map you have in your brain.

Your next target is a beautiful girl, who just turned 18, but due to some careless mistake that a driver of a public utility bus (which you’ve obviously plotted days ago), her life will be taken away. You slowly wrote her name in the magical paper while whistling to some odd music that you didn’t even recognize while you’re waiting to be in the place where the girl is.

When the girl went up the stairs to heaven, you immediately flew to your next destination where you’ve planned a whole basketball team’s passing in the same country.  You’ve planned on making their van fall off of a cliff, and since there are about 10 of them, mostly going to hell, you need to take a lot of time in creating passes and explaining to them where they’ll go, you just hope that not all of them are useless bodies with no brains.

The cycle just keeps going on and on., you planning on how a person’s life is going to end after you’re given a list from both sides of the afterlife before advancing to where they are, instructing them what to do next or where they should go.

You have been doing this in at least in almost a thousand years; before Demise (the previous Death) retired and just worked at the storage area, making papers, cleaning the stairs to heaven or to hell, or just randomly watching you do your job.  You haven’t committed any mistakes or broke any ground rules in relation to taking people’s lives away and you are often complimented by the afterlife leaders because of your smooth works.

Until one day, everything changes.

Fuck.

Was the only word that you’ve mustered when you stared at the lifeless body of a college student a few inches away from where you’re floating.

It was supposed to be the red-headed girl walking next to her.  What did I do?  They don’t even look the same????

You questioned yourself multiple times. You’ve taken a life of a different person, someone who isn’t destined to die yet ‘til the next week.

“What should I do?”  You asked Demise, and he just shook his head while he’s sitting on top of the huge garbage can holding an old newspaper, reading it through his eyeglasses.

“I don’t know, I never made such mistake before.” He picked his nose and you roll your eyes at him.

“Do not brush it on my face; I know that you haven’t made this mistake before, fine!  But you need to help me out!  I cannot ask anyone else.”  You dropped to your feet on the ground and crouched in front of the girl.  Any minute now, her soul will leave its body.

“Just let it be, just change her name in the records and give a different paper to the guardian.”  Demise suggested and you thought about it.

“You do that I cannot do that, right?”  You placed both of your hands on your waist before shooting a glare towards the older; and he just smirked at you before letting out a huge laugh.  You rolled your eyes for the nth time today.

“Then just let it be and deal with the consequences later.”  He really is useless.  You told yourself and you just shook your head before walking towards his direction.

“You are useless.  You need to help me think of how I’m going to fix this; I don’t need your snippy suggestions.”  You stood up before pacing towards the garbage can where Demise is sitting.

All of a sudden, his eyes widened and he puts on a huge smile on his face, and you tilt your head to the side before crunching your face.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I thought of something.”

“What is it?”

“Hmm… Why don’t you-“  Demise’s face dimmed abruptly and you stared at him, wondering why he stopped talking all of a sudden.

“What?”  You asked and he already pointed at your back and you sighed heavily.  You turn around and you are welcomed by soul of the girl who just left her body as she just stared at her lifeless body on the floor.

“Oh my gosh!!!  Am I dead??? W-what… I…”  She started to cry and you roll your eyes again. These annoying human beings, what is wrong with dying?  Don’t they know that people will die eventually?

The girl is still wailing when you called out for her name and you are growing impatient.

“Yah, stop crying and get your ass here.”  You muttered annoyingly at her and the girl turn on her back at you and just stared at you in shock and fear.

“W-who are you?”  She took a step back as you moved one step forward.

“Why don’t you just walk here and then I’ll tell you!  Yah I am so done with you humans!”

“You’re scaring her, stop shouting.”  Demise appeared at your side and you shoot him a glare.

“What am I supposed to do?  She doesn’t listen.”  You looked at him and the girl looked even more flustered and she began crying again.

“Hey, little girl, I know you are still in shock that you are-uhm-already-ah, dead, but I need to talk to you so that you will be enlightened.”  You explained as you slowly made your way towards her and she doesn’t move and she just stares at you.

“A-aren’t you a human too?”  She asks when you were face to face with her.  Your face fell, right, your body is similar to a human, just like how the others appear in the afterlife.

“I am not human, okay, I just look like, you, or a human, but I am not.”  You stared at girl and she just hugged herself; still confused as ever.

“OK, so, I-I am Death.  I take care of, uhm, planning humans’ death and then guide their souls to their final destinations.”  You trail off and the girl gaped at your side.

“Oh… And this is Demise, the previous, um, Death… I am his successor.”  You explained clearly and the girl just nodded.

“Well, if it is not that obvious yet, you are dead. You died when the man tried to grab your bag then he just took you to this alley then slashed your neck when you refused to-”  

“Death!”  Demise frowned at you when the girl just looked at the ground and began sobbing again. You heaved a sigh of apology and stopped talking, before turning to the soul of the girl.

“So, that’s what happened, can you remember it?”

“Yeah, I do…”  The girl spares a glance at her lifeless body and she nodded, realizing what just happened.

“I-I remember it clearly… but- but I was pushed by the girl next to me…”

“Yeah…”  You trailed off, biting your lower lip before scratching the back of your head.  It was your mistake, your plan didn’t work out well and it was unexpected.  When you are still thinking about what you are going to say, the girl peered up to you and asked you a question.

“S-so, what happens now, should I go to… uhm- where should I go?”  

Shit.

The girl cannot go up yet, she won’t be able to go anywhere, you won’t have the ability to put her back to her old body too, and so what else can you do?

“Well… You are going up…”

“Really?  In heaven? Oh, thank God!  I will be in a happy place and-“

“But, the thing is…”  You cut her off and she stopped before looking at you with curious eyes.

“W-what?  Is there a problem, Death?”  She addressed you by the name and that was the first time that a human ever did that to you.  All of them just address you as “someone” or they didn’t dare mention your name.  You eyed Demise before gaping at the girl.

“Y-You are not supposed to die yet.”  The girl’s eyes widened and you let out a sigh before continuing.

“I didn’t see it coming… The girl who pushed you was the one who was supposed to die, I made a mistake.”  You said and the girl just looked at you with her eyes glowing.

“S-so, what’s going to happen?  Are you going to put me back to life?”

“I- I can’t.  There is no way that I can put someone back to life…  I don’t have the ability to put your soul back to your body. I can only take it away, but not put it back.”  You explained and both of your hands are on your hair and you tugged on it gently, annoyed with the situation.

“S-so, then I should just go up to heaven then, is that right, Death?”

“You aren’t supposed to go there yet...”

“B-but, what am I supposed to do?  Where should I go?  You are going to help me out, right?”  She peers at you again and you bit your lip; trying to come up with a solution to the mess you put her and you put yourself into.

All of a sudden, you’ve remembered that Demise was about to say something before he was interrupted by the soul of the girl leaving its body.

“Demise!” You grabbed his shoulders and he just stared at you in awe.

“What?”

“You were about to say something earlier when we were thinking about how to solve this mistake, what was it?”  You asked him before shaking him slightly; and his eyes widened.

“Oh yeah, I remember.”  He holds your wrists before putting it down.

“Since she cannot go back to her old body…”  He walks towards the lifeless body of the girl and eyed both you and the lady before he goes on.

“And, she won’t be allowed to come in through the gates of heaven because she is not supposed to be dead yet and she needs to be alive to make the life and death cycle accurate…” He walks around the girl’s lifeless body before making  his way front of you and you raised your eyebrow at him before crossing your arms over your chest.

“W-what?”

“You.”

“What do you mean me?”  You scowled at him and he puts on his signature grin.

“You…”  He turns around before pointing at the corpse in front of you.

“You take over that girl’s body and live like a human until the day she is supposed to die.”

What did he just say?

Demise’s words echoed in your head and you cannot seem to think.  You living in this girl’s body until the day she dies?

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  You muttered and Demise grins; and you know that it is not a good sign.

“Since you have the ability to get inside a human’s body, but do not have the power to put a soul back, then that’s gonna be the best idea so far, right?”

“NO.  No I won’t be doing that!  No way-“ You shake your head vigorously and you frowned at him.

“Then just take her up and tell the God above what mistake you’ve done and see what he is about to say.”  He grimaced and you grit your teeth.

Damn it.  Dammit dammit damn it!!!!

You rubbed your face and stared back at the corpse behind Demise.  Are you really living in that girl’s body for a week?

“It shouldn’t be that bad; I can take over your place while you’re gone then I will bring this girl’s soul with me. Until it’s time for her to go to heaven.”  He suggests and smiles widely.  This is hopeless.

“But remember that you need to repay me though, because I am doing you a favor.”  He winked at you and your eyebrows furrow.

“Damn it.”  You cursed under your breath and you paced back and forth.  You are annoyed because Demise is right, that is the last sort.  However, it’s been a while since you took over a human’s body, and you cannot even remember how it was.

It shouldn’t be that bad, right?  Yet you are worried.  You will have all her memory once you are inside her body, so that is not something to be bothered about, right?

“H-Hey…”  The poor soul of the girl suddenly muttered and you looked at her.

“M-my friends… Th-they are on their way here, I can see them!  What are we gonna do?  Death?”  She shouts dreadfully.  Your eyes widened when you saw a group of students running towards your way, or you mean towards the dead body of the girl’s way.

“Death.”  Demise holds your hands before nodding at you.

“D-Demise, but-“

“You don’t have much time.”  The group of students is almost there; and you close your eyes in deep frustration, hoping that you won’t regret this decision anytime soon.

Fuck it.

[mymelodyisme]

I found one of my lost (I still think of it but.. lazy) stories

It's called Pendulum and I might have posted it already ??? Whatever. Here you go! ------- Rain, it pours from the heavens above We stand beneath it, soaking, drenching our visions of long lost dreams Hope is lost for the unborn, for the renewed, heavy hearts, heavy souls create a system within a systematic life There are no more dreams under the one who's dreams come true, the one who alters reality to fit a medium, the one who's hope was lost long ago. Faith, trust, all those that bind the mortality to a human being gone, gone, never to return, never to save us from ourselves and our wicked ideas. Suffering, disaster, death, it all comes to quickly, too quickly, were blindsided, we fall, we fall to our knees in the rain, they speed towards us, right on, straight, they collide, splatter, splat- "Collin! Get up! Breakfast is ready! Collin looks up from his desk, the sun is shining brightly through his turquoise curtains and onto his notebook. He glances at the grandfather clock ticking away a few feet away. He had no idea how long he had been writing, it has seemed like just minutes ago he promised himself he would go to bed after "just one more sentence." He sighed heavily and shook his head standing from his chair. He was all too used to this situation by now. It had been a week since he started writing his novel, and since then, he hadn't had a wink of sleep. He dressed himself in the usual attire, a large grey sweater much too big against his body, black jeans, and green sneakers. He didn't care much for brushing himself off today, after all it was a Friday, and who would even come close enough to care about his rotten breath. He gathered his belongings and quickly made his way downstairs where his mother was slaving away at the kitchen stove. Smoke filled the room from corner to corner. A burnt pile of waffles was stacked neatly on a plate on the table right next to a half empty bottle of maple syrup. His mother wasn't the best cook, but she tried. "I'm sorry about the waffles... It seems I can't cook anything right," she said just as a spark flew into her face from her morning eggs. She jumped back dropping the pan and its contents all over the kitchen floor. Blankly, she stared at it, unmoving for quite a long time before she knelt down and scooped them up with her bare hands. Collin sat at the table quietly, ignoring all this, but very well knowing of its happening, for this too, had been very normal. She joined him shortly, with a bowl of cereal, her replacement meal, and a cup of orange juice, so sour it could shrivel any decent human's tongue. They sat in complete silence, not that that was also unusual. They didn't have the best relationship, no, not since Collin's father died, and his mother became a useless old women who couldn't work. He didn't resent her, but he didn't admire her either, in fact, he know what to make of her at all. "Collin," she broke the silence, "have you gotten any sleep at all lately? You look exhausted. Your eyes have bags, and you shouldn't have any at your age." Collin looked down at the charred remains of his waffles. He had no desire to converse, but he supposed there was no point in not trying. "No," he muttered softly, "I've been busy." His mother frowned, she was aware of the book he had been writing, but wasn't told by Collin himself, so she darned not mutter a word hoping he would willingly share his little secret. Yet, to no avail, today too was not the day he would admit to his mother's hopes. She stared at him silently, the only source of noise came from their soft breaths and slow beating hearts. Finally, she decided she had had enough and would let on that she knew about his novel. "Collin, have you... Taken up any hobbies lately? I remember when I was your age how I used to be pretty into the idea of poetry. I had a journal full of the worst sonnets ever written, but as a kid, I thought they were the entire world." Collin didn't flinch. She pressed on. "I loved the idea of making something all my own simply from my own imagination. However, if I tried to do it now I'm sure it would still be rubbish. Er, have you ever written anything? Anything... I could possibly read?" Collins looked up with a long sigh. He shook his head in disappointment. "If you knew about my novel, you could have just mentioned it. There's no need to play innocent, Claire." Claire frowned and rubbed at her arm guiltily. Her son wasn't the easiest person the get along with, and he sure wasn't one to speak out against much. "I just... Wanted to give you some space.. I was hoping you'd eventually tell me on your own but-" "But nothing." He stood from his chair and clutched his school bag. "I'm going to be late." Without another word he turned and walked away and towards the door. His mother's voice staggered as she said her goodbyes to her teenaged son. Collin said nothing in return, and instead grimly walked to school. "Oh Collin!" A sweet high-pitched voice squealed from right above the school steps. Collin looked up to make the admiring gaze of none other than Kathryn Wallace. Kathryn waited every single day at the top of the steps to greet Collin and to follow him around like a lost duckling, even if they did have most classes together. She was a rather odd one, much more than Collin himself, but she was a sweet girl with a great and vibrant attitude. However, despite her vivacious personality, Collin never payed her much attention, even to her luminous short red hair. He quickly walked up the steps managing a small wave as he passed her by and continued on down the office halls, with Kathryn's footsteps booming directly behind him. "Collin, oh Collin! You look mighty nice today, don't you? Well, despite your hair... And the same sweater you war two days ago... And your eyes... But hey you always manage to look amazing... At least to me." It was no secret that Kathryn had feeling for Collin, she made sure the entire world new. Anything from dates proposals, party invitations, and love letters, she always had a way to let him know she loved him. Unfortunately for her, Collin didn't feel the same, although, he did feel a slight twinge of guilt for having her try so hard when he's clearly not interested. They walked aimlessly, until it was decided that a nearby lunch table rested just a few feet from their first class was just the stop. Kathryn rested her backpack on top of the table and began to dump its contents all over. "Look here, I've got something for you Collin! Well I did at least," she began to dig through her mess, "just where is that darned thing?" Collin sighed and pulled out the only object he'd never expect Kathryn to have. It was a thin golden ring with two small amethyst jewels at its center. "Oh you found it! Do... Do you like it? Dad showed me how to make them, I used some old earrings I didn't like anymore." Collin closely examined the ring, taking in each of its smaller details. He didn't know what to say for a long time, but he quickly recovered his thoughts and smiled ever so gently. "It's beautiful, Kathryn. Thank you." Just as he slipped the ring onto his finger, he caught a glimpse of Kathryn's face burning a passionate red. She lifted the collar of her turtleneck and quickly looked away, forgetting that her ears blush too. Students began to pile into the class shortly after. In went Collin and Kathryn following closely behind. They sat patiently on their seats waiting for the teacher to begin class. Collin liked to watch as the students shuffled into their seats, it was surprisingly calming, and surely entertaining. One student that never failed to catch his eye was a fair skinned student named Haden. Haden was a posh and polished student with an attractiveness so absolute he could make anyone melt. He was student body president and a star athlete. He excelled in all of he finest arts, and was even more incredible academically. One would say he's flawless, and one would be right. To Collin, he was perfect. He was the most perfect human being, and yet... Somehow, he didn't seem as happy as he looked. That intrigued Collin to no end. After all, he liked a good mystery, and Haden was full of them. "Alright class, let us begin," and thus, another school day began, and eventually came to an end. Collin hurried away before Kathryn could find him once again. He didn't hate her, but he didn't love or enjoy her either. She was just there, an admirer, a creeper of sorts. In his novel, there was a character who had a striking resemblance to her. She dies in fifth chapter. If prompted that Collin wrote in Kathryn but with a different name, he would deny all claims, but in truth, it would have been exactly as they said. Each and every character in his novel was based upon a person he knew in real life. Collin would be killed if anyone locally were to read it, which is why he continuously held it close to his person. Becoming slightly paranoid, he dug his fingers into his backpack and felt around for the leathery bind on his book. Nothing. He opened it completely and peered inside with his own eyes. Still nothing. He began to sweat, his heart pulsed, and his fingers twitched. He threw his bag back over his shoulder and looked around frantically. Where- where!? School... I have to- He bit into his lip accidentally and realized that he hadn't had it at all. He had carried it downstairs with his things when he met his mother. He rested it upon the table, and left it there mindlessly, and forgot of its existence due to the lack of sleep. Quickly he began to sprint home. His mother should never read of the things he wrote. It may just be a story, but it was close to a journal, it made him feel safe and secure. Just as he reached the door for his home, a loud crash and the sound of shattering glass took him aback. He carefully made his way inside and found his mother standing in front of a broken wine bottle and it's spilled contents. She looked up at him with unsettled eyes. Clearly she was drunk, and it wasn't a good thing. His mother had begun to drink again when Collin's father died. He realized why she had to stop in the first place, she was... Different... When she was drunk. Violent, crude, and dismal. Claire stepped forward into the mess and laughed slightly. She didn't wince at all when her foot was pierced with the glass shards. Instead, she reached out and slapped her son across the face. "You little brat... I'm no... I'm no fucking drunkard." She made her way to the counter where Collin's leather book was rested. He rubbed his cheek and ran for it, but she took it before he could and opened it up. "'Alice chugged down her tenth bottle of beer and looked around. Without hesitating a moment she ripped off her shirt and drank down another bottle as the men eyed her intensely, some disgusted, others intrigued.' I'm no fucking whore. I'm your... I'm your mother, you should respect me!" She stumbled back into the counter, almost burning her hand at the heated stove. Collin took a step back and tried to reason with her. "That isn't you, it's just a character... She's-" his mother cut him off by tossing a fork to his head. Collin ducked just in time. "She isn't just a character... She's me, she's me you idiot. I know you think this is what I am, but, I'm no whore... And you, you made yourself a hero, but you're nothing but a fucking ant in this fucking world. Well look at this, I got some editing to do." She gripped the top of the page, "let's just get rid of this 'Alice' character," and tore the entire passage from the book. Collin, without hesitating, jumped at her. They struggled for a total of five minutes, clawing at each other, tugging at the book, and almost beating the complete life out of themselves. Collin pressed his palm to her face trying to distract her grip from the book, she tried to rip it apart, but failed miserably. He finally managed to grab her wrists when she flew her head backwards into the nearest cupboard. He squeezed them tightly, forcing her to lose her grip and to shake in desperate pain. Collin jumped down and caught the book just before it hit the floor. He hugged it victoriously, little did he know his mother was hardly done with him yet. And with a large push, he flew backward into the shards of glass, piercing his palm and his back. He winced hard as they went deeply into his skin, his mother laughed heartily at his misery. Collin looked down at his palm, blood rushed from the large cut. He bit his lip and forced himself up hardly. The pain in his back was becoming too much. He stepped back, and when he realized his mother wasn't well enough herself to follow, he ran away and to his room. He sat quietly on his bed and removed the pieces of glass that pierced his skin, some were small while others were fairly large. It took him a while to gather the courage to rip out the one from his palm, but as soon as he did he didn't know what else to do but to lie down and let the pain pass all on its own. Meanwhile, he cursed his mother, his life, and all that there was to be cursed. He closed his eyes, fighting back the knot in his throat and the tears escaping his eyes. Images of pure darkness filed his mind, images of death, of fire, of wonder, and guilt. He didn't know he had fallen asleep. When he awoke, he had no recollection of any of the events after running away... that just seemed to be a blur. Clearly he had taken the glass out, as seen by the large puddle of blood where his hand had been lying. He sat up forgetting he shouldn't put so much pressure on this palm and looked around at the distorted room. It was bright outside, too bright. The room was illuminated a bright blue shade much too bright for his sore eyes. He wondered if he had been asleep all night long. He stood and got himself ready for the day, stopping for a moment at the mirror to notice that he looked more alive than any other day and feeling life was about to change for the better. He didn't stop to eat breakfast that morning, he gathered his things and quickly made his way past his mother and to the door. However, before he cold leave he was halted by a hand resting in his shoulder. "Sweetheart... I'm so sorry... About yesterday. I overreacted... I...," her voiced cracked ever so slightly, Collin noticed, "it's been so hard for me... Since your father died... And you... You're so difficult to care for-" "I'm not difficult Claire, you're just too drunk to notice how easy it is to care for a child who wants nothing to do with your crap." Collin pulled his arm away from her tightening grip and turned around to face her. Her teeth were clenched, and her breath smelled like whiskey. Without a warning, she slapped him across the face twice as hard as before. "Respect your mother, you little ass!" He stumbled back again, but this time he had enough. He gripped his things and pushed her back onto the floor. She hit her head against the refrigerator and fell immediately unconscious. Collin breathed rather hard in that moment. He pressed his sleeve over his mouth and leaned against the wall forgetting yet again of his wound, not that he cared too much for the pain anymore. He forced himself to catch his breath and recompiled himself looking down at his mother. He rubbed gently at his cheek and whispered to himself softly. "You can burn in hell." Then he left, not even bothering to look back. Collin went to school, met Kathryn, reread his own own book, and rested his flailing mind. He sighed and he dreamt and he cursed the entire world, but eventfully that world caught up with him, and it was time to return home to a pathetic mother who drank away her emotions, who didn't care for her child's happiness and just fully neglected him, whose sober moments lasted no more than five minutes at a time, who lost the title of a mother when her husband died two years ago. Collin ran his fingers through his hair and walked on home, feeling slightly guilty about being rude to her, maybe it wasn't completely her fault, his father's death has been hard on him too, he no longer was the A/B average student he once was, nor was he as lively as a child. He stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and turned left, the nearest convenience store would be five minutes away. He could easily pick up some flowers try to make up with her. And so he went. He chose the brightest sets of pink tulips and a set of their favorite candy, a candy they once shared in their happiest times in a cozy blanket with his father. For the first time in a week, Collin genuinely felt nice about his actions. Yes, he wasn't so happy earlier, but now he's moved past that hoping to make amends. He whistled a soft tune walking out of the store and he whistled a soft tune walking all the way home. He continued to whistle softly even when then the flowers fell from his shaking hands as the firemen yelled at him to stay back as the crimson red flames engulfed his house whole. His mother, they said, was still inside... burning in hell.

[beautiful-liu]

Chapter 12 - Remember me - Kryber

Title: Remember me

Pairing: Kryber [Amber Liu x Krystal Jung] Fandom: f(x) Genre: Drama, romance

Summary: The bad ass androgynous girl Amber Josephine Liu with a sex, drugs and rock-‘n-roll attitude whom everybody seemed to fear and admire at the same time, with the flash of a smug smile on her handsome face, and a sigaret or lolly pop in her mouth, depending on her mood. A leather jacket always hugging her shoulders, ripped jeans and a loose tank top that displayed just a tiny bit of her sports bra when she lifted her tattoo-filled arms. Everyone was weak for Amber Liu. Krystal simply didn’t see it. Until that one night she accidentally met her, and met a whole other person than the stories she had been made to believe. Word count: 5200 Rating: T A/N: Excuse the grammar mistakes. This is my first time writing a multi chaptered fic. Hope y'all enjoy the progress!

Read it on: AO3 & asianfanfics

Moodboard: x

Warmth as well as the delicious smell of freshly baked garlic bread and pizza overwhelmed them when they stepped into the restaurant. They hadn't set two steps when one of the waitresses came up to them. Like the other employees she wore a black blouse tugged into black jeans. She had tied a white apron around her waist and had her dark brown hair in a ponytail. She looked friendly, which could not be said of all the employees that worked here. They usually were quite a lot older. "Can I help you?" she asked. Krystal put up a smile and nodded. "I believe there's a reservation for Jung? Some of the group have already arrived, we're the last two," she said. The waitress made an 'Aahh' sound and looked their name up in the reservation book close to the entrace. She looked up and smiled. "Yes, please follow me." Krystal pinched in Amber's hand nervously when they followed the waitress to their table. With every step she took she became more nervous and nervous. It was almost unbearable. It didn't take her a long time to spot her parents. They were seated at the table at the farest end of the restaurant. Her parents had their backs towards them, but Jessica saw them coming and lifted her head a little bit. Her parents seemed to be too busy into their conversation to notice the small sign Jessica had given away and therefor didn't look up. The waitress didn't walk all the way towards the table, but half past the way pointed into the direction, because it simply was the only table occupied. "I will come in a bit to take your order," she entrusted Amber and Krystal before she walked away. Krystal swallowed audibly when they were left alone. Amber pinched in her hand and she took a deep sigh. "Let's just go and be over with it," Krystal muttered. And so they crossed over those last few meters to the table. At first, her parents didn't even have clue that they were there. Only when their bodies cast a shadow over the table and Jessica looked up and smiled, her father and mother turned around, both with a wide grin on their face. Krystal smiled weakly and Amber had her usual cheeky grin on her face. They still held hands. Slowly, the grins were fading from their parents' faces when they noticed who Krystal had brought to the dinner. She was almost unable to look at them, seeing as their smiles had completely faded from their faces now. Jessica still smiled, but even on her face had grown a concerning frown. Did her sister sense there was something wrong? "Amber..." her father eventually spoke. Her father's voice made her realize that she hadn't even introduced Amber yet. Was it really necessary though? Krystal cleared her throat. "Mom, dad, Jess.. I want you to meet my girlfriend, Amber," she said in a little voice. When Krystal finished her sentence, there was silence. The silence endured for a long time. Her parents took their time to let their eyes slide over Amber. Her father's face was shocked and her mother looked even angry. Amber squeezed Krystal's hand to reassure her. Eventually, her father stood up. He brushed the dust off his suit and placed his hands in the pockets of his pants. He straightened his back and looked down upon Amber, who was at least a head smaller than him. Even though Amber had to look up, she kept smiling relaxed. There was no sign that she was nervous at all. Did she have so much faith in her father? At least more than Krystal did. With horror, she looked how her father stepped closer to Amber. Her father cleared his throat. "Listen," he said, in a voice so low and grumbling it could've belonged to a grizzly bear. "If you hurt my daughter in any way, I will make sure that I won't only ruin your life but also those of your family. Do you understand me, Amber?" Amber snorted. "If you think I'd ever hurt Krystal then you have the wrong impression of me. I don't blame you, sir, a lot of people do," she said. Her father grinded his teeth together and frowned deeply. He pointed his finger towards Amber. "I don't like you, let's put that on front. You're too witty for your own good," he hissed. "Yeah well a lot of people say that too," Amber chuckled. She turned towards Mrs. Jung and Jessica, stepped around her father and shook both of their hands. "Nice to meet you, I'm Amber," she said twice. Her mother barely touched her hand and quickly took it back again when Amber was done, but Jessica's face was as bright as the sun. She smiled broadly and shook her hand firmly. "Nice to meet you too, Amber. I'm Jessica," she said. "I agree with my father but from the stories I've heard, I don't think my baby sister could wish for someone better." Amber laughed and nodded thankfully to Jessica. Even Krystal smiled a little at the words of her sister. "Well, I guess we could get started then," growled her father as he sat down again. Krystal nodded and sat down next to him. Amber sat down next to Jessica. Krystal actually didn't feel much like sitting next to her father — who had just threatened to destroy Amber's life a few moments ago — but she didn't want to let Amber sit next to him either. It would be the safest if she sat down next to Jessica. There was another awkward silence, until Jessica waved for one of the waitresses to come over and take the order of their drinks. The waitress was way too happy for the air that hung around the table. They all gave their orders. Mr. Jung ordered beer for himself and white wine for his wife and two daughters. Amber looked at her with a raised eyebrow when that happened, because Krystal tended either not to drink or to drink very strong drinks, but Krystal placed her index finger to her lips to silence her. Amber chuckled. When the waitress turned towards Amber, her girlfriend smiled. "A water for me, please," Amber said. Krystal's father raised his eyebrows. "You don't drink?" he asked sceptically. Amber turned towards him. "I still have to drive your daughter home, sir," Amber said casually. Her father stared at her for a moment, silenced, then huffed. "I don't like it that you're responsible. It makes you harder to hate," he mumbled. Amber laughed and shrugged. Krystal chuckled softly too, causing her father to glance at her warningly. If there was one thing Mr. Jung didn't like, was that he was outsmarted or proved wrong. When the drinks came, the waitress also handed them the menu's, so that they could choose what to pick. The Jungs knew rather soon what they wanted to eat, since they knew the whole card by heart. Amber was still looking when the waitress came back. Even when everyone had already ordered, she was still looking. Eventually she put her menu down and smiled to the employee. "Just give me whatever he has ordered," she said, whilst nodding towards Krystal's father. The waitress nodded and wrote it down, before walking towards the kitchen. Her father was looking at Amber strangely, with his head tilted a little bit to the side. "I don't know what to think of you," he eventually said. Amber laughed. "Well, I do. You should like me, sir," she said. Krystal pressed her lips firmly on each other not to burst out in laughing. Even in front of her parents, who were clearly shocked that she dated a girl — Amber Liu, even — she still joked. And perhaps, it was good she did, because it did ease the air a little bit. Still, that didn't take away that Amber was playing with her life. Her father had pulled up his eyebrows and slowly licked his lips, not taking his eyes off Amber, clearly not liking this attitude of hers. "I can see why my daughter likes you. As a father, it's my job to hate you, no matter how nice you are," he said after a few moments of silence. Amber chuckled again. "I can live with that, sir. As long as Krystal is happy." Krystal rolled her eyes and kicked her from under the table. "Stop being so cheesy!" she warned. Jessica laughed. "I thought you were into that, sis?" she asked. Krystal's cheeks changed to dark pink and she pouted slightly. "Let's not talk about what I do and do not like in front of mom and dad because I don't think I am or ever will be ready for that conversation," she said, whilst rubbing her temples. "Don't worry honey, we'll get home soon enough," said Amber with a wink which caused Krystal's cheeks to turn even darker and Amber and Jessica to high-five each other. Mr and Mrs Jung watched helplessly at the sudden dirty humour. It was the last thing they wanted to hear from their daughters and their daugther's girlfriend. The drinks came. The waitress placed them all neatly in front of them and told them that their food would take a little more preperation before it would be brought it. The five people nodded quietly, each with their own reserved smile on their faces. It would be less awkward for all of them to be here if the dinner was here. Then the painful silence would be interrupted by the clattering for knives and forks on the plates and the smacking of their mouths. But for now, the silence endured, and Amber felt a great need to say something. She wanted to break the silence with a joke or just with some small talk. Joking, that was what she was good at. Not pleasing grumpy old men who were biased already. Amber knew Mr. Jung would never give them their blessing and she guessed Krystal did too. The mother was still too astonished too speak. Luckily Jessica was on their side, but Jessica wasn't the problem. They needed to convince Mr. Jung, and that would be a hard job. "Well, Jess, how's work going?" Krystal eventually said, to break the ice. Jessica smiled at her younger sister, clearly thankful that awkwardness was broken now that they've started a conversation. "Ah just so-and-so. You know, the usual. Doing a lot of vocal exercises. Taking strolls around town, hoping that a some good lyrics that's good enough for a song pops up into your head and sticks," Jessica said. She shrugged, before turning to Amber. "Amber, what do you want to become?" Her girlfriend smiled broadly. Krystal let her head rest upon her hands and gazed at her while started to talk about her ambitions to become a music producer. There appeared a sparkle in her eyes when she talked about her dreams. The same sparkle that had appeared during their first night, when they broke into the university. It was something special, really, something so incredibly beautiful about Amber that Krystal just had a hard time looking away. You'd think, that as her girlfriend, she would see that cute little tingly in her dark eyes more often than other people, but even Krystal had to search for it from time to time. Sometimes, she caught Amber staring at her with the same gaze, with her eyes full of sparkles. Krystal didn't know whether Amber knew she noticed her shining eyes, or that she even was aware that she got a certain happy look in her eyes from time to time, but even if she did, she never called her out on it. Jessica's smile grew wider when she found out that she and Amber had their passion for music in common. Once in a while, Krystal looked at her dad from the corner of her eyes, but his expression looked just as grumpy as before; not betraying his inner feelings. She didn't know whether the fact that Amber wanted to become a music producer was good thing in his eyes. Her father hadn't liked it when Jessica told him that she didn't want to lead Jung Internationals but instead wanted to persue a music career. Would he think of Amber as a misfit? Of someone who couldn't take care of her responsibilities; her father's company when she was older? Krystal bit her lip. The food took longer than expected and the group grew fretful again. The conversation had fallen silent again and this time everyone was silently sipping their drinks. Amber looked nervous, Krystal noticed. Logically, she would've felt nervous around her parents too if they were so disdainful and unaccepting too. Usually she would've made a joke by now, but Amber got that this probably wasn't the right time. Her parents wouldn't appreciate that as much. Her father cleared his throat. "I'm going for a smoke," he announced. "Amber, come with me please." Krystal and Amber exchanged a confused look, but Mr. Jung already stood up from the table, which made Amber obliged to follow. Quickly, the brunette pressed a kiss against Amber's cheek before she left. There was a hint of surprisement on Amber's face when she felt Krystal's lips on her cheek, but she smiled nevertheless. Usually it was the other way around — Amber kissing Krystal's cheek — and it was endearing that Krystal kissed her right in front of her parents. You'd say that by getting their approval, you'd try to act so pure and innocent as possible. But perhaps Krystal had another strategy. Maybe it was better to let them get used to the idea that their daughter is into girls too. That her lips will not be planted on a man's cheek with a 2-day-old scruff but the soft, silky cheek of a woman instead. Perhaps that's even better. Tolerating them is great, but supporting them is even better. Krystal's father and Amber walked off towards the exit of the restaurant. A silence set in between the three other women. For the first time since Amber and she walked in, her mother lifts her head and speaks. "You know your father is not as accepting as I am, Krystal," her mother begins warningly. "You have brought a diffecult task upon herself." Krystal looked up to her mother and smiled weakly. Jessica's eyes uncomfertably switched between her younger sister and her mother. "Excuse me, mother, but I know what I am doing. I have considered this for a while but I wanted you to know who I really am. I want to show you and father that I'm not some perfect doll you made me to be. And if it's worth anything, you haven't shown your support for us too so you're just as bad as dad." Krystal's eyes fell on her father's jacket hanging over the chair. Knowing he always kept his cigarettes in there, she stood up and took the half-empty packet from one of the pockets. "I'm going to bring this to dad. He forgot them," she said coldy, before walking off. She felt her mother's eyes burn in her back when she walked off, but really, Krystal has had enough of her attitude. Acting as if she was the lesser of two evils whilst in fact she disliked her relationship with Amber just as much as her father did. Perhaps her father was even more open-minded, because it was his best friend's daugher his child was dating with. Maybe, for the love for his friend, he'd accept them. Her mother, on the other hand, didn't have such a thing. But it was easier to pretend her father was the person who was hard to convince out of the two instead of admitting you have a problem with your daughter being bisexual. Krystal's face squinted together into an annoyed frown whilst she walked to the entrance of the restaurant. She had seen her father and Amber dissapear through the doors, although she was not quite sure which way they had walked to. She hoped they'd just stand outside the front doors, but when she got outside, all she saw was the half-filled parking lot. With a sigh she looked around, but there was no trail of her father or Amber. She looked at the packet of cigarettes in her hands. If she returned to that table now, she'd get questioned why she hadn't given her father the cigarettes so there was no turning back. With a sigh she started to walk around, hoping to find them. After walking around for a couple of minutes, searching the parking lot and trying to find out where they were, she eventually walked around the corner of the building, hoping to find them there. She didn't and she almost wanted to walk back in - not even caring anymore if her mother asked her why she hadn't delivered the cigarettes - when she heard voices... their voices. Krystal stopped to listen, suddenly well aware how her heels made incredibly much noise when she walked. "-were supposed to find her someone for her!" she heard her father breathe angrily. There was a chuckle.. from Amber. "I have found her someone, now, didn't I?" "I didn't mean it to be YOU!" her father hissed. "Well, maybe you gotta be more specific the next time then," Amber muttered, clearly agitated too. "Look, sir, I can't control who she loves or not." "It's not 'love', it's a fling. Something that belongs to puberty. I would've thought that she would be at least a bit grown up by this age.." Krystal wrapped her hand in front of her mouth not to make a sound. Suddenly her fast breathing seemed very loud and she was scared her father or girlfriend would hear her. Clearly she wasn't supposed to hear this. "Whatever you say, man," Amber reacted annoyedly. "I don't think it is. That's just you trying to convince yourself your precious daughter is straight. She isn't, obviously." "How do you know? You've only known her for a few months! I am her father!" her father barked. "Because I slept with her." There was a silence. Krystal could hear her own heart drum loudly against her ribs. "You filthy little-" Her father didn't finish her sentence. Krystal couldn't see what was happening, but there was some ruffling of clothes, a painful whimper that belonged to Amber. "Look, I wanted to set her up with my friend. He's classy, has a rich taste. Middle-classed, but fancy. But to do that, she'd have to let me get close to her first. She hated me, you know, and I didn't know why, but I had to get her to trust me first. How would I have known that she'd kiss me," Amber said, a little faster, more nervous now. "You could've turned her down! Broken her heart for her own good!" her father said loudly. His voice shook. "Yeah, that wouldn't at all have driven her away from me," Amber answered sarcastically. "Either way. I couldn't because I like-" At that moment, Krystal turned away. She turned away and ran back inside, as fast as she could on her heels. When she came back to the table, tears in her eyes, she threw the cigarettes as casually as she could on the table and muttered that she was going to the bathroom as quickly and as normally as possible, without making her voice shake. She hadn't seen her sister and mother's face but she hoped her lie was convincingly enough for her to get away with it. Jessica might have a harder time believing her, but she hoped that her sister wouldn't ask her about anything whilst they were still in the restaurant. Quickly she hurried off towards the toilets. Luckily no one was there but her and she almost collapsed on the edge of the sink. There was a large mirror in the women's restroom, causing a reflection of herself to plague her. When she looked up, she saw how awful she looked. Of her so-called beauty was nothing left. Her hair had been ruffled by the wind, her eyes looked almost insane. Krystal was pale from herself, but now every little piece of colour had drained from her face, causing her to look like a ghost. Her arms shook while they held up her body. With short, quick inhales she breathed. It felt like her head was filled with cottons. Krystal forced herself to open the tap and splash some water in her face. But she didn't feel like herself doing that, it felt like someone else had posessed her body and made her move. She couldn't think clearly. It reminded her of being drunk. The water made her feel a bit better, but only for a few seconds. She still couldn't concentrate well, but the conversation of her father and Amber kept playing in her head. Fragments, sentences and words repeated again and again until she was almost driven mad. The meaning of the words had barely gotten through to her the first time, but the more she heard them the more she began to understand about what had happened between her father and Amber. Her father had arranged Amber to find her a partner. It took her ten minutes to get out. By then, her father and Amber were already back at the table and the food had been served. Krystal had dried her face and ereased every piece of evidence that she had had a mental breakdown just a few moments ago. She tried to smile sweetly to her family and girlfriend, but she felt the corners of her mouth tug on her muscles when she tried to make it a big smile. It almost hurt. Amber and her father both smiled back and she couldn't help to feel utterly betrayed by both of them. That her father would do something like this behind her back wasn't that surprising. He wanted a good heir and Krystal wouldn't be one until she married a man of importance, despite her amazing grades and work experience. She wouldn't be good enough if she didn't marry someone her father liked. And her father defenitely didn't like Amber. Still, he asked her to help him to get her a man. Perhaps even he saw what a lady's girl Amber was. And perhaps his plan would have worked if Krystal wasn't bisexual. She would've never fallen in love with her, perhaps they'd become friends too. But his plan failed. But Amber... After all this time, after months of being with her, spending almost every day with her, of knowing her through and through, she had never expected Amber to betray her. She would have never thought that Amber would just make a complot with her father. Krystal felt bitter about it. She felt betrayed, hurt that her girlfriend was not the kind of person she pretended to be. Or well... perhaps she was. Krystal knew that this would happen. It had been a lower belly feeling when she had kissed Amber that first time. She knew what the girl was like. A troublemaker. A punk. Someone who doesn't care for others, but only for themself. It was exactly the kind of thing Amber would have done before they started dating. Krystal was foolish to think that she would change for her, or that there actually was someone genuinely sweet under that layer of roughness, dark clothing and tattoos. When they started on their food, Krystal couldn't take more than a few bites of her favourite dish. It tasted like it had cucumbers in it, even though she knew it hadn't. It just felt wrong to eat and act happy now. Whilst Jessica kept her parents entertained, Krystal and Amber quietly ate their dinner. Amber sometimes tried to catch her eye, but Krystal pretended not to see her. She couldn't right now. It made her heart ache. The dinner lasted and lasted until a point where Krystal was able to blurt out that she had heard her father and Amber talk just to get it off her chest. But she kept her mouth shut, praying that every passing second would bring her quickly closer to the end of this dinner. She needed time to think, to decide whether or not she was going to confront Amber. She had already made up her mind about her father. He simply didn't deserve another chance. Because he shaped her to be like him, she therefor couldn't give him another chance. Her father had made her hard, unbreakable, unbowable. She didn't accept this kind of behaviour of him and his chance for his daugther's genuine love was gone. Her father would understand since they were alike after all. But she was still doubting about Amber. Krystal could easily say that she was way more fond of her than her her father and therefor it was harder to make up her mind. Did she just let it slide and pretend nothing has ever happened? It surely would save their relationship. Amber would still be sweet to her; treat her like royalty. They could be happy. Only one more year and Krystal would move out. They wouldn't have to be bothered by her parents anymore. But from the deepest parts of her body she felt that she wouldn't be able to do that. She simply wouldn't be happy knowing that their relationship rested on the fact that Amber had needed to win her trust to set her up with someone else. Her plan had gone wrong and Krystal had fallen for her instead. Back then she had been sure that Amber liked her, but she wasn't so sure now. Was this all just a big game to her? Win over her heart, the girl who hated her the most. Date the most populair girl on campus besides her. It made her feel hollow. "You know, if you weren't hungry you could've told us so. I spend seventy dollars on your dinner alone and you haven't even taken more than a few bites," her father grumbled, when the waitress had finally cleared their table. Krystal had been too deep in thoughts to eat and now too it took her a few moments before she realized her father was talking to her. "I'm sorry.." she muttered. "I am not-" I am not feeling very well... "Never mind," she said softly. There fell a silence in which every pair of eyes was turned to her. Krystal looked down and wished they would look away. Everyone did, except Amber. Perhaps her gaze was the worst. She felt tears well up behind her eyes. "I will get our coats." Amber stood up from the table and walked off, leaving her with her parents and her sister. From the corners of her eyes she saw her walk away. A sigh left her mouth. When she looked at her girlfriend she couldn't help to admire how good she looked and feel a little proud that she was hers. Her hair pushed back, her blouse that spanned tightly around her muscled arms and shoulders... But that thougth immediately backfired at her when she realized Amber wasn't hers at all. In fact, Amber was wasn't hers at all. She showed that by extraditing her to her father this evening. Amber returned to the table with a pile of coats in her arms. She handed them to her father, mother, Jessica and eventually to her. Her father payed the bill with a swipe of his credit card and the group walked back towards the parking lot. "So, Amber, it was nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll see you another time around. Good night, for now. Come on," her father said stiffly, whilst placing a hand on both of his daughter's back and leading them back to his car. Jessica walked along, but as soon Krystal noticed what was happening, she stopped. Her father turned back to look at her, one eyebrow risen. "I'm driving with Amber," she said stubbornly. Her father heard the determination in her voice, sighed and almost rolled his eyes before he gave her a short nod. "I want you home before 12 o'clock," he said. "I'm not a little kid anymore." "12 o'clock, Krystal." Krystal ignored him and walked towards a girlfriend. Amber smiled thankfully to her and wrapped her arm around her waist. For a moment she wanted to let her head rest against her shoulder because she was so worn out, but she kept herself from doing that. Krystal looked once over her shoulder only to see that Jessica was looking back at her with a worried expression. She tried to smile, but it didn't work. It probably would make Jess even more worried about her. They stepped into Amber's car. Amber took her time putting on her seatbelt and starting the car. She even selected a radio station, even though she knew the best from all that there was no good radiostation at this hour. The lights of her father's car shone across the parking lot, making the other cars look almost creepy in it's bright light. Her father almost raced off the terrain. Only now Amber started the motor of her car and slowly backed up out of her parking place, before turning around and following her father to the highway, albeit a little slower. Neither of them said anything, until finally Amber cleared her throat. "Well, that was... intens, wasn't it?" she said a tad uncomfertable. Krystal nodded. "Yeah, it was.." "At least he didn't like, curse to me or something," she chuckled. Amber rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. On her upper arm were the outlines of a bruise that wasn't there before when they went to the restaurant. Krystal knew, because she had seen her change. Her mind immediately made the connection with her father. "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?" Both of the girls looked at each other in surprise. Amber chuckled, Krystal showed only a faint smile. "You first," Amber said. "Your arm, what happened?" she asked. Krystal hated herself for asking because she knew the answer. She'd only hear Amber lie again. And indeed, she did. "I hit myself. Surprising, isn't it? I bumped hard against a corner when I went to get the coats," she replied. "I'm fine though. I can handle a bruise. But... what about you? You seemed so absent during the dinner. You wouldn't even look at me." "I wouldn't look at you because I simply am not okay," she replied.