#as a past amnesiac and obviously changed man | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xiolette · 3 years ago

Text

Reworking Ansem SoD and Xemnas: Fuck Xehanort

Ansem SoD and Xemnas were interesting characters when they were introduced. Remember that? I’m going to recreate that, because their entire characters being reduced to “bleh Xehanort!” pisses me off!

Xehanort’s plan to take over Terra’s body didn’t work out the way he planned.

He was successful, for a bit, until the fight with Aqua. When Terra took control and turned his keyblade on himself, that was the end of Xehanort.

It was also the end of Terra, unfortunately.

Or, at least, Terra as we knew him.

It continues as it originally did: An amnesiac Terranort is taken in by Ansem and the apprentices. The only name he remembers is Xehanort but it feels wrong. He doesn’t like it. He has a feeling that he was someone else, but its the only name he has so they go with it. It always rubs him the wrong way.

Master Xehanort is dead. He is not an influence on Terranort, besides the little remaining memories that cling to him. The important thing here is that this is Terra. Just... an amnesiac, broken down, more susceptible to darkness after All That Terra.

He takes to being an apprentice surprisingly well! After Ansem and the gang were able to set up some accommodations (I hc that Terra has really bad dyslexia) he’s thriving. Terra is smart, he’s just never had the opportunity to show it. Eraqus saw that he struggled with the more academic side of things and redirected him towards physical keyblade handling because that’s obviously where he thrived. (Which is accurate to an extent, but left Terra with the impression that he’s just dumb and shouldn’t bother with anything else)

In the absence of internal shame and embarrassment and with an instructor that’s actually working with him Terranort soaks up everything like a sponge. He’s guided towards the more metaphysical side of things, latent influence from both Terra and Xehanort being keyblade masters and that knowledge running around deep in his subconsciousness.

Ansem’s fascination with his missing memories and Terranort’s own need to figure out who the hell he is spur the experiments that kickstart the whole plot of KH.

Terranort is being led along by the idea that the heart is important somehow that this is the key to everything. He has bits and pieces that point to something and that something becomes an obsession. This obsession in more than encouraged by Ansem who proposes his own theories and is just glad to see his young apprentice excited about something.

Terranort convinces Ansem to use him as a test subject, because it’s his heart and his memories and he doesn’t want anyone else being dragged into this. (ha.)

The experiment was a success.... to a point. Terranort unlocks some memories, but they’re disconnected and scattered and the lack of context leads to the conclusion that whoever he used to be was not a good person. In fact he may have killed a few people.

This is distressing and Terranort immediately withdraws into himself. Ansem, noticing the change, put an end to the experiments because sometimes things are best left in the past.

The added pieces of the puzzle only make Terranort more obsessed. He’s angry and bitter over who he (thinks he) used to be be and is angry and bitter over the perceived abandonment of his mentor. (A small part of his mind tells him that this has happened before.)

Insert: the recruitment of the rest of the apprentices and the KH1 Ansem Reports.

Curiosity and (mostly) good intentions go horribly wrong and everyone ends up jumping off the slippery slope.

It’s so interesting when you read the original Ansem Reports how he comes across as a well-intentioned figure that just slowly lets the darkness eat away at him until he’s convinced that this is all there is and all there will be. Then he, y’know, causes the apocalypse over of it. ❤️

Lead up is different, motivations are different - end result is the same.

Then on the other side in KH2 you have Xemnas who is treated as a villain, yes, but a distinctly tragic one. Remember when his only motivation was to get his heart back? He may not have cared about anyone else also getting their hearts back, but he wanted his.

Remember when he wasn’t trying to turn everyone into a Xehanort clone and never intended to get his own heart and that despite the supposed amnesia he’s still Xehanort and when he didn’t do everything because of Some Grand Evil Plan?

I’m angry

But the desperate (and Nobodies are desperate creatures) want/need for his heart despite only remembering the negative emotions always struck me. Like, one: It’s better to feel bad than to feel nothing. Two: That’s fucked up man.

I do like to believe that Xemnas cared or at least felt a certain kinship to his fellow Nobodies, but also he can’t feel nor does he remember how to fake empathy and still saw everyone as more of a tool than an individual.

Because that’s, y’know, interesting.

Again, everything is pretty much exactly the same as what happens in the main games. Nothing much needs to change there, because, like I said, they were interesting characters when they were introduced.

Post KH2 reformation we get Terranort again! And he feels like shit! (As he deserves.)

I would like for the protagonists to deal with the fact that the Big Grand Evil Villain was Just Some Dude who was a decent person at first but just went overboard. I would also like Terranort and friends to deal with the fact that this was on him. There wasn’t an evil mastermind brainwashing their friend - it was their friend.

Uhhhh more solid parallels between him and Riku where Terra didn’t have anyone to reign him in, but Riku did.

I should mention in this AU Ansem SoD becomes like a weird sort of father figure to Riku that actually gives advice and tries to get him to see his side while Riku is like, “Dude. You killed so many people.” “Fair.”

Evil father figure Riku has mixed feelings about ❤️

The end result isn’t a full redemption arc, because Terranort really can’t get that. He crossed too many lines to have a fully happy ending. He does get reunited with the BBS dudes, though, and they all have to deal with the aftermath. His memories are never fully restored and, yeah, the Terra they knew is effectively dead and there’s some dude who looks like him in his place.

It’s messy!

DDD who? KH3 what? Real Organization XIII? 13 Darknesses??? I don’t know them. That sounds made up.

(DDD is just the Mark of Mastery and Sora AND Riku both dealing with their trauma. Also the discovery of Aqua and Ven who need help like NOW)

(KH3 is just Sora and Co. rescuing Aqua and Ven and Roxas and Namine and just giving everyone a relatively satisfying conclusion. No need for a grand epic battle. Just people picking up pieces and finding ways to move on.)

(That’s it that’s the end of the series goodnight.)

#i didnt proofread this i die like a man #kingdom hearts

40 notes · View notes

drwcn · 5 years ago

Note

I can’t wait for more of your discordance au, I’m a sucker for angsty wangxian! I’m actually really curious about what’s going on with Lan Xichen the whole time he’s gone. Is he recovering for all that time or is there some political plot he needs to take care of? I saw that courtesan Meng Yao tag too which makes me even more intrigued 👀👀👀

Awww you guys >:) Thank you so much for the encouragement.

Unfortunately, Xichen and Huaisang are not a pair. The hidden agenda of this fic is xiyao (lol sorrah), and I know people tend to feel either YAY or NAY about xiyao so I’ve totally separated the wangixan and xiyao part. You can read one without the other and it wouldn’t make much of a difference at all. At best Meng Yao is mentioned in end of the later wangxian parts once or twice.

I love Xiyao because I think it’s full of possibilities. Obviously canon!xiyao is tragic and problematic af, but this is an au, so... I do ...what I...want? Meng Yao in this au is his own worst nightmare - a courtesan, and Zewu-jun is the handsome polite gentlemanly amnesiac he saves.

Below cut are more reasons why Lan Qiren longs for the sweet release of an early qi deviation (arc synopsis of lan xichen & meng yao’s half of the story).

Lan Xichen’s Arc: where politics turned deadly.

Well, just because Wen Ruohan isn’t a thing doesn’t meant the Yin Irons aren’t a thing. Is there political bullshit waiting to happen? Absolutely. Except our protagonists are proactive this time.

For months, both Qinghe and Gusu have been getting reports of strange sightings along their Lanling borders. NMJ and LXC have been investigating, and they suspect that JGS may have had something to do with it. Prior to Lan Xichen’s disappearance, he was getting close to finding out the truth.

What happened was this:

Xue Yang (who will exist solely in other people’s narration) had killed the Changs and taken a piece of the Yin Iron. Upon capture, XXC and SL (both alive and well and doing their own thing) delivered him to the Chief Cultivator, thinking justice has been served. (Lol. no.). Once JGS got his hands on one of those, he began to plan world domination bad things with it and shit started acting fucky right away, eliciting the suspicion and subsequent investigations of the Lans and Nies.

Jin Guangshan does wonder how his secrets are being leaked, but he doesn’t get to find out until the end.

Lan Xichen, on his part, is fairly sure of what’s been causing the appearances of these so called “fierce corpses”. He knows about Lan Yi’s barrier in the Cold Cave, and suspects someone has gotten their hands on a piece of the Yin Iron. Both he and Nie Mingjue suspect Jin Guangshan, and have been quietly collecting proof.

Jin Guangshan, not about to be defeated so easily, sets up a trap and ambushes Lan Xichen during one of his investigations. LXC was in “plain clothes” as part of the investigation, because it’s dumb to go around investigating dressed as the Sect Leader of Gusu Lan, but during the ambush, Lan Xichen loses Liebing and Shuoyue in the process. The only thing he has on him is Shuoyue’s sheath when he is found by Meng Yao.

When Lan Xichen wakes up, he doesn’t remember anything or who he is. He sees a pretty young man who introduces himself as Lianfang. Lan Xichen was wearing blue when he was found, so “Liangfang” calls hims A-Lan.

Meng Yao’s tragic back story that’s actually tragic:

The bullshit - er, the story - as always, starts with Meng Yao getting kicked down the steps at Jinlintai by his Ho™ of a dad Jin Guangshan. In this universe, Jin Guangshan isn’t just a rich powerful Sect Leader, but also the Chief Cultivator. If anything, he has more reason than ever to make sure Meng Yao isn’t around to besmirch his good name (not that he has any good name to bismirch).

Claiming Meng Yao to be a liar, Jin Guangshan ordered his goons to have Meng Yao “taken care of”, but before that could happen, Madam Jin had come out to see what was the commotion. This was Zixuan’s birthday celebration after all, everything had to be perfect.

What she saw certainly enraged her, but her husband was about to kill a boy, possibly his own son, spill blood on their son’s day of birth celebration. Such cosmic bad karma she couldn’t possibly accept. “You don’t have to kill him, you absolute buffoon, just make sure he never comes back here!”

She meant buy his silence with money but Jin Guangshan had a more permanent solution.

Before the day’s out, Meng Yao was sold to a brothel, and was told “that’s where you belong”. Once, perhaps, he had dreamed about gaining the love of his father, but no longer. Now he simply wants his father ruined and dismembered.

But first he has to live.

The madam of the brothel had a keen eye for “good merchandise”, and one good look at young Meng Yao with those big eyes, delicate frame and dimples and she knew she could make big bucks off of him.

(And before anyone asks how old MY is here, the answer is: young. One of the many reasons why I would personally like to volunteer to stab JGS until it looks like he’s been cursed with the Thousand Holes Curse.)

The first couple of years were decidedly grim for MY. He was kept away from customers (mercifully), but he was a brutally trained in the art of dance and music. They kept him fed enough to dance but not too much to “ruin his figure”. His instructors quickly found that the youth was a quick study and got up no matter how many times he was trampled on (literally and metaphorically). It was no secret that life was gruesome, but Meng Yao survived. Meng Yao made his debut. Meng Yao became famous.

The establishment where he made his debut renamed him Lianfang - to collect/gather fragrance - and so from then on, he became Lianfang-gongzi. Soon, his art (and other stuff) caught the eye of an obliging patron who purchased him from the madam.

The patron, by all accounts, was a brute of man who had more appreciation for the liquor in his cup than the arts, but he was a cultivator, wealthy enough, connected to many other cultivator gentry familiues, and most importantly, led a subsidiary clan of the Chief Cultivator. As his prized courtesan and dancer, Meng Yao served at his whim, entertained at his parties and made happy his friends, all of whom were practicing cultivators or at the very least connected to the cultivation realm.

Our evil gremlin would not be our evil gremlin if he didn’t make the best of every situation. Meng Yao quickly discovered that not only was he particularly talented at getting people to divulge information to him, but that men were significantly uninhibited after sex and alcohol. Armed with a sweet face, an eidetic memory, and a hate inside him that longed to see Jin Guangshan severed limp by limp, he began his revenge plot.

(Here, I took inspiration from Nirvana in Fire’s character Princess Xuanji of the fallen Hua kingdom who was sold into servitude but established Hong’xiu’zhao, a spy network of girls/women who either worked as courtesans or secondary spouses of noblemen. Her goal was to create chaos and dissension within the royal court and government, like mites eating away at a large tree from within.)

Meng Yao amassed an enormous amount of intels on gentry families and evidences of the many underhanded conducts of the Chief Cultivator himself. He did this through his own work and through the other women working in his network, all of whom have been wrongfully aggrieved in some way. He promised them that one day he would help them to freedom.

For five years he’s been collecting secrets of gentry families, and had been stirring discord for three, weakening their cohesiveness, and using their growing animosity to weaken Jin Guangshan’s control on his subordinates. Naturally, Meng Yao heard about Xue Yang and the Yin Iron. It was also him who had been drawing attention to it for the other major sects.

Meng Yao doesn’t know Lan Xichen is the Sect Master of Gusu Lan, but he has no interest in hurting a man from nowhere. “You can stay here with me until you are better. After that, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to be on your way.”

Physically Lan Xichen recovered quickly, but when it was clear his memories wouldn’t be coming back, Meng Yao allowed him to stay.

The rest, as they say, is history.

Meng Yao has been Lianfang, been the famed courtesan, for longer than he cares to remember. He’s been had, used, and passed around by so many men that their faces are just blurried sillouettes in his memory. And yet, he’s never felt for a moment that he belonged to any of them, not even his patron, who possessed his contract and could resell him back to a lesser establishment and ruin him in a heartbeat.

But when A-Lan held him in his eyes, warm and dark like a summer’s night, without judgement or expectations, only gentle sweetness and a fond regard, Meng Yao could almost pretend he was just A-Yao, the name whispered reverently by those soft lips. The hand that held his moved to stroke his cheek, almost shy, and Meng Yao realized with a fearful pang that if this man from nowhere with nothing were to ask, Meng Yao could most definitely become his.

The thought scared him more than he was willing to admit.

The message delivered by the pigeon was clear. Meng Yao crumbled the slip of paper in his hand, then set it aflame in the candlelight.

The man who’s been living with him for the past four months, who he knew as A-Lan, who he trusted enough to take to bed, was the Sect Master of Gusu Lan: Lan Huan, Lan Xichen.

Zewu-jun.

Everyone, even a non-cultivator such as himself, has heard of Gusu’s Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen’s young widower, left alone after not even six months of marriage.

But if even he wasn’t married, Lan Xichen could never accept him as he was, no matter now much his personal desire wanted him.

His hands shook. He balled them into fists.

Meng Yao should’ve known... he should’ve known it was too good to be true.

No matter, he told himself. This too, is an opportunity, perhaps the only one I will ever have. I will use it to destroy Jin Guangshan once and for all.

Lan Xichen made his way to the window, and gazed out into the courtyard where A-Yao was reading under the willow tree.

You should go home, a voice inside him said. Go home to relief Wangji of his burden, to release Wuxian from his mourning. Go back to the seat of Sect Master and the responsibilities waiting for you.

One more day, another voice fought back. Just one more day.

He doesn’t leave for another month.

132 notes · View notes

n0irrrr · 5 years ago

Text

e m p t y / 7

shingeki no kyojin | series [various x male!amnesiac!reader] summary: [Name], an amnesiac boy awakes in a unknown place – trying to remember anything makes him have horrible headaches. Who is he? And why he can’t remember his own face? masterlist

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

[Name] took the box, and before leaving he placed a kiss on Beatrice's cheek, which she was crouched so the boy could reach her. She took his head with her hands and kissed his temples, smiling at him and standing once again.

"Be careful on the way to Doctor Jaeger's house, alright?" The woman said, warmly looking at [Name].

"Yes, mom. The bread and I will be safe and sound on our way." [Name] opened the door, and before leaving he said, "see ya, mom!"

[Name] heard her saying see ya too, and went to his way. The day was good— the wind felt nice. It was... peaceful. Even if his ears could hear everything, the sounds fogged, not taking attention to anybody's voice. It was nice, but something deep in his mind told him that something was wrong— something was out of place, but the boy couldn't decide what. Everything seemed normal like everyday— what was wrong? He didn't want to worry Beatrice for the feeling in his gut, but [Name]'s mind was occupied by the same thought. He didn't know what to expect or do, so he shacked his head and returned to the present.

He was going for your normal check ups with Doctor Jaeger. Even if his headaches were less than before, the man had said that he had a case of migraine— a weird problem a kid should have. Nevertheless, thanks to all of his recommendations the pain was bearable. So, Beatrice and him decided to gift him bread and pastries thanks to his huge help, even if he answered with modesty. His recovery wasn't that great, but he managed.

Sadly, not remembering anything made him somehow depressed and upset. He wanted to remember, but both Doctor Jaeger and Beatrice told him it was too dangerous for his health, and honestly, the headaches got worse by just forcing his mind to remember. Beatrice had told him that she would try her best to make new memories he wouldn't forget, so he just accepted it and moved on.

And it was true— after one year in this district he had made bad and good memories. [Name] was curious of his past, but even if he wanted to forget it he couldn't. Even if his headaches were horrible and awful, he sometimes tried to remember when he was alone at night in his room. But sometimes his headaches came out of nowhere— as if his mind forced him to remember...

Finally spotting Jaeger's house, he unconsciously rubbed his forehead as he approached. [Name] liked Dr. Jaeger— he was a nice man and helped him. But sometimes, when the man thought the boy wasn't looking... [Name] could see different eyes that he couldn't decipher. Blinking, [Name] shacked his head, trying to forget his weird thoughts. The boy knocked on the door, letting out a deep breath. Quickly after that it opened, revealing Miss Carla, and when she spotted him, a warm smile took her features.

"[Name]! Come in!" She opened the door and made space so he could come in, "Grisha was waiting for you! Aha! and what do you have here?" She asked, looking at the brown box in the boy's hands.

[Name] walks into the house, "it's croissants. My mom and I talked about a new recipe, and we want you to try it first." He finishes, giving a small smile to her. He handed her the box, which she gladly took.

"That would be perfect for today's meal! I'm excited to try them out, thank you, love!" She said as the woman patted him on the head and headed to her kitchen.

[Name] spotted Grisha sitting on the table writing things in one of his books and greeted him, "Good afternoon, Doctor Jaeger,"

He closed the book and smiled at him, "Good afternoon to you too, [Name]. Sit down with me and we will do the regular, alright?"

[Name] nods, obeying. Placing his hands between his legs, the boy moved his feet in front and back.

"How are the headaches? Any complications?"

"I got a nosebleed this week. I didn't try to remember, but the headache just came." [Name] paused, thinking about his previous thoughts, "It's... weird."

Grisha arched a brow, curiously looking at the boy, "What is?"

The amnesiac boy shifted in his seat, trying to get comfy. "It's like my mind wants me to remember, even if I don't want to. I don't really know how to explain it... Just like the gut feeling you get when something bad is gonna happen..." He mumbles, trying to find the right words. "It's... forcing me? Hmn...”

The doctor doesn’t say anything and just writes on his journal. [Name] can’t exactly see his gaze as the light reflects on his glasses— but he can certainly feel the change of aura the doctor had. It's different.

"Oh!" The boy blinks, "I got some scratches too on my back. I got into a fight the other day."

"Is that so?" The doctor hums, closing his book. "Let's check them then."

The man stands from his seat, heading to [Name]'s back. He commanded the boy turn so he could treat his injuries. The boy obeyed, feeling Dr. Jaeger removing his shirt and showing his bare back. But as just as the man take off his shirt, he suddenly stopped and left the shirt hanging from the shoulders. Weirded out by the silence, [Name] spoke.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, wondering if his injuries were worse than he imagined.

The boy's voice snapped Grisha into reality, it seemed, because the man blinked and hurriedly spoke into a 'trying-to-sound-normal' tone, which [Name] noted clearly. "Nothing at all. It's just that... you don't seem to have any injuries in your back. Are you sure you had them?"

"Well, my shirt was stained with blood when I took it off..." Narrowing his eyes, the boy crossed his arms, trying to think if he had imagined the blood— but obviously that wasn't the case. He did remember it, but now they were suddenly... gone.

Dr. Jaeger doesn't speak at first— he looks deep in thought, but eventually he talks again. "Maybe you imagined it, or someone's blood splashed on your shirt," the man chuckled as he helped [Name] to put on his shirt again, "you know how... violent you can get."

It could be true— his friends had told him how... brutal he turned when he fought the bullies. He was scarier than Mikasa and that was saying something.

"Could be." Was the only thing [Name] said before falling into silence.

The doctor sat down again, talking about another type of herb they could try, but it was hard to get. They were somehow rare, so for Grisha to find someone who sell them or find the plant itself was a challenge.

The boy blinks, "where are they?"

"Hmn? Who, Mikasa and Eren?" As the boy nods, Grisha responds, "they are collecting wood in the usual spot. They left some time ago."

The amnesiac boy had decided to look for them— after all, he always looked forward to helping the Jaeger family with anything they needed, as at least pay all of the help Mr. Jaeger have provided.

As the checkup finished, [Name] said goodbye to the parents, receiving a pat from Grisha and a kiss on the head by Carla.

"We'll tell you later how the croissants are! Or even better, you should join us for lunch!" The joyful woman said as she waved goodbye to the boy,

[Name] was lazy at the thought of go and find his friends— the spot wasn't that far away but still was a good amount of walking. Yawning, the boy was ready to go but he stopped in his tracks as he remembered what time and date was it— the survey corps returned today! Just with the thought the boy smiled, running to try and catch up before they arrived. [Name] always tried to be at the front whenever they returned— he always worried about their well-being. After all, they were the soldiers who saved him.

Running to the gates, he could already hear the amount of whispering saying bad things about them. It was a good thing [Name] didn’t care about them— if not, he would have throwing hands at everybody.

As he arrived, the bell immediately was heard. Frowning a little by the loud sound, the boy tried to be in front of the crowd but got pushed back by the adults. He pouted, annoyed. The little boy couldn’t see thanks to his height, but as he was going to look for a box to stand on, he felt a hand grabbing his own tightly.

Before [Name] could react rather aggressively to the unknown source, the voice he recognized was Eren, stopped him from doing so.

“I was looking for you!” He said, smiling widely at him. Mikasa was besides him as always, waving at the amnesiac boy with a small smile.

“You found me.” [Name] answered with a bland tone as he squeezed his hand. The brunette’s face went crimson as he smiled brightly at the positive reaction he got. It wasn’t a secret [Name]’s attitude was nicer when the survey corps returned or where going to leave, so Eren tried to take some advantage of that.

The three of them looked for some boxes to stand and see their return.

The gates opened, allowing to enter the soldiers on their horses. There was a silence the people fell on, waiting how things turned out.

[Name] was always rooting for them—not caring of what would happen, he supported them. He knew Beatrice wouldn’t be fond of the idea, but when he grew older he would join the military to be one of the survey corps. That was his dream the day he learned about the military, and no one was going to change that.

You shouldn’t be so sure.

Blinking, the boy looked at his sides but no one but Eren and Mikasa were with him. He didn’t recognize the voice neither, and he was sure someone whispered something to him. The brunette was too occupied to notice his reaction, as his attention was somewhere else. Maybe was his imagination? He was already paranoid all day— could be his mind playing games to him.

Shacking his head, [Name]’s gaze went to the soldiers. The looks on the majority of them made him frown— they didn’t look good. The expedition seemed to turn out bad, seeing the number of injured soldiers passing trough. They looked so... grim. His [eye color] eyes shifted to place to place, looking for a certain blond— he wasn't worried he didn't make it back, because he always did return. So when his eyes meet the blue ones, the boy stood on his tip toes as best as he could and waved with his expressionless face as Eren smiled at him too. Seemed the blonde couldn't hold his guilt or shame, seeing his frown and the way he averted their gazes. The brunette's smile fell, the same time [Name] pouted at his reaction.

"No good, uh?" [Name] whispered to himself, frowning. Eren's attention went to him, but soon shifted to the woman who spoke and went to where the commander was, asking about her son whereabouts. [Name] didn't want to be a pessimist, but something in his gut told him this was going to be upsetting— the same feeling that has been with him all day.

And well, it certainly was. 'Moses' was just an arm they could only retrieve— the last remain the mother had of his forever lost son. [Name] cringed at such sight, feeling dirty of watching it. This was horrible: something so... private? so heartbreaking? was for all the world to see. Even more awful with the poor response she got from the so called commander:

"J ust like all the other missions…we achieved nothing at all! My incompetence has done nothing but needlessly send soldiers to their deaths! We haven’t found anything out about them!"

The [hair color] couldn't believe such answer. Was this the same guy he was saved by one year ago? Why was his guilt getting hold of him in front of this poor woman? [Name] frowned, averting his gaze of the scene. He admired them, he really did. The boy wanted to believe in them until the end, but he couldn't deny every return was a mess to see. He could already hear everyone's whispers, and not-so whispers of the people that wanted to be heard by the poor soldiers passing trough.

"Our taxes are basically going to feeding and fattening those things up now." A man in front of them spoke with no hint of empathy in his words, and [Name] instantly knew what was coming for him. He did not try to stop Eren from taking one of his firewood and hit the man on his head before being grabbed and pulled by Mikasa the same instant the man was going to throw a punch at him. As the two children disappeared, [Name] let his tongue out for the man to see, leaving shortly.

"You brat! Get back here!" The man tried to follow them, but as he turned to catch them, they were gone.

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

The ravenette threw Eren against a wall, the wood flying all over the place.

"Mikasa, what the hell?!" The brunette whimpered, looking angrily at the girl.

[Name] doze off, thinking about the gut feeling he has been having all day, along with the whisper he heard not too long ago. His eyes focus on the ground, trying to think and decipher his discomfort.

"Hey," he gets the attention of the siblings, "does any of you have a weird feeling today?"

"Ah? Weird feeling?" Eren raises a brow as he picks the wood, "I don't get it."

"Of course you don't." [Name] blatant stated, unimpressed. Ignoring him his shouting, he turns to Mikasa, "do you?"

"I haven't. Why?"

[Name] tilts his head, crossing his arms, "dunno."

"You don't even know and you treat me like an idiot!" The brunette points at him, frowning and yelling.

"Because you act like one."

"[Name]! We talk about this!!!"

"Enough." The ravenette interjects, "[Name], are you coming for lunch? Mom told me to get you if you wanted to."

He tilted his head, thinking. [Name] was feeling lazy, he just wanted to get home and sleep until the next day. "No thanks. Maybe next time."

Eren raises a eyebrow, suspicious. "Hmn? Where are you going, then?"

"Sleep." [Name] states, yawning.

"But that's the only thing you always do! What about Armin? He must be alone right now."

"Then I should look for him to sleep together."

"You lazy...! I'm going with you then!"

"You can't." Mikasa takes his wrist, "mom is waiting for us and the wood."

The brunette whimpered, holding his jealously of not sleeping besides [Name]. "See you later, then..." The children wave at each other, everyone walking into separate directions.

"Bye bye."

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

[Name] went to look for his friend. Luckily sometimes he could heard his voice and find him, but as the blonde was really quiet these moments were rare. The boy was going to leave his objective, until he found Armin sitting on an alley all alone, reading his book like he always was.

"There you are." [Name] softly spoke, seeing how determined Armin was as he read the text. His friend was passionate about reading and learning.

The blond turns his head to see his quiet friend, instantly smiling brightly at him. [Name] slightly smiles at such nice sight.

"Where you looking for me?" [Name] nods, kneeling besides him.

"I was going to ask you if you want take a nap with me in the woods."

It may seemed weird to ask such thing— but everyone knew [Name] loved sleeping all day. His... activities were lazy and not that energetic, but Armin didn't mind that. He enjoyed his time with him, it was a nice contrast of being with Eren and Mikasa.

"Sure!"

The walk was not that long. The chattering was done most by Armin, talking about the information of the book he had. [Name] nodded and spoke some time, listening to what he got interested on. As the wood appeared in their view, [Name] took Armin's hand and guided him easily. The boy had a favorite spot only his friends knew— it may have appeared like every other place inside the forest, but to him it wasn't.

The two laid on the ground, Armin on his side and opened the book. He wasn't sleepy at all, but as he was quiet —unlike Eren— [Name] didn't mind. He let out a yawn, placing his hands on his belly and closed his eyes, hearing the birds flying over the woods and the wind.

Something blue— the ocean Armin talked about? The same one he thought to see before?

No— the scenery changes: the woods, but not the same inside the walls. This one is different: the same one outside the walls. But there are houses— there's someone. A woman...?

A memory of a book? Wait— it's the journal! Someone is handing it to him? The journal and the hands holding it can only be seen— there's a voice... what does it say?

O̴͎͌̈̄̚u̴̹̖̫̻̙̣̦̖̪̗̠͖͆ĭ̶̱͇̔͠ ̸̳̪͉̙̜̞͆͆̋̏͑͐̉̕͘͝͠f̶̨̥̖̜̼͕͚̹͖̟͂̔̄̓̊͐͆̈́̓̒̕̚̕e̵̦̳̎̍̾̈ͅm̴̡͓͚̘̬͙̬̗̗̌̃̅̀͊́̂̚͘̕͠͝m̸̨̠̝̻̉̑̎͋͂͂͋ ̴̬̜̈̅͗̚͝͝ḥ̴̡̻̜͆̌̈͌̊͛̐͗ͅą̸̛̠̠͉̪͍̮͔͔͕̼̰͂̂̽̈́͐̀͋̏͘ą̷̤̻̜͍̟̺̋̃̀͂̓̌̈́͌̚̚̕t̴̯̻͉̣͙͒̍́̍͜͝ ̶̢̢̰͈̠̗̻̹̗̫̥͋̿̓̈̈͗̀̈́̚ẽ̷̘̤͉͖̬̼͖̾͐̈́̓͑̈́̃́͋̑͑̃d̴͔͕̣͕͚̞.̶̡̊̓̇́ ̵͉̦̘̹͈̪̓̄͋̊̏̓D̵̺̳̱̭͖̥̮̝̙͛͌̂́͋ͅy̷̢̡̟̻̳̦̰̯̬͙̞͋̌g̸̼̀̇͐̄̔̽͛̌̇͂̕͠a̷̧̤̙̠̲̹͕̒̈́̈́̉̃̋͊̾̈̚ ̷̮͖̆̾͆̈́̐̉͛̑̅l̶͙̟̙̘̳̫̬̥̃̈͛̐̉y̶̡̜͍͛̄͌͘ͅṅ̸̮͙̫̖̤͉̤̜͚͔͇̭̍̐͛̆̃̒ä̷̡̼͇̘̖̝͖͖͍͓͎̊̊̊̄͐̂̎̏̕ ̶̥̞̤̋̿̈́͛̈́́ư̶̧̬̟͕̭͈̫̲͖͙͚̽͋̑͜v̷̧̳͓̙̖̯͚̰̠͇̙̊̆̒͛͂̏͘͝͝ ̴̢̟͚̜̱͚̱̤̜̭̃̋̌̏̌̔͝͝͝e̸̡̧̼̙̤̹̲̩̪̗̍͗͗͊́͛̐̾͘̕̚d̵̢̛̦͓͙̺͒͒̏̔́̅͒̓͑͋̕̕.̵̧̧̛̫͇̞̼͎̣͉͙͌̍̽͑͊̿͆͗̑̋̚̕͜ .̴̡̠͉̬̱̟͈̌̎̽̄͆̂̀̿͛̆̚

He can't understand it— what's she saying?

Something else. The place is so different... so... strange. It's not inside the walls— there are people... pointing at them with guns? What is this? Why do you show me this?

Who is examining their eyes? Hey—! It's his eyes— they have them too! Where are they? It's his family? Tell me!

You should wake him up— it's too early.

What are you talking about?! It's the only link we've made in years!

He's right. We will do damage if we show more. Let's not overdo it.

Uh?

"[Name]! Wake up!"

[Name] instantly opens his eyes and gets up, breathing fast. He takes a moment to understand what he saw— but he can't remember any of it. Like a dream he wanted to remember, but was erased forever. What was it? He had to remember— he had to! It was something important-- he knows it. But as soon he tries to imagine at least a bit of it, his headache comes with full force, shutting him down. He lets out a whimper as he hold his head.

Armin gets worried immediately, "are you alright?!" He closes his book and gets near him, exterminating him.

[Name] finds his voice to ask irritated, "why did you wake me up?"

The blond blinks, unsure, "y-you seemed to have a bad dream... you were whispering things and moving a lot. Do you remember any of it?"

"No." [Name] sighs, exasperated by the failure, "we should go back."

Armin is confused— did he do something wrong? He tries to apologize, but [Name] stands up, giving his hand for Armin to take, which he does. They leave without much to say, but [Name] can't shake off the odd feeling even more. He's uncomfortable, and if Armin notices it, he doesn't say anything.

When they get to the gates, [Name] speaks. "I should go with mom, I've been wandering too much."

"O-Oh, well... see you later!" Armin waves and smiles, seeing [Name] leave into another direction with a odd expression. He's worried, but doesn't pry.

━━━━━━✧♛✧━━━━━━

[Name]'s house is far from the gates— a little trouble some when you have your friend's house near the gates. The boy is irritated already, and hearing such multiple voices from the people only gets him even more exasperated. Plus, this 'odd feelings' he's having is only making him mad. What does this mean? Would something happen today? Something bad? Good? He doesn't know at all. Maybe the best thing to do is tell Beatrice in the end. As she said before, 'bottle up things doesn't work. Someday they will come out even if you don't want to.'

Just the thought of his mom and her delicious pastries calms him— he's happy. [Name] doesn't want to leave her at all... but he knows when the military comes, he will join and there won't be much 'family meetings'.

He yawns. He's almost half-way his house, almost there. Everyone is talking, but [Name] doesn't pay attention on what they are talking about, just the sound of their voice. The wind...

Wait. Something changed— as if the air turned heavy, as if something bad was behind him. Someone or something tells him to not turn around because there's something behind— but [Name] hears it before anyone else, like always. He doesn't know what is that sound, but his mind is telling him is something dangerous, something that should be feared— there's no words to understand it, and he doesn't even know what is he hearing, but someone is telling him to run. But he doesn't.

[Name] abruptly stops, widening his eyes in terror. Turning his whole body behind, his gaze locks on the wall, and just in a millisecond, a thunder appears from the sky and shocks into something behind the wall. And then, that thing appears— [Name] doesn't know what the hell is that thing looking at him, but at the same time he can't deny a sense of familiarity. He's shocked, looking at it's eyes.

Everyone is watching the titan with shock, fear, amazement. They are waiting for what it's about to do, but no one is prepare of what is going to happen. As the titan gets a grip on the wall, it moves, and after a couple of seconds it's foot kicks the gate, sending wind blows at everything near it. Debris gets on various houses and on people, killing them instantly. [Name] can't move, the only thing he can do is watch the horror in front of him. The colossal titan disappears, as if it was never there to begin with. Everyone runs away as they see the titans coming their way— multiple of them.

"What is happening?!"

M̵̨͖̞͓͇̲̺̝̱̪̜̻̀́̄̇̋̈́͗̓̌ǫ̴̘͙͔͈̫̣̠̖̭͙̲̅v̶̛̺̗̟͓͔̱̹̿̿̂͛̈̎̈́̆̏̕̚ͅe̶̡̨̛̯̰̰̞̭̯͓͌̿̔̓̒̒̐̈́͗͘,̸̡̛̤̲̳̫͚̝͈ ̸̯͆͋͂̈́͊͘b̶̧̤̩̹͈͕̘̝̺͗̍̽ṟ̶̨̜̻̪͇̹̣͔͇̞͍̘̓͊̎͌å̷̢̨̡̨̧̧̹̗̝̠t̵̢̤͈̐̀!̴̤̣̘̻͉͎̫̹͉̇̽͑͛̆̐̔̐̂̋̂͠ͅͅ

[Name] runs as fast as he can to his house. He thanks whoever his house is far away from this mess, but he can't forget Eren's house is just at the gate. Would they be alright? Should he go for them?! The boy stops, undecided if to run to his house or go to Eren's— is this time to even think?

H̸̝̦̖͍͈͖̱̩̪̙͂̃̉̿͂̓̽̂̐̍̕͘ͅe̴��̙̩͇́͛̽̔͂y̵̛̮̣͍̺͖͕̰̓͌͋̎͗̔̂͝ͅ!̵̡͓̜̺̝̱̪̙̌͒̂̀̌̕ͅ ̶̖̙͙̟̗̼̰͈̘͇̠̩̿̊̉͛̇̊̈́̌͐̐̚S̴̙̟̞͛t̴͖̤̱̪̅͋̈́̇̓͑͛͆͝ơ̵̡͎͎̯̎̔̓̃͋͆͑̊̆͒̕p̴̨̨̩̼̞̖̜̝͇͎̺̏̓̌͑͝͠ͅ ̵̧͈̼̝͓̩̜͙͍̈̈́̎̆̍̐̏̑͂̄̃̈ͅṱ̴̛̠̜̫͈̬͉̼̫̩̲̜̑͑͆̎̄̆̎̎̆͆̚͘h̶̬̬͚̑̄̔͆i̶͓ṅ̸̢̛̘̥͙̪͖̜̥̩̱́̈́͒̈́͜͠ķ̶̟͈̤̗̟͉̖̫̞̫͍̔̋̿̽͠ǐ̸̳̜̝̩̭̤͇̯͉̺̝̰̍̽͗͋̕ñ̷̘̜͚́͊ͅģ̶̨̘̬̝̫̺̰͙͖͒͊͛̒͛̃̀͂̚̚͜͠ ̷̥͇̗͖̟̹̲̘̊͊́̈́̒̀̓͌͑̏͆͌͠a̸̮͚͓͖̳̭̞͐̅̈͛͗̇͗̃̄̈́̚͝n̶̛͍͖͎̠͇̦͈̿͛͜d̷͚̯͗̂ͅ ̴̬͚͍̘̝̯̥̆̈r̶̦͈̉̀ų̸̮̺̳͈͚̻͙͖̝̎͐̅̔̎͛̏̈͐̑͠n̶̲̤̟̹̭͔̈́̃̏͊̏̌̂̕ͅ ̶̞̀̑́̕a̶̼̙̭̲̣̞̋̃͋̓̀͆w̸̧̜͉̼͉̅͐̽̿͗͂̓̃a̵̡̫̝͖̪̞̍y̸̡̪̖͖̹̲͔̹͖̯͙͊̑̏͂̏̇͘̕!̸̨̡̩̬̙̱͚̭̬̟̩̋̐͜

No— Beatrice is worried, you should go back.

He doesn't want to leave his friends, but something makes him run at the direction of his house. The boy does his best to try and doze off the horrible sounds around him— the screams, the whispers on his back, the horrifying sounds the titans make... the scared boy locks his gaze in front on him until he gets to his house safe and sound, where Beatrice is waiting.

He can already see her outside her house, trying to understand what in the world is going on. She's worried, but her expression changes when she sees [Name] running towards her. As soon as the boy gets there, he grabs her hand and tries to pull her to the inside's gate as he explains, "we need to go! something appeared out of nowhere and destroyed the gate!"

"W-What?! T-That can't be possible!" Beatrice widen her eyes as she tries to process the situation. But as she sees everyone running towards the gate and notices the titans far away coming where they are, her expression turn into one of terror. "W-We need our stuff!"

"There's no time! We have to go!" [Name] takes charge and tries to leave, but Beatrice can't move. "They will get here, mom!" Both can hear and see the Garrison Soldiers trying to take care of the disaster, but as everyone knows, they are not capable of holding it.

Beatrice lets out a shaky breath before nodding and get on running.

Fortunately the gate is already open— they cross it, seeing soldiers preparing ships to sail. There are a lot of people gathering already, but [Name] hopes everything gets done fast. They hurriedly walk there, waiting for their turn to get on the ship.

"I wonder if they are alright..." He can't stop himself to think about them— he should have been with them first. But then, maybe Beatrice would look for him and get hurt. What was the right thing to do? "They have to be..."

Beatrice squeeze his shoulder. "They are, [Name]. They are strong."

It's really slow, but soon they get on one of the ships that is already full. There are two more empty, but [Name] wonders if everyone of Shinganshina can get on just these boats. His eyes try to see if his friends are there, but he can't see them at all. He only hears desperation, but not their voices. He's shaking, but Beatrice tries her best to calm him down. She's scared too, terrified, even. She can't even comprehend what just happen— there was a heavy sound far away from her house, but then what? The boat sails, leaving the disaster that the district hold.

The woman hugs her child with caring, closing her eyes and wishing for the best.

So, was this the gut feeling you were having all day?

#reader insert #male reader #male!reader #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #various x reader #various x male! reader #eren jaeger x male reader #armin arlert x male reader #e m p t y #shingeki no kyojin x male reader

104 notes · View notes

eeveevie · 5 years ago

Text

lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover [x]

It's Fiona's birthday, and she would rather spend it alone as she's always done. Brynjolf quickly changes her mind.

💕

Brynjolf x Fiona

1262 words (under a cut) | Ao3

4E 203, 13 Sun’s Dawn

Today is my birthday…

For as long as Fiona could remember, she had spent her birthday alone. It was an awkward, melancholy feeling every Sun’s Dawn—instead of feeling excited at another year passing, another year of growing older, all she felt was an overwhelming sense of sadness. Ever since her parents’ death, she had hardly recognized the day other than a special notation in her journal. In the years since their passing, her relatives hadn’t given her the time of day, and when she traveled alone, a birthday was hardly a momentous occasion.

But now that she was in Riften, had been for more than a year now, it was difficult to circumvent the day—practically everybody she knew, at least in the Guild—was aware what that day brought. Even the previous year, when she was still a padfoot, Brynjolf had managed to find a way to tailgate on her trip to Falkreath. Their little escapade had turned out to be a welcome surprise for Fiona, as did their friendship (and eventual relationship), but that didn’t change the fact that even now, a year later, she preferred to reflect on her birthday alone.

That year, she would be thirty-one. Considering she hadn’t thought she would make it a day past twenty, she considered herself lucky. Especially when she thought about how many times she had cut it close with bandits, or Daedra—or dragons. As she scribbled the same line marks as she did every year in her journal to keep track of the time gone by, she idly wondered why the home seemed so quiet. Not that she cared so deeply—it was what she wanted, right? But for Brynjolf to be missing so early in the morning seemed awfully suspicious.

Plus, he positively knew it was her birthday. At least, she hoped he remembered. It wasn’t like him to suddenly forget such a fact, even if he had been knocked over the head a few too many times by wildlife and rogue thieves. Or had drunk himself into an amnesiac stupor on more than one occasion. Finally, the quiet began to pester her far too much and she stood from her desk, pacing about the foyer as if it would calm her nerves.

It didn’t.

Instead, Fiona crumpled her fingers into the fabric of her skirts, regretting that she didn’t take the opportunity to assign herself a few jobs far away from the city that week. She was the Guildmaster after all! If she didn’t want to be there, she didn’t have to be! As she was walking back towards the fireplace, a piece of parchment caught her eye. Perplexed, she rushed over to snatch it up, quickly glancing over the short but scribbled message in all to familiar handwriting.

Lover,

Ragged Flaggon at Dusk

-Your Tafiir

Oh, so Brynjolf was definitely up to something after all, Fiona only needed to figure out what. Her heart immediately began pounding in her chest, echoing in her ears. Last time, only a few months ago, he had gone through such an effort on a romantic gesture for one type of goal in mind. A mix of emotions and trepidation started to bubble in Fiona’s gut as she whisked herself out the door, almost forgetting to slip on her shoes before she went.

It didn’t take her very long to make her way to the graveyard entrance, lingering outside the mausoleum long enough to steady her nerves. Was Brynjolf really that foolish to propose again so soon? On her birthday? What was she kidding, asking herself that? Of course he was. Brynjolf would ask her every single day if he had the opportunity, but he knew it was likely she’d ship him off to Solstheim if that was the case.

Maybe Fiona was worried over nothing—perhaps he had simply baked her a cake to share with the Guild. She could live with that. But as she made her way into the Cistern proper, she was faced with what appeared to be almost every member of the organization, lingering about as if they had been waiting her arrival. She stood there, blinking, just watching her thieves until she noted a familiar face—Delvin, silently motioning towards the Ragged Flaggon door.

Well, it was now or never.

Fiona’s breath escaped her in one fell gasp the moment she crossed the threshold of the Flaggon. Her eyes dazzled as she took in the sight of the strung up lanterns that circled the large tavern, which she noted had been completely cleared out save for the man who was obviously behind this plan—Brynjolf.

She advanced, taking in more of the atmosphere he had crafted. On every table he had scattered yellow flower petals, and on the table closest to him there was a cluster of rare pearls atop a bundle of wrapped parchment—a present.

“Brynjolf?” she questioned in a hesitant tone, hand reaching out to brush across the gift as she eyed him. As if he could sense her skepticism, he stepped forward, instantly grasping both her hands.

“Now don’t worry that head of yours, lass. I’m not asking for your hand again,” he assured with a grin, squeezing her fingers. Fiona sighed, somewhat relieved. “This time.”

He tilted his head a little closer toward her. “That is, unless you’re prepared to say yes.”

She laughed, despite all the anxiety she had felt up until that moment. “You were saying?”

Brynjolf breathed a smile, tucking their clasped hands to his chest as he brought her closer. “I know it’s your birthday,” he said with the slightest hint of nervousness. “I know you’d rather be alone. I was hoping I could change your mind.”

Fiona gazed up at his hopeful expression and already she could feel her heart soaring. Brynjolf didn’t always ask for much but he truly was a hopeless romantic. In all the bad deals she had been dealt in life, she had lucked out in meeting him. She suddenly felt very foolish for ever wanting to spend the day locked away in Honeyside when she had this man with his whole heart to give to her, just waiting to show what good there was in life.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked in reply.

He gently started to sway them, moving one hand so it slid around the small of her back, bringing her even closer. Fiona took the opportunity to hook her free arm around his shoulder, busying her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. It was strange to dance to no music, but they did so at their own pace, slowly, just softly smiling as they gazed into one another’s eyes. Somewhere, in the back of her mind she thought that if he dared to ask her right then, she might’ve said yes.

“Bryn?”

“Aye?”

She tilted her chin up, pausing in their movements so she could kiss him, grinning when she felt him smiling against her lips. He embraced her tighter, kissed her a little harder until she was breaking away for an inhale of air, giggling about how absolutely in-love she was. Brynjolf placed a softer kiss to the bridge of her nose and another to her forehead before hovering across her lips once more.

“What can I do for the birthday queen?” he asked. Fiona rather liked the sound of that, though she only wanted one thing, and that was to be with her king.

“Take me home,” she smiled against his lips. “Lover.”

❤ 13/29 ❤

#elder scrolls: skyrim #brynjolf #brynjolf x f!dovahkiin #fiona bloom-holt #otp: I shall taunt you a second time #fanfic #t-swift february fics #happy birthday fiona #my sweet lover sign lass #so of course she gets this song #and yes i needed to use the video gif #this is supremely cheesy #like taco bell supreme beef cheese level of cheese #🌮🌮🌮

22 notes · View notes

jaybirbmoved · 4 years ago

Text

Jason Todd’s Age

So, as of DC Rebirth, Jason is supposedly twenty years old.

Of course on my blog I like to dismiss most of the finer canon details while keeping the story lines, filling them in with my own shit, because I can. I know their ages keep getting changed and the timeline is made shorter and shorter because they want to keep Bruce like, 40 years old forever, but that’s stupid too (if you want him to be spry and young you could just point to all the mystical bullshit he’s been involved in as a reason why he’s not age while his kids are, but whatever).

On my blog, there are the ages I generally use: Dick is 25-ish, Jason is between 20-22, Tim is 17-19, and Damian who has actually been shown celebrating birthdays is between 10-13 depending on the comic. As blog default I make Jason chronologically 23, and I periodically update his ‘birth year’ to keep up with that, which... should probably remove that altogether because the comics are so all over the place there’s no point in giving any of them a year of birth.

Anyways, back to the main point of this.

The more I think about it, the more I realize that there’s no way in hell that Jason would/could look his actual age. DC insists on trying to cram ten years worth of storyline into a three year period, but since Jason was brought back into the main comic continuity in 2010, a lot has happened. I call bullshit on him having been Robin, died, come back, taken over Gotham’s criminal underground, formed two separate teams and had half a dozen clashes with the family before getting on good terms with them again, been part of Batman Inc, all in less than six years, that’s just fucking dumb.

Even ignoring the fact that my personal canon for him a mash up of Post-Crisis origins and the current New-52/Rebirth continuity, it wouldn’t make sense for Jason to be 20. For starters, Post-Crisis Jason Todd died when he was 15, this is undisputed due to it being mentioned a few times. It says he

According to his death certificate, it was April during Death In The Family (assuming Bruce didn’t take a while to forge a cover story for his death and he actually was killed earlier than that). Jason’s birthday is in August, meaning he died roughly four months before his sixteenth birthday. According to the end of Under The Hood, Superboy’s punch altered reality and Jason woke up in his coffin six months after his death. For the sake of argument, we’ll say it was exactly six months.

This means he woke up on October 26th, roughly 2.10 months after he was supposed to turn sixteen. During that time, he obviously couldn’t mentally or physically age while dead. He spends about a year comatose, a little under a year as a homeless amnesiac after waking up from the coma, and then another year with Talia as she tries to get him to recover from his brain injury. Chronologically he would have been around 18 when Talia shoved him into the Lazarus Pit, which seems about right. So minus the six months he spent dead, that means he’s about seventeen and a half physically speaking, and still 15 mentally/emotionally due to his development being stunted by trauma.

Now, we know the Lazarus Pit can cure diseases, heal injuries, and also resurrect the dead. However, it was mainly used by Ra’s Al Ghul, before learning of it’s full abilities, to de-age him, hence being considered the origins of the ‘fountain of youth’ in the DC universe. Apparently, the longer you stay in the younger you get (also if a young and healthy person went into the Pit they would die and/or be driven insane).

Given Talia literally shoved him in because she was pressed for time and needed to heal him and get out before Ra’s flipped his shit (and BOY did he ever), I would say Jason was submerged for 30 seconds to 1 minute. This is just guessing on my part. But if less than five minutes can make Ra’s go from being in his seventies to his mid-twenties, I’d say it’s fairly plausible for Jason to have gone into the Pit as a 17/18 year old and come out looking fifteen or sixteen.

Which, if you look at flashbacks of New 52 Jason after Talia has healed him (or restored from the dead in that continuity) he looks far too young to be 19 as he supposedly was then. Here’s some images of him from RHATO, when he was training with the mystical cult the All-Caste, whom Talia left him with.

He looks like he’s a goddamn fourteen year old on steroids.

For simplicity sake, although he is chronologically 18 years old at this point, the Lazarus Pit + not age while dead has left him physically at 15-16, with his mental age around the same because, again, he had brain damage and no opportunity to mature while dead/comatose/catatonic.

He spends a couple years mimicking Batman’s world tour to learn martial arts and disciplines, eventually returning to Gotham as the Red Hood when he’s… 19? 20? They never actually say since comic books like foggy timelines. Yet despite being a grown man now, he’s still physically in his late teens. Here’s Jason when confronting Batman in UtH, holding Joker hostage and ready to kill him.

Flash forward a couple years later in real time (unknown amount of time in-universe) where he’s now more or less on amicable terms with the Bat family, even if they aren’t all lovey-dovey and Sunday night dinners together. If Damian is at least 12-13 (he’s had a birthday recently in the comics) and Tim is 18-19. that puts Jason at about 22-23.

But he looks like he could be a college sophomore.

^ Set recently, during Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth.

But yeah, while Jason’s mind has more or less recovered from all the trauma he’s been through - mostly thanks to working through pretty much every single moment of his past that he can remember with his therapist, Jason no longer has that emotionally stunted/underdeveloped mind that he did after waking from the dead.

However, he still spent 6 months dead during the time most boys typically have their final growth spurt, and was then submerged in a youth-restoring chemical bath.

I’d say though he’s chronologically in his mid-twenties at this point, to other people Jason would have the physical appearance of a 20 year old. So he is physically the age that DC claims, but in terms of how many years it’s been since he was born, he’s 23, for anyone confused about why there’s different ages in his bio.

#Character Study {Meta}#My Wings Were Clipped {Self}#Spilled Ink {Headcanon}

3 notes · View notes

tonystarktogo · 6 years ago

Text

Top 5 Favorite Time Travel Fics You’re Prepared To Defend To Death

Full disclosure, I absolutely adore the time travel trope. I have yet to meet a fandom where I didn’t enjoy it and the MCU is no exception. Especially since -- let’s face it -- it’s not like there’s a lack of issues that need fixing. Nor is it out of the realm of possibilities, in-universe-wise. I do my best to avoid spoilers, but that isn’t completely possible.

Here are, in no particular order, my favorite gems of the lot:

#1: If You Had This Time Again by dls

Tony Stark closed his eyes in a wrecked Siberian bunker and woke up on a demolished New York street. Four years earlier.

There are many, many reasons why I adore this fic and I promise it’s not just because I have a huge weakness for long stories (which, by the way, dls has my utmost respect for writing so much so well, seriously and their posting schedule is something I can only dream off). The changes Tony inevitably causes, big and small, immediate and over time, are wonderfully done. But I think my favorite part is the way the author takes time to develop Tony’s relationships. The way Tony builds his family this time (in true Tony fashion both accidentally and on purpose) and particularly his friendship with Pepper are things I cherish.

The main pairing is FrostIron, which isn’t for everyone, but I personally love it and damn if it doesn’t work well in this fic. Their interactions had me on the edge of my seat right from the beginning, wanting more and at the same time knowing that the wait would make it all the sweeter. I could list more things, but I don’t want to spoil anything. I also haven’t read everything yet -- for that matter, the fic is incomplete at the moment -- because I occasionally lose track of this beauty during stressful times and then go back and re-read everything from the start. So far, I haven’t regretted that a single time and I know I’m going back to this fic again soon.

#2: We'll Meet Again (Some Sunny Day) by @tangodancer91

Stranded in the past, Toni Stark builds herself a new life, far from superheroes and corporate expectations.

Reading this series is both, the best choice and the greatest mistake I ever made. Mostly because it is wonderfully woven, heartbreaking and -shredding mess of angst -- also because it’s incomplete. I’m still waiting for my happy ending here *pouts*

Seriously though, the series handles the interactions between a post!CW Toni and a 40s-Bucky-and-Steve, the developing relationship between Toni and Bucky, the inevitability of the ever-looming future events ARSIDLSLKSjksadkls!!! This fic just gives me so. many. feels. and I swear Build, Now, a Monument delivered everything I expected after the previous parts, killed what was left of my heart and was so freaking amazing that I had to re-read it despite the pain I knew it was going to cause me. What is it about angst that draws me in like this? I’d seriously like to know.

Anyway, whether the series will be finished or not, I assure you it’s absolutely worth reading. Just-- try not to let bitterness and tears swallow you whole while you do that.

#3: Seize Yesterday by DannieU

In 2017 the Earth is about to end. In 1987 Howard Stark might have the answer. The solution seems simple, except Tony has the worst of luck, and he might just be stuck.

In which Tony hates magic, time travel, babysitting amnesiac assassins and being seventeen.

Another favorite of mine. I really enjoyed the plot in this one -- and of course the WinterIron. But don’t let the summary fool you, the key words are indeed ‘worst of luck’. Which means that, yes, this another mess of angst and heartbreak. So much angst and heartbreak. I’d say the ending more than makes up for it, but to tell the truth I was still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster and couldn’t properly enjoy it. I also really liked the thing with Natasha (you’ll know what I mean) which I’d never seen done in a fic before (though I’m pretty sure there are others out there, I just haven’t seen them yet.)

Overall, it’s a great fic -- and contrary to the first two this one is finished -- and I definitely recommend it.

#4: Anew. by @ivivao3

In death, there was no glory, no redemption, no salvation.

Only darkness and ice—or that’s what Tony thought. He closed his eyes in a Siberian bunker and opened them again on his 41st birthday, with War Machine flying into the distance.

This one is for you IronStrange fans out there! (And I know for a fact that you are out there, guys, denial is futile!) There are two obvious reasons why I remember loving this fic, even though it’s been a while since I’ve read it. One thing is indeed Tony and Stephen. The other is JARVIS. Also seeing Tony say “Go. Save. Yourself.” was incredibly satisfying, therapeutic and honestly couldn’t have happened to a more deserving guy (okay, there might be a couple more on the list, but it’s a start!!)

Anyways, the fic is completed and there’s also a sequel, though that one is still ongoing. Enjoy :)

#5: Veni, Vidi, Amavi by Maedlin

(We came, we saw, we loved.)

Tony's not the hero type. To suggest otherwise would be outlandish and fantastic, clearly.

Yet somehow, he's the one that's responsible for saving the universe. Now, he's a decade in the past. He's just revealed to the world he's Iron Man. Tony finds himself facing dozens of old problems, and as time passes the ripple effect of his presence generates ever more new issues.

All the while, the impending threat of Thanos looms ever-closer.

(Or: how I becomes we and Tony learns that not all burdens must be shouldered alone.)

Truth be told, I might be getting ahead of myself here, since I haven’t actually finished this fic yet. Oops. Still, it’s time travel and also it includes bot feels. (And yes, I’m counting JARVIS as a bot in this scenario, just let me, okay.) I’ve really enjoyed the chapters I’ve read so far, which is really enough to warrant a place on this list *shrug*. The story is also finished and has a still on-going sequel.

Obviously these aren’t the only great time travel fanfics, so if you have a favorite that hasn’t been added, please feel free to join the Top 5 Fanfic Saturday or just add it in a comment/reblog.

Btw what do you think about time travel?

#ReRe recs #ReRe rambles #Top 5 Fanfic Saturday #fic rec #fic recs #MCU #Tony Stark #Tony Stark centric #Time Travel #FrostIron #WinterIron #do overs #they are a trope for a reason #probably includes spoilers

486 notes · View notes

merculuros · 5 years ago

Text

Chrisker Series

When You Fall For Your Enemy

Beginning of An Unforeseen Love (Part 1)

Summary: Chris finds Wesker alive after their fight in Africa. Just when he thinks everything will get back on track now that he has arrested Wesker, he learns something very surprising and everything turns upside down. On top of that, he finds himself in a relationship with the last person he can consider as a boyfriend.

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Albert Wesker

Word count: 1,470

Tags: Crack, Humor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Alternate Universe: Canon Divergence, Post Re5, amnesiac!Wesker, Slow Burn.

Author’s Note: You can find this series on AO3. I was going to add the link but if I do that, the post will not show up in the tags, so here we go.

Chris squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second pinching his nose bridge. The headache he had got all day was making his life miserable and he was amazed he didn’t faint out of exhaustion at some point today. All that happened this past week was taking its toll on him. Looking at the man sitting beside him out of corner of his eyes, he felt his head throb with pain again. His hands tightened around the steering wheel, casting his eyes away from the said man he tried to focus on the road. All he needed right now was a good night’s sleep and a painkiller. But he kept replaying the recent events in his mind.

About a week ago, just after his confrontation with Wesker in Africa, he found the man somewhere near that volcanic area; he was passed out, injured but still alive. Chris wasn't exactly surprised to find out that two RPGs and a volcano hadn’t killed him. In fact he was starting to believe there wasn't a way to kill the other. However, what he didn’t expect, was that the man looked young, maybe even younger than his ex-captain from S.T.A.R.S days and Chris felt like he had gone back in time. After their return to America with the blonde, he was determined to seek justice for everything he had done. Even though killing him was out of the question, there had to be other ways to punish him like locking him away somewhere, cutting all his connections from outside world. But of course, his plans never worked the way he wanted. Because of his severe injuries Wesker stayed unconscious for days. When he regained his consciousness, Chris had the most shocking news of his life. The blonde had amnesia and remembered nothing, not even his name. He suspected his regenerative skills didn't work properly at the time, for they couldn't heal the damage done to his brain.

This unexpected situation led BSAA to take a different and risky approach regarding the bio-terrorist. And Chris was definitely not happy with what they came up with. They thought he could be an excellent asset for fighting bio-terrorism and gave him a totally different story - that he was a BSAA agent, had an accident on a mission and lost his memory -. Chris knew taking advantage of someone like this was morally wrong even if this said person was Wesker, but the threat he posed to this world was big, so he couldn't object to it. The worst part of the plan was the blonde needed to be supervised at all times, meaning he was to live with one of the BSAA agents to record the progress he would make and to take necessary precautions in case his memory returned. No matter how unwilling Chris was, he volunteered to be that lucky person, mostly because Wesker was still dangerous and he didn’t want to endanger his comrades’ lives. Also, who knew his own arch-nemesis better than him? Ongoing rivalry between them made it easier for him to put with the blonde’s bullshit over the years. He was used to the other’s arrogant and assholish behaviour so he could say living with him wouldn’t bother him much, at least he hoped so. Though he had to admit Wesker looked nothing like his usual self; he looked less ….. evil and menacing in this state. Chris never imagined he would feel sympathy for him but he was, because the other was probably feeling disoriented and lost. If Chris were in his shoes, he would certainly freak out. But then again Wesker was always calm and collected even in the most dangerous situations. That was one of his rare good traits he could appreciate about the blonde.

Coming back to reality, Chris shifted in his seat uncomfortably. This awkward and disturbing silence was getting to him and he wanted some sort of distraction to dissolve the tension in the car. His eyes met with Jill’s through the rear-view mirror who was as uneasy as him. She offered to come with them to take some documents she had left at his home before, but Chris knew she was here mostly for mental support but her presence didn’t really help right now.

“How is this possible?” Wesker questioned, his eyes fixated on the wing mirror, obviously shocked at his newfound discovery that he had red eyes. Before Wesker was discharged from BSAA hospital today, doctors had informed Chris about what was going with the blonde and how severe his condition was. Though he presumed that Wesker wouldn’t just forget everything about himself. Apparently he did. Based on this, perhaps he wasn’t aware of his superhuman abilities either, yet.

“Yeah about that …. It is really a long story, so I will explain everything later. You should just rest now.” Chris murmured, not wanting to deal with this right now.

“I am tired of everyone brushing over my questions. I want some answers.” Wesker snapped “also how long till we arrive at my place? I am starting to feel a little bit nauseous now.” He added.

“Actually .. we are going to my place.” Chris answered.

“Why?”

“Because you … uh … live with me.” Chris added nervously. He cursed himself for not thinking this through.

Wesker raised one blond eyebrow curiously.

“And the reason for that is …?” he dragged out the last word, he was getting frustrated by all this. Unfortunately Chris’s mind was occupied with a lot of things lately so he didn’t have time to make up a story that would cover up their plan, which was a huge mistake on his part. He should have guessed that the man would question this whole situation. He looked at Jill again with a what should I say kind of expression on his face, though she looked as lost as him. He speculated about the excuses he could make, yet nothing sounded convincing even to his ears. Then Jill jumped in to save the day.

“You know, you guys are together. Actually, you got … uhm … engaged last month, that’s why you live together” her voice turning into a whisper near end, realizing how ridiculous her spontaneous lie sounded but it was too late to turn back. Her reply took both men by surprise; Wesker let out a silent “oh” while Chris braked so hard that if they hadn’t had their seatbelts on, they would have flown out of the car. Behind them, angry drivers honked furiously cussing them for a possible car accident they could have caused. Feeling betrayed, Chris turned his head back to look at her with wide eyes. She pressed her lips into a thin line and sank into her seat as if she wanted to disappear.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” Wesker questioned with narrowed eyes.

Chris had no choice but to go with her lie “I … uhm ... I didn’t want to overwhelm you with this information right away and I strictly told Jill not to mention this but she couldn’t keep her mouth shut” answered scoldingly.

“Well … I guess I was going to find out this sooner or later, so you don’t need to be angry at her. Though I am still won-” Chris didn’t let him finish his sentence.

“I know. Can we not have this conversation right now?” retorted his voice raising and his body radiating anger. Wesker was taken aback by sudden change of attitude but made no further remark.

Chris gritted his teeth and tried to suppress his anger. Rest of the ride was quiet and Chris couldn’t care less now that he was in sour mood. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he had to babysit his arch-nemesis, now he would have to play house with him. When they finally arrived, Chris showed Wesker around the house and handed Jill the documents she came to take, then she left. Closing the door behind her, he was finally alone with the embodiment of trouble himself. Sighing, he headed to the bedroom to see what the blonde was up to and saw a sleeping Wesker curled up on his –from now on- their bed. Suddenly it dawned on him that he would sleep with his boyfriend in the same bed tonight.

Oh God. What did I get myself into?!

Chris rubbed his temples in effort to ease the pain, the headache from earlier coming back with full force again.

Grabbing a painkiller from the the bathroom, he slumped on the soft couch in the living room comfortably. Without water he swallowed the pill and leant his head back, closing his eyes tiredly.

He was so deep in lies that he was starting to regret his every decision. There was no turning back now, so he hoped things wouldn’t get any worse than this.

#Chris Redfield #Albert Wesker #chrisker #chrisxwesker #weskerxchris #my fanfiction #when you fall for your enemy #crack #humor #fake/pretend relationship #slow burn #amnesiac!Wesker #au: canon divergence #post re5 #resident evil #biohazard #fanfiction #ao3 #this fic isn't serious

37 notes · View notes

nadziejastar · 5 years ago

Text

I completely agree. A lot of fans didn't appreciate the complexity they were attempting with Axel as a character. And that's why so many fans actually came away with the genuine belief that he was "dumb" or an uncomplicated happy-go-lucky guy, whose entire existence revolved around a 15-year-old boy he couldn’t have a serious conversation with. Or a heartless sociopath. I will use quotes from this forum topic since I found the opinions there to be so interesting.

First of all, I don't dislike Axel. I like his type of character, but I could never really connect with him because his rash development always kinda irritated me. In Re:Com, we get to see him as cunning, smart-mouthed, manipulative and cold-blooded. He kills Vexen without a second thought, taunts and fights Sora, plays Marluxia and gets Replicu to kill Zexion who didn't even need to die.

Days is trying to sell me that this man who seemed hardly much different from Marluxia and Larxene (which is why they accepted him quickly) would actually try to befriend someone who can't even talk. And it's not just handing him an ice cream once after a job, but Axel actually does make an effort to keep this friendship up. He later states that Roxas made him feel like he had a heart, but that was way after he started caring about Roxas (a job he complained to have, actually).

It's not that I dismiss the idea of Axel befriended someone like Roxas entirely - but RAX is the trio that sold its friendship to me the least. There's is this jarring difference between Re:Com Axel and Days Axel and also KH2 Axel and KH3 Axel. Re:Com Axel is, like I already said, cunning and manipulative, but acts like a playful, "I'll explain the world to you" nice uncle in Days when he isn't currently out there killing people (this transition obviously doesn't bother him one bit) and after he jumps between two extremes, he is rather straightforward in KH2, being quite clear with Roxas. In KH3 he turned into a joke, sadly and I can't even see why he had to..

When I see opinions like these, it’s SO clear that Axel was supposed to get an actual fleshed out backstory. Not a 2 minute exposition dump primarily functioning as sequel-bait. That’s NOT a backstory. A lot of people think Days "ruined" him because he acted so differently compared to CoM. Like you said, he was a Slytherin in CoM. Lea was probably more of a Ravenclaw. Axel acted more like that around Roxas and Xion.

Many didn't see that Axel was hiding so much of himself with them. In many ways, he was putting on a performance. It just made him that much more interesting and realistic to me. Real people act differently in different situations. Axel was smart enough to know that he can't show certain aspects of himself to certain people. So he wore a mask with the kiddies and of course hid his sentimental side from everyone else. He was still the same character, though. I can totally see Axel befriending someone who can’t talk if he and his best friend were used as a human guinea pigs in the past, and his best friend was left unable to talk afterwards (which is what I think happened). That makes perfect sense.

Days was the fallout, and any shred of nuance his character had was gone. There's like, a tiny bit of it when he has to go to Castle Oblivion and has a "don't ask me about my job" vibe with Roxas, but that's not enough to make up for the rest of the game in which he's this sad puppy trying to befriend other sad puppies.

You bring up a fantastic point by saying he could've been friends with other members: one of my gripes with Days is that from the outside Roxas, Axel and Xion seem like this snob trio that doesn't even try to give other people a chance. Axel ditches possible companionship with people he's known for years and that are much closer to his age and possible interests because as soon as he sees this mute and unresponsive kid he's like, completely in awe. (Axel truly was the first "must protect precious cinnamon roll" person). And you can FEEL how much Roxas wants to get away from every single person who isn't Axel or Xion.

It’s sad that it was never shown that Axel was not in the organization by choice. It was obvious that he had a tragic past, but it still should have been shown. He never wanted to be an assassin. The Subject X retcon totally contradicts all of Axel’s past behavior from every single game. It blows my mind that a large portion of the fandom can uncritically accept that Axel was simply looking for a random girl for the last ten years. I can see how Roxas seemed like a “precious cinnamon roll” to Axel. The fandom certainly treats their relationship that way, which I find cringeworthy. But I don’t think that was supposed to be the idea. Axel seemed "in awe" of Roxas because he had a heart. He didn't act like a sociopath. The organization chews people up and spits them out. That’s what happened to Lea. Axel saw his past self in Roxas, so he felt compelled to protect him.

BBS only shows him in an irrelevant scene (sorry, it was completely unrelevant and unnecessary, but ok), and it start to try to change it into someone who cares about sad puppies and want to "be remembered forever". Well, Axel always kind of like to work in the shadows, but he likes to show of too. Alright. He seems to pet the dog when he can, even if he is also willing to kick it, too. Whatever. Not really adds nothing to me.

How is his scene in BBS irrelevant? It showed that he used to be a totally normal kid. Ya know, like Hayner's group? Not someone who is going to join Xehanort by choice. After I played BBS, I understood that after he snuck into the castle, he was kidnapped and forced to spend the last 10 years of his life in a cult surrounded by heartless criminals. Of course he would be drawn to two innocent children. He can vicariously relive his lost childhood through them. It just made him seem that much more complex.

Axel got turned into this caricature of himself because I think the series lacked the skillful writing to keep him around as one of the good guys while also mantaining his character intact.

So as soon as he started to become a positive figure he was turned into yet another acolyte of the Church of Friendship and Every Good Thing. Kingdom Hearts has too much black and white philosophy to handle a grey character like OG Axel without having to rethink and retell a lot of events. And he became the comic relief because I guess someone had to be when Donald wasn't around.

So much of what we saw of Axel was a persona---a facade. Including him talking about friendship. He was a multifaceted character. He was smart enough to fool not only the other organization members, but a large portion of the fandom, I guess. In my opinion, it wasn’t that the series wasn’t capable of making Axel a good guy while keeping his character intact. It’s that KH3 was catering to what fans wanted. KH3 went with the superficial facade version of his personality because the fandom has too much trouble with black-and-white thinking.

I never thought his character change worked either. I thought it was funny that people didn't want Isa to be redeemed despite all the horrible things Axel himself had done in CoM and KH2.

I had a pretty long discussion with someone who said Lea didn't seem concerned with Isa at all in KH3D. He only cared about Roxas. I didn't understand how anyone could play KH3D and come to that conclusion. I could tell Lea cared about Isa long before I ever read the novels. I guess a lot of people just don't do well with subtlety in storytelling. Apparently a lot of people didn’t even want Isa to be redeemed, despite being Norted as a child. I have no idea why. Because Saïx was an asshole? Because they didn't come right out and tell you Isa was a Nort? Isa jokingly called Lea a loser, so clearly that meant he was always evil (an opinion I have seen). If you ask me, Axel got turned into a caricature of himself because of the fandom, not because Nomura was incapable of pulling it off. Not the fans in that topic necessarily, just in general. The fans that KH3 was pandering to. Nomura could have easily pulled it off, lol. He almost did.

And while we're on the subject of Axel's intelligence, this is why I genuinely cannot fathom how people interpreted Axel as having romantic interest in Roxas. Even ignoring the age difference and amnesia, you really would have to dumb Axel down a LOT if you wanted him to look at Roxas like that, lol. Roxas was simply not in the same league as Axel when it came to intelligence, amnesiac or not. Axel could run circles around him on his worst day. Teenage Lea seemed a LOT more intelligent and mature than Ventus, too. I always felt like Roxas, a relatively simple teenager, was the protagonist for the target demographic of KH. But Axel, a complicated adult, was the "protagonist" for Nomura. He was able to put a lot more of himself into Axel, and probably related to things from his perspective far more than Roxas's. It's why I liked that game's story so much.

Saïx was very smart, but to be fair, we don’t know how much of that can be attributed to Xehanort’s influence. We do know Isa liked to make witty quips. I think he and Lea were likely in the same ballpark, which is why they had so much chemistry together. Speaking of Isa's intelligence, you bring up Axel's eidetic memory. He has an amazing ability to recall things. I think these two things are related. The imagery of the sunset is so important to Axel because Isa told him why the sun sets red. Isa was probably a know-it-all who knew a lot of random facts like that. He probably liked to act smug in a playful and charming way. I am doing a post on why that is such an important memory.

Now that I think about it, it would have been the exact opposite of his dynamic with Roxas and Xion. Axel had to explain everything to them, like you would with a small child. Axel longed for the companionship of someone who could challenge him and who knew things he didn't. Someone who could understand his complexity. My headcanon is that Isa must have been incredibly smart, and that's why he struggled to make friends. He went to the Realm of Sleep a long time ago. Once he was revived, he was still going to be Lea's BFF. Lea and Isa are now adults. That's probably why Jiminy's Journal described him as mature beyond his years. And that's why Lea liked him.

#kh axel

9 notes · View notes

heartslogos · 5 years ago

Text

newfragile yellows [698]

Ellana could die again, here, in his arms, being held so tightly, so closely, that it feels like there is noting between them. No clothes, no skin, no blood, no muscle, no bones, nothing at all. She could die here and she would, at last, be relieved, even though it would ruin them both al over again.

Time is lost. And this time Ellana doesn’t mind it. Ellana doesn’t mind losing time at all, like this.

Minutes could pass, hours could pass, days could pass, Ellana wouldn’t know or care at all.

So many things lose meaning around this man. Time, words, logic, common sense.

Hand to gods that might not exist, Ellana wouldn’t be able to recount a single detail of what her eyes and ears were seeing and hearing in this infinity if someone were to ask her. Her entire memory of the past unmeasurable paces of time are just the Iron Bull. It’s just him.

And then a new voice, through the wood door, “Chief, we’ve got an emergency. We need you now. All hands on deck, convening at the Inquisitors.”

There is no hesitation, no waver, absolutely no give away when the Iron Bull answers, “I’ll be at the council room in five.”

It’s impressive. Ellana is still trying to figure out how words work, she hasn’t even gotten to the second step of remembering how to vocalize them. And here’s the Iron Bull, casually speaking as though he wasn’t holding his long dead and then amnesiac wife in his arms after literal years of separation.

His hold on her starts to loosen. He sets her down, but before he can draw back he hesitates, mouth by her cheek.

“Ellana.”

“Yes?” Ah. There. That’s how words work.

“Are you walking out of this room with me?”

“Yes,” Ellana answers. She would say yes to anything he asked of her right now. He probably knows it. Or at least, he should. “Should I not?”

The Iron Bull’s hands linger on her arms before he steps back. Ellana feels so cold, even though they’re only inches away. He draws back so he can look at her, and she can read his face again. He is open to her. And he is worried.

“I need you to tell me something,” he says, “I love you. I think I’m always going to love you. But I need you to tell me if you did this on purpose.”

“I — I mean, yes, I wanted you to be the first one to know that I have my memory back. I told you this.”

“No, not that.” The Iron Bull’s thumbs press against her upper arms. She sees that he’s bracing himself for what he’s about to ask. She sees that he doesn’t know the answer she’s going to give him, and that makes him nervous. Uneasy.

She raises her hands to his face, the ring perfect on her finger, and she traces the edge of his jaw with her knuckles.

“What?”

“Did you — that last time. Did you go to Solas knowing what would happen? Did you plan this?”

Ellana looks at him, blankly.

“You studied the Anchor so you could understand it,” Bull says, “And I know that you — that you had this entire other plane of existence where you studied them. You studied him. You worked through his mind, you worked through his memories, you picked everything he did apart and put it back together again to see how we could use it against him later. Tell me that you didn’t go to him and get killed, absorbed, so you could figure out how he works up close and personal.”

Ah. Ellana’s forgotten words again. She just stares at him, mouth slack jawed and stunned.

He squeezes her arms, eye bright as he searches her face.

“Ellana. If we’re walking out of here together, I need to know if you did this — all of this — on purpose or not. I need to know how deep it went.”

“No,” Ellana chokes out, pushing the truth out of her mouth like an apple’s stone, coughing on it, strangling herself on it in her haste to shove it out of her. “Of course — I didn’t — I didn’t intend on dying.”

“We brought you back.”

“I didn’t know you could do that," Ellana snaps. "Solas certainly doesn't know you can just do that. I didn’t do this on purpose. I — "

She breathes in, frustration and anger and hurt at being accused, doubted like this.

"I left,” Ellana says. “I was wrong to do it. In hindsight. Obviously. But I didn’t do it with the — Listen. When I left I was arrogant. I thought that I knew enough and was strong enough, that I understood enough to convince him back to our side and to knock off all of this garbage bullshit. I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand at all. I was fully intent on coming back, Bull. I didn’t mean to walk away forever. I meant to come back to you. I always meant to come back to you.”

Ellana traces his face with her eyes. It isn’t a question of him believing her. She’s hurt him, she’s hidden things from him, but she’s never outright lied to him. It’s more of a question of him accepting that truth. Accepting the truth and all of the sharp points and jagged edges that it is. Ellana’s short sighted arrogance, her callousness. All of their suffering because of that.

Nothing calculated, nothing shrewd, nothing clever at all about it. About her.

“I died because I was stupid,” Ellana says quietly, “I should have known better. I shouldn’t have been so full of myself. I should have listened to the rest of you. When I was — when I was dead, I don’t remember anything about it. I swear to you. My next conscious memory was waking up to Mahanon. I didn’t gain anything from dying, Bull. I lost everything.”

“Okay,” Bull says. And that’s that.

He stands up fully, hands trailing down her shoulders, her arms, to her fingers.

“Let me change,” he says, “And we’ll go face the others.”

Ellana nods.

“Together?”

“Together.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

1 note · View note

magibigbang-blog · 6 years ago

Text

Fic Summaries Post

We apologize for the delay in this post- between people dropping and unforseen health circumstances in the mod team, things were a bit delayed. Thank you so much for your patience! The artist claim form will go up tomorrow at 1 PM EST, so that people have a chance to read over these and decide which fics they are interested in drawing for.

With no further ado, let me present our stories!

FIC 001 Ships: Sinbad/Judar Characters: Sinbad, Judar Rating: M Warnings: Graphic Violence Additional Warnings: Mentions of slavery and abuse Summary: Somewhere between the painful burn of his clogged lungs and the bloody petals falling from his lips, Judar remembers a distant past and a broken slave with exquisite golden eyes. A slave who now is the mighty king of Sindria. soulmate!AU, Hanahaki!AU

FIC 002 Ships: Sinbad/Judal Characters: Judal, Sinbad Rating: M Warnings: no major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Nothing in particular, I’ll keep you guys updated as I continue to work. The rating might be explicit depending on... how explicit I decide to go with nsfw :’). Summary: In a world with no use for kings nor magi, Judal has never felt more alone. It’s only the rumors of a certain king’s return to the world that reignite his sense of purpose; however, it is the fate he so desperately abhors that brings Sinbad back into Judal’s life, and he finally begins to understand the love of fate.

FIC 003 Ships: Juhaku, background Alimor & Hakuei/Paimon Characters: Hakuryuu and Judal Rating: T Warnings: No Major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: none Summary: Modern Figure Skating AU. Ren Hakuryuu is an up and coming prospect in the figure skating world. He’s been trained all his life by his coach and aunt, former champion Arba, to surpass her and gain prestige for himself in their chosen sport. However, his first attempt to move onto the world stage is soured when he meets Judal, an equally skilled skater who is seeking the exact same thing and being coached by Solomon to achieve it. Much like their trainers, each of them is instantly put off by the other and are determined to leave everyone else in the dust in pursuit of the gold medal. However, as they train for competition, they find their fierce rivalry developing into something much deeper.

FIC 004 Ships: Judal/Hakuryuu Characters: Judal, Hakuryuu Rating: T Warnings: No archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Does it count as major character death if one of the characters is dead before the story starts? Also mentions of magic bullshit violence/death/ghosts Summary: Hakuryuu stumbles upon a dead amusement park, now inhabited by the ghosts of past patrons, magical creatures, and Judal, a former employee who PROBABLY should have died from all the bullshit he did in the park after hours. Hakuryuu is clued into the world of magic and has run from his mother's magical cult, with plans to gather power and fight back.

FIC 005 Ships: Sinbad/Ja'far Characters: Ja’far, Sinbad, and a small orphan girl... Rating: Not Currently Sure Warnings: Graphic Violence Additional Warnings: I’m not entirely sure what I want to do yet in terms of darker content, but there could potentially be disturbing themes or imagery, as well as physical harm to either an animal or a child... Summary: In the wake of loss, Ja’far finds himself incapable of moving on in his life. Drakon, concerned by his lack of self care, relieves him of his work and insists he travel. Upon heading to the only land untouched by his former fiancé’s legacy, however, Jafar learns he can’t truly outrun his despair. Mistania, instead of a new start, brings him a stranger with the exact face and voice of a man he once thought dead. Now, set into the turmoil following a revolution, he’s on the run with an amnesiac, a dog, and refugee princess. What has his life become... Longer summary/planning document can be found here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Az6dKCZOM3hQkAtzvWo-VsK9MkjiSvqfVkOIE7_N1qE

FIC 006 Ships: Kouen/Judal, Sinbad/Ja'far Characters: Kouen, Judal, Gyokuen, Kougyoku, Kouha, Koumei, Hakuryuu, Hakuei, Sinbad, Ja'far Rating: T Warnings: No Major Archive Warnings Apply Additional Warnings: None Summary: When the only way to access his inheritance is to get married, Kouen has to turn to Judal, his right-hand man. Kouen will do anything to protect his family, but falling in love with his new husband makes it just a bit more complicated.

FIC 007 Ships: Gyokuen/Hakutoku Characters: Gyokuen, Arba, Hakutoku Rating: M Warnings: No Major Archive Warnings Apply Additional Warnings: Some sexual content, unsure of how explicit it will be Summary: Growing up as an orphan, Gyokuen wanted nothing more than to have a family of her own. But being a person who regularly starts fights, it was unlikely for her to get married. That is, until a traveller named 'Toku' expressed interest after she beat him in a fight. But that was just the beginning of her problems as soon, a curse her family had been harboring comes to haunt her, the very same curse why she was abandoned in the first place. And that curse has a name; 'Arba.' As time went on, 'she' claimed more and more of her family's lives and Gyokuen cannot do anything but watch as she killed them with her own hands.

FIC 008 Ships: SoloShe, AlaKou Characters: Aladdin, Kougyoku, Solomon, Sheba Rating: G Warnings: No Major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: none Summary: Post-Final Arc! It shouldn't have been possible, but in front of Aladdin stood King Solomon and Queen Sheba. Something gone wrong with the Rukh, but Aladdin's just happy he gets to meet his parents.

FIC 009 Ships: Gen, with some Badr/Esra Characters: Sinbad, Kil, Yamuraiha, Maader Um Mariadel, Falan, Arba, Ja'far, Badr, Esra, Fatima, Masrur, Mystras Rating: T Warnings: No Archive Warnings apply Additional Warnings: Canon typical violence, abuse, guns, starvation, eating disorder mention Summary: Thousands of years after the events of Magi, Sinbad was reborn and lives his life as a High-school student in New Remano. When he meets a mysterious girl with a link to a past that he cannot remember and discovers a plot against him he must fight to stop history from repeating.

FIC 010 Ships: no ships expected, potential for otome game style harem teases Characters: Kassim, Kouen, Koumei, Kouha, Hakuryuu Rating: T Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort Summary: Kassim lives and stays in Balbadd as it's reformed by the Kou Empire, which has moved in as canon. He approaches the princes to change Balbadd back and ends up working with them (begrudgingly) to aid Balbadd's integration. This allows him to interact with them, his own people, and help work out the hidden scars of the royal family. Now that he's finally talked to his own family, he doesn't want to see the one in charge of his home destroy themselves and everything around them.

FIC 011 Ships: Gen, maybe some ship tease for Ja'far/Masrur, Ja'far/Drakon, and obviously, Ja'far/Judar. I suppose there could also be hints of Ja'far/Sinbad, due to some reminiscing about the past--however, I want the artist to know that I am trying to write Ja'far as a person who is learning to become more independent and self-motivated, rather than motivating himself with Sinbad's goals and pining constantly for Sinbad's return. Characters: Ja'far, Judar, and supporting/somewhat major roles from every ex-general of Sindria. Any other characters would have brief appearances. Rating: T Warnings: Graphic Violence (canon-typical) Additional Warnings: Canon-typical violence Summary: The world has changed and there's work to be done. With the shifted landscape, changes in leadership, and the departure of a certain king, there's a never-ending stream of challenges to be overcome. Oh, and the brat magi of Kou has up and vanished without a word of warning. Well, Ja'far is sure they can do without. Like with all cockroaches, he's a pest that always turns up eventually. And besides--he's far more concerned about the black cat he stumbled upon in the gardens, found wounded and mewling in hunger. Sure, its personality is a bit aggressive, and it claws him every time he tries to pet it, but that's only natural for such a frail, scared little animal, likely separated and lost from its mother. And he's always had a soft spot for cats, as Drakon would say… The first chapter will be from Ja'far's perspective and the rest is Judar begrudgingly witnessing the events through his cat body and getting used to his short bout as a cat. Basically, this fic will explore the changed/re-emerging relationships between Ja'far and the other ex-generals after the end of the final arc, and will attempt to explain how Judar and Ja'far--two polar opposites that fell in hate at first sight some years ago--reach a mutual understanding and tolerance of one another in this new world. I definitely do see this as a multi-chapter fic that will stretch beyond 10k words and the required scope of Big Bang!

FIC 012 Ships: Gen Characters: Hakuryuu Rating: Not currently sure Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: Canon Death, and Canon Violence Summary: Hakuryuu wondered what his place was with his family before his family massacre as he was the youngest son. Even now with his new siblings, he still struggles to find a place among them. With meeting Alibaba and the other he felt as if he had finally gain a place where he can be himself but again he stuggled to find himself accepting the hand he was dealt and goes off with Judar.

FIC 013 Ships: Gen, potential background sphintitus Characters: aladdin, ja'far, scheherazade, yunan, ugo (as a cat), yamuraiha Rating: T Warnings: No major archive warnings apply Additional Warnings: this deals w the aftermath of living under the influence of a cult, so certain gaslighting/brainwashing/false worship fall under it. specific ptsd, possibly, and panic attacks, with adjusting to normal society. Summary: modern au. deals with aladdin, after the cult al thamen is disbanded, and the only life he's ever known getting thrown on its head.

#magi big bang #magibb2019 #mod post #fic summaries

15 notes · View notes

scaryscarecrows · 6 years ago

Text

Roots and Leaves

Eh, I liked this arc. Or. The pain this arc inflicted on people. :) ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN TO TRAGEDY TOWN, SUCKERS!

There’s rain above him, turning the dirt to slick mud that just keeps slipping through his fingers.

God no please not like this not like this-

He can’t breathe.

He can’t breathe and he knows that not a foot away is air-salvation-life, but he can’t breathe now and-and-

Please not like this-

And his fingers finally breach the topsoil, scrambling in the mud, blood drying in the wind.

* * *

A week earlier…

Jason suspects this wasn’t his brightest idea. Though, really, when your criteria for ‘should I?’ is ‘is it as bad as chasing after the Joker by myself?’…well…you get a lotta leeway, okay? Not many things are that bad.

Besides, it wasn’t for himself.

Okay, so it was a little bit, but not a lot, and…yeah, it was seventy-five percent case and twenty-five percent ‘has Bruce revoked my access yet?’

Answers: he found his perp in Bruce’s database, and he still has access to the Batcomputer’s (why is everything you own Bat-something, B, huh? How old are you, four?) files. Huh, look at that, B’s a sentimental bastard after all. Or he just spaced. That’s more likely. New Robin to train and all that.

Whatever.

He got a bit distracted, testing how far his access went, and ended up in his own files, because he’s a little morbidly curious as to what it says about…about. Y’know.

It was all so clinical, to the surprise of none. Bruce had apparently gone over that tape with a fine-toothed comb like the obsessive bastard he’s always been, and the only things missing were internal injuries and a few of the more subtle-yet-permanent damages like his shoulders. Things that aren’t obvious when you’re sitting quietly in a chair.

Fucker. Jason’s still wondering if Bruce spent more time cataloging the damn tape than he spent looking for him.

He’d been about to click out (he doesn’t want to drive all the way to Wayne Manor to punch Bruce in the face, he doesn’t, he swears on his own unused grave) when he’d spotted the ‘leads’ tab.

Eh. He probably put it there in case Alfred was looking over his shoulder or somethin’. Like bringing up a Wikipedia article when you were about to get busted playing Solitaire instead of working on your essay.

But Jason’d clicked on it, and, well…

Well.

It’s more extensive than he’d thought. He’s not sure how to feel about that. Bruce had been close, a couple’a times-questioned the right guards, even, if he’d just questioned ‘em again a month or two later, after the Joker bought ‘em off…

He hopes that fact keeps him up at night.

He continues to scroll. Lotta dead ends, lotta close calls, lotta where the hell did you get THAT idea? And he’s just about to sign out when his eyes flash across, of all places, the school Bruce’d left him at for all of three days after he caught him with that tire iron in hand.

Wasn’t that place closed?

Apparently not. Wow. Only in Gotham, man, only in Gotham-what’s that?

It’s a link to the ‘genetics’ page Bruce made him fill out at the very beginning. He’s still torn between finding a little creepy and admitting that it’s kinda practical. What’s interesting about it now, though, is that there’s been some editing done.

What the hell? Did some long-lost relative crop up? An amnesiac or something?

Sheila Haywood, the name reads. And next to it, relation-mother.

What? He feels his lips hitch up in that stupid rabbit-expression (he can’t help it, SHUT UP) he gets when he’s really confused. Mom (?) used to laugh and call him Bugs.

This makes no sense at all. Bruce must’a had a period of insanity or somethin’. He has exactly two parents (well, three and a half-Alfred counts as something and Bruce…once upon a time, maybe…), and this Sheila Haywood is not one of them. He even looks a bit like Catherine-same hair, same eyes.

But.

But Willis had those features too, didn’t he.

Jason shoves the laptop away from him and takes a few deep breaths. This is ridiculous. Bruce makes mistakes. Obviously-look at him, huh? This is one he hasn’t caught, that’s all. Hasn’t looked further because there’s no reason to look further. Sheila probably just…maybe she came forward looking for money or something, that’s a thing. Happens all the time.

He pulls the laptop back, after a few minutes, and opens the file. It’s not a big one-name, birthday, picture (he doesn’t look like her, she’s blonde and bright-eyed and pretty) and…associates.

Joker. Ah. That relationship is over, according to Bruce-there had been blackmail involved. Well, there’s that lead explained. Dead end, too. She’d been free of the clown for over a year, before Jason ever…

Bruce is mistaken. That’s all. Willis knew a lotta people, for fuck’s sake, he’d never been…Mom had always been upset. Y’know.

His hands are shaking and he doesn’t know why. This isn’t anything. This is a mistake, Bruce makes them all the time. Look at him. God, look at…look at Babs, if Bruce hadn’t made the mistake of givin’ Joker a thousand and one chances, she wouldn’t be…

Sheila Haywood smiles awkwardly at him from her driver’s license picture. The last time Bruce updated this file was…maybe six months after he disappeared. At the time, she’d been living in a middle-income apartment close to Gotham General-her place of work, apparently.

What does it matter anyway, huh? Catherine was his mom, even at the end when she barely recognized him anymore. And she hadn’t done somethin’ stupid enough to get Joker-blackmail, either. So there.

He mashes the little red ‘X’ in the corner and flings himself backwards to reach his bottle of Fanta (Fanta, don’t ya want-a?). Fucking Bruce. Why does he have to leave that kinda stuff lyin’ around, huh? It’s over. It’s done. Archive it or whatever and find somethin’ new to brood over. Like Dick’s poor fashion choices. (His hair’s growing dangerously near mullet territory again…if he steps one spandex-clad toe into Crime Alley, Jason’s tackling him and taking an electric razor to that before it can evolve into its final form. Never again. Gotham doesn’t deserve that.) Priorities, old man. Priorities.

His Fanta’s half-flat and he scowls, blames Bruce for distracting him and making him forget to drink it while it was still bubbly, and takes a sad swig anyway.

As it turns out, the Fanta isn’t all that flat and with his head hanging partly off the couch, it, uh, gets near his nose. The fizzy feeling makes him gag and jam his tongue against the roof of his mouth to try and stop it.

He should’ve just had tea. Soda’s too much risk.

He sets the bottle aside, glares at it so it knows its blame, and stretches. There’s a neat pop-pop-pop along his spine, followed by a nasty knock in his right hip that forces a startled gasp out of him, and then blessed silence.

Well. For Gotham. Somebody’s screaming at somebody in traffic below.

Never change…

Mom used to shut the window, even if that made it stifling inside. Said she didn’t want Jason picking up any of those words. Joke was on her, a little bit-the ancient Russian lady that used to watch him now and then taught him everything he ever needed to know. Bruce…had not been enthused when Jason’s ‘I know Russian!’ turned out to mean ‘I know how to tell you, your dog, and your mother-in-law to fuck a rotten egg in Russian!’

What? He hadn’t specified.

His computer glows at him, the background of Jane Austen’s signature looking starker than ever, and he lets his head fall completely off the couch, feels the blood start rushing to it.

Sheila Haywood is, uh, Joker-free now, right? Not working with Harley Quinn or whatever? Harley can be scary as fuck when she wants to be.

It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it is completely irrelevant to him. Bruce made a mistake. It happens. Or the Replacement had that idea. Or Dick. Yes. That’s all.

But he’s still going to check, because he always checks on past Joker associates, in case they’re sleepers or anything. Look at that one infected guy…Henry or whatever.

S’a matter of public safety. That’s all.

#Jason Todd #Sheila Haywood #Jason's curiosity is going to get him into trouble one of these days #Arkhamverse #sort of #you know me I mash canons together into a canon meatloaf #Roots and Leaves

25 notes · View notes

grayzaweek · 6 years ago

Text

Friends to Lovers

Crossing over one threshold to another was something not entirely unexpected to someone within Fairy Tail’s ranks. New members came, old members left, new missions were taken, old missions finished. The clientele changed every day. The guild itself, while somewhat stable, was a whirlwind of activity and change. People grew older, gained new experiences, and sometimes altered in a way that was irreversible. Sometimes this was good. Increased strength, a more open mind, a settled conscience. Sometimes it wasn’t so good. Painful pasts remembered, betrayals made, injustices never forgotten.

The guild, as Erza knew it, was all about change.

Natsu had grown ever stronger. Sometimes she wondered when he would stop, but the fire mage just seemed to always improve. Wherever a line was drawn to limit his strength, he somehow overcame it. It was as though some force kept him exponentially improving. Perhaps it was his will that he do so.

Lucy had grown into her role as a caregiver to spirits. Once shy and meek, she now stood side-by-side with those she had once been hesitant to call upon. She had a strong soul and a kind manner that only seemed to grow. She also lost a great deal of the patience she had shown in the beginning. Though, mused Erza, that patience had been more attributed to how curious and lost she had been in the early days and less to a trait she had possessed prior to admittance into the guild. Either way, it helped her to keep up with the guild and its ever changing nature.

Juvia had grown as well. While she still espoused that her destiny was controlled by her magics, she seemed much more easily given to friendship and did a better job attempting to understand others. Except for Gray. Despite how she tried, she never quite understood the man she had chased for so long.

Gray. Now that was the man of the hour, and the reason she had begun to think of change in the first place. So much had changed between the two of them. It had begun with the changes she had found in Jellal.

Jellal’s change in the guild had been…turbulent, at the very best. In his amnesiac state, he could have been happy with a normal life. He could have welcomed it, but upon his memory’s return, he had decided that it wasn’t worth the hassle. More accurately, that he wasn’t worth the hassle. He had remembered his burdens and, upon deciding that they were quite hefty indeed, had left to carry them alone. The queen’s pardon had given him freedom to leave, and he had. Content to wallow in his guilt and atone in any way he saw fit, the man had left. Their parting had…not been good.

Erza had required a change to move on from Jellal. She had placed many of her hopes on a future together with him only to have it all fall apart before her very eyes. It had taken several months and much encouragement from all of her dear friends in the guild. Everyone had been kind, and she had noticed the changes everyone underwent in this time frame. She, eventually, changed too.

Now, whenever she thought of Jellal, she thought that perhaps he would find his atonement somewhere. She no longer dwelt on past fights and cold arguments, the pleading for him to stay or the begging that things could have worked out. Now, whenever she thought of him, she thought that perhaps he would live the life he thought he deserved to live, and that perhaps he could be content with having lived it. With the amount of change that surrounded them all, she believed it would be bound to happen. That peace may eventually find him someday. She wished him well, but never more and never less. Her own change had been in moving forward.

What she did not expect, however, were her emotions being stirred again only two months after having successfully moved on from Jellal.

Not that Gray was a bad man to fall for, oh no. On the contrary, he was loyal and determined, steadfast and strong. He had the courage to stand up against orders he disagreed with and the respect to do so immediately. There were not many who dared to challenge her on the rare accounts that she needed to be challenged or her plans needed to be changed, but he had come to do so. And she appreciated it.

Not that this was new information to her. Gray had been like that for a long while now. When they had met, he had refused to let her be and challenged her daily. Upon viewing her vulnerabilities, he’d taken greater care with them. That had probably been their first change into friendship. When she’d become an S-class mage, the respect he had shown for her had seemed to double as well as his training. Another change.

Changes like this had been slow and steady. She had watched him grow and improve as well. He got a little cocky with his ice magic, but she knew that his pride was well-founded.

But that wasn’t romantic. That was respect and admiration for a close friend.

No, the romantic had come only a small time afterwards. It had been a change, just a little one.

“Good work today.”

“You, too.”

She and Gray were walking to the train station, where they would pick up tickets and head back to the guild. After a mission such as theirs, both couldn’t wait to sit and rest for a few hours. Erza turned to look around and was suddenly face-to-face with a patisserie.

The display window showcased a beautiful strawberry cake.

She turned to ask Gray if he would mind her making the stop, but to her surprise, he was already turning towards the shop. Before she could ask, he grinned.

“I saw you looking.”

“And what if I didn’t want cake this time?”

“You always want cake. It’s one of those things that make you you.”

It wasn’t a secret that she adored cake, particularly of the strawberry variety. One would be hard-pressed to keep her away from it and most members of the guild knew it. So his perception wasn’t off, nor was the fact that he perceived that she would want to detour to get some off.

He’d noticed the patisserie as she did. Before she had to ask, he had already been angling for it on her account. But as heartwarming as that had been for her, and it had been fairly heartwarming, that was just one little change among a sea of many.

“We can’t let them get away!”

“We won’t!”

It was another mission. Several weeks after the last. Gray and Erza had dashed ahead, leaving Natsu and Lucy behind for only a moment. The former was helping the latter to stand after a surprise trap, and both Gray and Erza knew that the sooner the culprits were caught, the better.

Gray stopped in his tracks to turn the ground to ice. Erza expected the move and switched to gliding over the ice easily. The perpetrators, not so much.

Before they had time to orient themselves properly, Erza had knocked the two henchmen to the ground and tackled the leader. The downed henchmen soon found their feet captured in ice.

When Gray caught up to them, they were attempting to free their frozen feet by scratching at the ice. It was useless, but it gave Erza a thought.

“Why not bind their hands as well? It would have been less trouble.”

Gray shrugged as he lazily approached. “We want to catch ‘em, not give ‘em hypothermia. ‘Sides, they’re just pickpockets that got too greedy. It’ll be up to the client to decide how they want to deal with their actions.”

Erza nodded, conceding the point. Typical pickpockets were susceptible enough to magic as it was; add the unnatural cold to their predicament and they could have risked damaging the targets too much to be put to trial for their actions. She and Gray pulled out the rope they’d brought along and strung the goons together, preparing for a quick delivery to the client. Natsu and Lucy caught up to them then.

“Aw, you guys could have spared some for us,” complained Natsu. Erza watched Gray grin.

“Not my fault you’re a slowpoke.”

“Why you—!”

“Lucy! How you doing? These guys didn’t hurt you too bad?” called Gray, seemingly to ignore the angry Natsu he’d incited. Relieved, Lucy called back.

“No, I’m fine. They just surprised me is all, no lasting damage!”

“You sure?” asked Gray. Erza watched him turn his gaze from Lucy to Natsu and grin. “We could let one of these guys go and sic Natsu on him. Maybe it’ll make him feel better.”

“You wanna go, ice princess?!”

“You’re on, flame breath!”

“All right, that’s enough you two,” said Erza, deciding to intervene. “We need to take these hooligans back to town. Then we can all go home.”

The team murmured in agreement and they prepared to get underway when Erza noticed Lucy wobbling. She came alongside the girl. “Are you injured?”

“Sorry,” said Lucy, seeming genuine. “I thought I could walk it off, but it looks as though the trap made me hurt my ankle.”

Erza inspected the damage done to Lucy’s foot. The ankle was swollen slightly and she was obviously favoring it. Erza frowned as she looked into her pack for supplies. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Sorry.”

Erza rummaged around, but couldn’t find an ice pack anywhere in her bag. She did, however, find a bit of cloth. “Hey, would anyone gather some—oh.”

The ice had already been removed from the battlefield, likely due to Gray’s control over his abilities. He and Natsu were standing guard over the prisoners when they heard her call. “Sup?” asked the former.

“I need some ice for Lucy’s ankle. I thought there was still some on the ground I could wrap in this rag.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Gray and Natsu dragged the criminals closer with them so they could look at Lucy’s injury. Both men frowned. “You’re not walking like that.”

“I can carry her,” offered Natsu. “It’s not that long a walk anyhow.”

“Works for me,” said Gray. He passed his rope to Erza, which she exchanged for the rag she’d brought out. He pressed his hands together and, when he pulled them apart, a sizeable chunk of ice was created. He wrapped this up in the rag Erza had given him and then tied it sturdily onto Lucy’s ankle. He flinched when she winced. “Think you can deal with this until we get you a better ice pack in town?”

“Yeah,” said Lucy. “Thank you, Gray.”

“No problem,” said the man as he took Natsu’s end of the rope from him. Natsu gathered Lucy up to carry on his back, Gray and Erza each had a hold of the rope that would carry the thieves, and they were off.

That mission had been full of behaviors Gray was typical of. Quick thinking to keep the bandits from getting away or moving too far once captured. Seamless teamwork with friends. Genuine care for all of his friends, even when he fights with Natsu. Improvisational skills.

None of this was news to Erza. She had been aware of all of this, it was one of the reasons she trusted him as she did. He was a good man and everyone knew it. But for some reason, on that day, it seemed to strike a different chord with her.

It had sparked a change within her.

“Yo, Erza.”

It was Gray. She had been adamant not to change her daily routine, despite the fact that being in Gray’s presence was now…different. Not good different, not bad different. Just…vastly different.

And despite how normal him running into her at the cafeteria was, it felt entirely too different. Too new, somehow. An old action, a familiar action, charged with this strange new and budding feeling.

“Gray.” She was too good at sounding normal for her own good sometimes. This, she decided, was a time that it was necessary. “How was your mission?”

“Same old, same old,” he said. “Some fifth-rate sorcerer gets a bit of power and decides he’s gonna be top dog.”

“Fifth rate?” asked Erza, amused by the odd terminology.

“Wasn’t good enough to be third rate.”

Erza chuckled at the joke. She should have seen it coming, but surprisingly hadn’t. She would have wondered more at it, had it not been for her noticing Gray’s expression. Eyebrows lifted slightly, mouth slightly agape. She felt suddenly self-concious.

“What?” she asked. “Is something the matter?”

“N-no.” Gray coughed into his hand, which made Erza sure that something was probably wrong anyways. “Don’t worry about it.”

She examined him for a moment more, wondering whether or not to pry. His health was quite important and she didn’t want him getting sick after a mission. Hopefully, he’d take a few days to recuperate.

It was the first day she’d noticed, albeit belatedly, a change within him as well. While his kind aspects had only drawn more of her attention and while she had begun to view him a bit differently, it seemed that his behaviors seemed to shift as well.

It was little things at first. Whenever he entered a conversation, he would glance towards her before everyone else. She had to thank Mira for that observation, because attempting to disprove it had become impossible. And then it came to pass that he would enter the conversation beside her. Standing, sitting, it didn’t matter. If he wanted into a conversation she was a part of, he would arrive near her. She didn’t mind. In fact, she enjoyed the proximity. It went on like that for a month.

And then came the day concerning their hands. It seemed almost trivial, considering that they often used each other’s bodies as weapons or threw one another in a battle, but one day she had an urge to reach out and touch his hand. An urge she simply could not deny.

Come on, Erza, she thought to herself, trying valiantly not to stare at it. You’ve held it before in combat. Why is this so different?

But she knew why this time was different than the others. This time, she wanted to hold his hand just because she wanted to. There was no enemy to defeat, no reason to lead him or have him lead her. There was nothing to force it. She just wanted to know what the feel of his hand would be in hers.

A portion of her told herself that she was being ridiculous. This was Gray. He was her dearest friend and someone she could openly ask if he were going to strip to sleep. There was no embarrassment around him.

And yet, here she was, shy.

The thought intrigued and irritated her. Intrigued because this… awkwardness was something she would have never foreseen. Irritated because she had taken so long that now he was looking at her quizzically.

Crap.

“Need something, Erza?”

Okay, think… She looked around for a moment, then, struck by brilliance, she answered. “Actually, Gray, I was wondering something.”

“What?”

“Are your hands cold?”

The blank look he had on his face was a force to be reckoned with. Equal parts adorable and intimidating (she would not lose to this bout of shyness), she faced against it bravely.

“You’re an ice mage. Doesn’t the magic you wield ever cause your hands to become cold?”

“I…don’t think so?” he said, pulling his own hand to look. He stretched his fingers as if thinking about it for the first time. He then put his hand down and grinned over at her. “Why? You wanna check?”

“I would, actually.”

Gray slipped on the chair he was sitting on. It almost clattered to the ground and Erza wondered if perhaps the idea was not welcome to him. Given what she had observed… what she’d been told… maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to make decisions based on Mira’s ob—

“Well… here.” Gray presented his hand to her, palm up. He was once again seated in his chair, his eyes staring at her determinedly. His cheeks had a pink pallor to them that she had not noticed before. “You can check. If you want.”

Erza wanted to wonder at the pause in his voice, but she wasn’t about to back down now. Carefully, she placed her fingers atop Gray’s.

“Holy shit, Gray!” she exclaimed as soon as she touched his skin. Her hand clasped atop Gray’s quickly. “Are your fingers always this cold?”

“err… I don’t…know?”

Erza began to rub the ice mage’s fingertips to warm them, hoping to get blood circulating into them. “It feels like you’ve just put them in ice-cold water. What did you just do?”

“Nothing! I didn’t do nothing!”

Erza glared up at Gray, whose eyes had widened and he had that ‘look’ in his eye. That ‘please don’t catch me at what I’m doing’ look. He’d had the look ever since they were kids. It never changed. She glared a moment longer, then released the glare. Instead, she focused on warming her friend’s fingertips between her hands.

“Honestly…”

Ever since then, Erza had made sure to grab his hand whenever she was around. Sometimes his fingers were absolutely frigid. Sometimes they weren’t so much. The latter tended to happen when he hadn’t seen her coming.

So she had known he was using his ice magic to make his fingers cold, but the question she had asked herself was why. It had taken an embarrassingly long time to figure out, and even longer to confront him about it.

“Gray.”

“Oh, hey Erza. Jeez, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Nonsense, consider this training in stealth detection.”

“Oh, come on. Really?”

“Of course.” Being in front of him, seeing him so relaxed, almost made her reconsider her idea of a direct confrontation. But then she saw his fingers and knew, almost immediately, that they were ice cold to the touch. She looked at his face, which sported that too-innocent expression.

“So… need something?”

“Yes,” she said. She confidently took his hand—a few weeks’ practice had made the motion second-thought—and pulled it up between them. “There are times I actually wish to hold your hand and not find your fingers freezing.”

Gray’s shoulders seemed to tense, and his not-so-innocent expression seemed to strengthen. “I—I…”

“Of course,” she continued, lowering their hands again. She loosened her fingers around his. “I will never encroach on your personal space if you don’t wish me to. Just ask me to let go and I will.”

A moment passed and her heart thundered in her ears. She wanted to squeeze his fingertips gently. To comfort herself, to tell him something, she wasn’t sure. But she kept them loose. This was his turn to respond and she would be patient.

When she felt Gray’s wrist turn, she almost tore her hand off his. She never wanted to do anything he wouldn’t have wanted. But then his fingers enclosed on hers and he gave her fingers a soft squeeze.

“What gave me away?” he asked. Erza chuckled.

“You’re an exceptionally talented ice mage. This was probably child’s play to you.” She heard Gray give a weak chuckle in return before she glared at him. “Next time, though, perhaps nothing that can give you hypothermia and risk having your fingers fall off?”

That had begun the awkward phase of hand holding and stolen glances. It had begun both of them realizing that the other wanted a little more than friendship, but not entirely sure what that was. They became almost joined at the hip, but painfully quiet as they each contemplated what was going on.

Thank goodness that had only lasted a few days.

Another awkward day. Another awkward conversation.

Erza sighed. When she had realized she wanted to be closer to Gray, she wanted to be physically and emotionally closer, not just physically. She almost wanted to go back to normal so long as they could have a good talk about everything. No embarrassment, no awkwardness. Just the two of them, able to talk about anything and everything.

A knock her front door interrupted her thoughts. She invited the person in. Whoever they were, they were friendly. Elsewise, her security system would have activated.

“Erza?”

She briefly thought about pretending she wasn’t in, but that was cowardly. And she wasn’t a coward. Neither was Gray. He deserved better than that.

“In the back.”

She heard him approach and set her hair brush down. She needed to look him in the eye for this. Whatever ‘this’ was. She turned around as he entered through the doorway.

Anyone who gave him a once-over would assume nothing to be wrong. And they themselves would be wrong. Erza saw the way he hung himself, as though looking battered from a war. She saw the slight circles under his eyes, an indication of little sleep. She saw him, just as he probably saw her and her weariness.

“Hey—”

“You look—”

Both of them looked at each other, mouths agape.

“Sorry, why don’t—”

“My bad, you can—”

Again they stopped. Again they stared. And Erza gestured that he go first. He rose an eyebrow, so she gestured again. He cleared his throat.

“Erza, what are we doing?”

Direct, beyond reproach. She appreciated the blunt question. Blunt questions were easier to answer than coded questions, but this one, for all its blunt language, seemed so complex. So uncertain. Its subject matter seemed so unsteady and subjective.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Erza took a deep breath and exhaled. She pushed her hand through her hair and gave it a little ruffle. The movement on her head helped her to think and come up with the sentiment she wanted to express and the words she wanted to use to express it.

“Gray, I’ve had…feelings for you. They’ve grown beyond the scope I thought they would reach until I simply had to act on them. I’ve been acting on them. Some of them. You’ve seemed receptive, so…”

The answer seemed so vague at best, downright cryptic at worst. She exhaled sharply, frustrated. There had to be a better way to phrase it. “I like you, Gray, as more than a close friend should and I would like to express it. I’ve been attempting to figure out how best to do that.”

He seemed to absorb that answer little better than the first. But it was far less cryptic and vague than the first, so she supposed she it would suffice for now. She waited for a moment as he absorbed what she’d said before she returned with a question of her own.

“And you, Gray?” she asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. “What do you think this—” She gestured to the two of them “—is?”

The man stood silent for a moment and Erza understood the pause. It was a difficult question, but one that needed to be answered. For both of their sakes.

“What I think…is that I’ve…had feelings for you for a long time. It feels like your reciprocation kinda came out of nowhere and I feel confused. Before we do anything we might regret, I think I want to know where we both stand on this.”

It was an honest answer and a reasonable request. They both had their hearts out on the line here, and these sorts of things needed to be discussed before they did anything too hastily. She took a moment to reflect.

That moment felt as though it had stretched for eternity. She took care to sift through her feelings, through her motivations. Did she simply want to get closer to Gray on a platonic level, or did she want more? While he had said he had feelings for a long time, she also understood that his bluntness was meant in no way to influence her decision. He was being honest and up-front with her, and she felt it best that she do the same to him. He deserved nothing less.

“The feelings I have for you have been building for some time. I am unsure when they truly began, only that they have intensified until this point and they only continue to grow. From where I stand, I want to be with you. I still want to hold your hand, but I also want more. I want a semblance of what we had back—to be able to talk and discuss anything openly and freely. But I also want to be able to spend free time together, kiss, and eventually reach a point where we can be comfortable together and with these feelings.

“I want to love you, Gray, if that’s what you want, too.”

Erza had kept her eyes up and directly focused on Gray during the course of her explanation. About halfway through, his entire face had begun to redden, and by the end he was attempting to hide that same redness behind his hand. He fidgeted from foot to foot and he made a strange sound from the back of his throat.

Concerned for his health, she stood and came closer. “Gray, are you all right?”

He nodded rapidly.

“Do you need some water?”

He shook his head.

“Do you need to sit down?”

A pause. She took that as a yes and steered him into her room, easing him onto the chair she had occupied a moment before. She, for her part, decided to sit on the bed in front of him. For some reason, his eyes widened at that. Her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Are you sure you’re not thirsty?”

Another pause. Maybe he really needed water after all. She made to get up, but she was halted by a slight pressure on her hand. It was warm. Gray had reached across to stop her from moving. She sat back down to give him some time. Maybe he was just thinking instead. That was fine, she could wait.

“Do you mean it?” asked he. He was using a voice she had never heard him use before, but was so Gray that it warmed her heart anyways.

“I do not say what I do not mean.”

Gray’s other hand trembled as it made its way to her face. The touch was so soft that it surprised her, but the warmth spread through her like a fire. She raised her own hand to keep it there. She could feel her heart thrumming in her ears, and she was sure if she listened harder, she would hear his fluttering through his very fingertips.

“Erza,” said Gray. For all the hesitance in his actions, his voice seemed strong. “I want you to know that you’re the luckiest thing to ever happen to me. What I’ve felt for you…it’s been there for a long while and it’s only gotten stronger with time. I want to love you like you should be loved, treat you like you deserve to be treated.

“And I want to kiss the hell out of you right now.”

A multitude of emotions swept over her. Surprise, for she didn’t expect Gray to have been so bold so quickly; shock, for much of the same; excitement, for she hadn’t kissed anyone before; and…most of all…

Gray winced at what must have crossed over her face. “Too much too soon?”

“No,” she rasped, squeezing her fingers over his. She was gentle, but insistent. “Kiss me.”

When his lips brushed against hers, when their teeth bumped each other awkwardly as first kisses often do, when they kept going and couldn’t stop, when they eventually found their rhythm, she knew the final emotion she’d felt sweep her at the sound of his statement.

Desire.

They’d come so far since that point. They’d had their fights, their ups, their downs. They’d had their disagreements, they’d had their celebrations. Their relationship had been so full of change, just as the guild they remained a part of.

So, she wondered as she carried the ring in her pocket, unknowing of its twin in her boyfriend’s, she wondered just how much would change after tonight.

Well, she supposed as she left the house to meet up with him. We’ll see.

#amynchan #grayza #grayzaweek #grayza week #grayzaweek2018 #submission #fanfiction #day 5: friends to lovers #day 5

25 notes · View notes

diddykongfan · 7 years ago

Text

(my heart is a kaleidoscope)

arc one, dark kingdom/dark curse, 2/?

draws a bit from 1x02 The Thing You Love Most, but the further we get into the story the less it’s going to resemble OUAT season one. No monster fighting this time around, but Graham makes a brief non-Tuxedo Mask appearance with his own POV section, and... Regina makes herself useful with exposition?

Mysterious Attack on Local Store

Last night, at the jewelers on Maple Lane, multiple witnesses reported a strange woman attacking them in what is presumed to be an attempted robbery. No official description of the attacker has been released, nor has there yet been anything reported missing. Credit for stopping the attack has been given to an unknown savior calling herself Sailor Moon…

She made the front page of the paper.

It was hardly her intention, and yet— There it is, staring her in the face. There’s even a picture. It’s grainy as hell, her face impossible to make out, but it’s still there. To be fair, people getting attacked is news, probably pretty major news in a small town like this, but still – where had that picture even come from? She hadn’t seen any cameras around. And the angle isn’t right for a security camera in the store itself, not that the police would be likely to release any images from that this soon after the incident. Especially not if they were still investigating to see if anything had actually been stolen, like the paper claimed the incident was supposed to have been.

If she was anyone in this town, some random person who didn’t know exactly what had happened, she would at the very least suspect herself of being either the attacker or the one to fend them off – being a total stranger whose arrival coincided with this happening, and all. Which is why it’s a surprise, then, that not one person has given her so much as an obvious second glance all morning, as she had made her way from the B&B to the diner, sat herself at the counter and picked up someone else’s discarded newspaper. But, she hasn’t even heard a whisper about it, about the incident at all, despite its status as front page news — though if Henry is right about everything and his adoptive mother was the Evil Queen to cast the curse, her visit to Emma’s room with a basket of apples and a thinly-veiled “get out of town” may indicate that she, of all the people in town to have possibly caught on, at least suspects. Also, it hasn’t exactly been long, and she hasn’t exactly encountered many people as of yet. It very likely is gossip, and it’s entirely possible the reason she hasn’t heard about it from any word of mouth is exactly because she’s the stranger in town.

Beyond that, she has other things on her mind, and it is just as entirely possible that the reason she hasn’t heard anything is because she’s been too distracted by her thoughts to listen as well as she should.

Because, well, truth be told, Emma’s still considering the possibility of getting out of town rather than letting herself get drawn in deeper. While the power of the transformation was undeniable, while this place is clearly a link to her unknown past… There’s something terrifying about the possibility of knowing. And, obviously, about the possibility of facing more things like Morga.

Alone.

There were four other girls in the woods that day; four people to find. Three more Guardians, and a princess. But until then? Unless the mystery man in formalwear shows up again, she’s on her own.

Not exactly an appealing thought.

But if she doesn’t stay, then what?

The attacks aren’t going to stop just because she’s not fighting; leaving will get people hurt. And as much as she’s not a mother, she couldn’t in good conscience leave the kid in the town where these attacks are happening, where he might get hurt, and he would never forgive her if she kidnapped him and ran. And that’s what it would be, kidnapping – not exactly something off her bucket list.

Meaning, logically, that she’s stuck here, in this place, fighting this fight that she didn’t even believe in less than 24 hours ago.

Staying.

At least, until she can figure out where the other girls went, figure out how to find them and convince them to come and fight alongside her, even though all they had was first names. She knows the best place to start looking is at her own records, but she hardly knows which of the others to start with, does she?

She sets the paper aside with a sigh, hands going to her temples as a headache begins to build. Overthinking and stressing herself out isn’t about to help anyone, here. Instead, she focuses on what she can do most easily, first. Find a place to stay more long term than Granny’s, and find a way to make money to live on in the meantime. She didn’t fail to notice that fighting monsters came with no monetary incentive, and there doesn’t exactly seem to be call for much bail-bonds work around this area of Maine.

Two achievable goals.

One step at a time.

…

He doesn’t remember when he found Storybrooke, exactly. He knows it’s been a while, since he arrived, but something about the town makes the days blur by, indistinguishable.

When he found it, he had been following the dreams he’s had since the day he woke in the forest, no memories, but instinctive knowledge in wilderness survival, like he’d been doing it all his life.

The dreams had been constant, a girl in shadow that he felt like he knew asking for his help.

The only constant, even as he had been found in that forest and taken in, at least for a few days, by the vacationing couple that found him. After that, it had been a revolving door of people, speaking when they thought he couldn’t hear about the coincidence of the timing and how at least the girls had names.

All these amnesiac kids in the woods, one had said, like they were all nothing but an inconvenience. As much as he had suspected, though, that one of those girls being spoken of, the ones who had names, must be the one from his dream, he had known he would have no way to find them. Instead, he had let himself drift – get through the schooling that the authority figures had insisted upon, and then… Try and find her by instinct.

The dreams hadn’t stopped or changed at all when he arrived in Storybrooke, but he still hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave – and now it’s been… He doesn’t quite know how long. He’s stuck to the woods, because he has an easier time of it away from people, but he’s still stuck around Storybrooke much longer than he intended.

But today, for the first time in a long time, his head feels almost clear as he lets his feet carry him closer into the heart of the town than he usually ventures. There’s something different, happening, an almost-imperceptible shift in the air.

A change.

And the first obvious manifestation of that change he encounters is the clock tower about the shuttered library— moving, running, ticking away like it was never stopped.

It’s been stopped as long as he’s been here.

Whatever changed, it must have been powerful, to make that happen.

He’s perhaps distracted, by the obvious change and by the clarity like he’s not felt in a long time, when the mayor’s kid – he thinks it’s the mayor’s kid, anyway – who is walking with a stranger, takes an apple from his companion and throws it without so much as looking where. And, somehow, it manages to hit him in the foot.

“Henry,” the blonde woman hisses, stopping in her tracks. The kid pauses too, before he turns to follow her gaze to him and where the apple now lays before him.

“Oh,” the boy lets out. “Um, I’m sorry, sir.”

Truth be told, he doesn’t quite know how to react. Despite the years of interacting with people that he can remember, since that couple found him, he’s simply… Not good at it. He’s fairly certain that it has something to do with why he’s so at home in the woods, but having suspicions about the root of the problem does nothing to mitigate the effects.

Still, it was obviously an accident, not intentional.

“It’s alright. Maybe pay a bit more attention to where you’re throwing things next time.”

And then they continue to walk on, the boy talking animatedly about how things are going to start changing now that you’re here, and he can’t help but wonder if… If it’s that simple. If the palpable changes in the air are simply because that woman has arrived in town.

But no, it can’t be. Can it?

…

When he finds her in the morning, Henry seems surprised to see that she didn’t run off and leave town in the middle of the night.

She had promised that she wouldn’t – it had been the only way to get the kid to go home, for the time being, since, actual real-live monster aside, his adoptive mother would be quick to realize if she took him, or, more accurately, if she let him stay with her. So she had promised to stay the night and think about longer. The kid wouldn’t know it, yet, but she’d booked a room for a week.

A week. She fights one monster and decides that a week is a suitable length of time to completely change her life – move to Storybrooke, find a job, become a hero.

She is screwed, isn’t she? And by no one’s hand but her own.

(Well. Her own, and the hand of whoever was in charge of handing out Magical Guardian Powers and picked her for the job. How did that happen? What was it that had qualified her to be Sailor Moon? There must have been something, right? Some special quality that she had possessed – even as a child, because Henry had said that the book mentioned them training, for years – that meant she was the best choice. Now, she can’t even imagine what that would have been.)

“So I think we should start with Sailor Mercury,” Henry says, when they’re almost to the gates of the school. “She’s the Guardian of Wisdom, so she’ll probably be really good to have around to help.”

“And do you have an idea which of the girls that came through with me is Mercury? Because I’m pretty sure that I can’t look her up by that name just yet.”

“Okay, no,” he admits. “Not actually. But if I had to guess? You all came from a fairy tale world. If I was going to pick a Guardian of Wisdom based off of fairy tales, I would choose Belle.”

Belle.

Yeah, that was the name of one of the others. The shy brunette who had read every book the people from the state had been willing to give her, who had been the one to ask what they were talking about when they asked if some of them had picked their names from Disney movies just to screw with the search to find out where they actually came from. The rest of them had been just as confused by the statement, and perhaps even more offended by the implication that they would lie about the one thing they remembered, but only Belle had actually had the curiosity to ask what a Disney movie even was. Or at least, the only one who cared enough to act on that curiosity. Wisdom probably isn’t a bad guess, for her, and, well, it is a place to start.

They need a good place to start. Or any place to start.

She’s still mulling it over when Henry joins the throng of other students, when his teacher makes her way over to Emma’s side, intent on a chat if the look in her eyes is anything to go by. The woman had seemed nice, kind, yesterday, and as far as Emma can tell, she cares about Henry. Every word she’d spoken had been sincere, at the least.

(And, throughout the conversation, Emma had felt a nagging sense of familiarity. Like she should or did know the woman. Still feels it now.)

“You stayed,” Mary Margaret says, but nothing about it is a question. It’s not even surprised, not in the least.

“I stayed.” Emma confirms. Not much of a conversation starter, but then, neither was the not-question.

“It’ll be good for him,” the teacher says, smiling, “Having you in his life. He’s— Yesterday, I told you about how he’s lonely. Staying for him, even if it’s only a little while, if he sees that you’re willing to do that for him… Maybe it’ll help him open up to others.”

It’s a pretty sentiment. And it’s not a question or a condemnation or even an assumption that her presence in Storybrooke is permanent – and because it’s none of those things, it’s not as uncomfortable as it could be, otherwise. Still, there’s not a lot of places she can go with it, conversation-wise, and Mary Margaret is lingering, like she feels like there’s something to be said between them.

Emma doesn’t know what it could be, but, she does know something else – this is an adult that Henry trusts. Someone who knows where he runs away to, who didn’t even seem angry that he’d stolen her credit card.

As much as she’s been forced to believe in the things he got out of that book, there’s something else that’s bothering her about it, and maybe this could be the person to ask.

“Do you know… His fairy tale thing?”

Regina had been clueless as to what she was talking about two nights ago, when she thought she was just returning the kid and leaving. But, since she might be the Evil Queen – okay, probably is – who caused all this mess, it makes sense that Henry would keep it from her. Maybe Mary Margaret…

“Yes, I do,” she agrees. “What about it?”

“He got it from that book, right? Do you know where he got the book from?”

“It was here,” the teacher’s face looks thoughtful. “In my classroom. It was sitting on his desk one morning, about a month ago. I’m still not entirely sure how he convinced me to let him actually keep it without knowing where it came from, but… I looked over it. It seemed like just a regular book of fairy tales to me. And fairy tales are about hope, and he needed hope so much. I didn’t expect him to start telling me that I’m Snow White and I’ve been cursed not to remember it.”

Snow White.

That would, according to the story as Henry’s been telling it, make her the mother of the princess that Emma’s supposed to be finding. Would mean that the last time this woman saw her child, she would have been a teenage kid, and now… And now that same girl will be a grown woman. A grown woman who’ll have made some sort of life for herself out in the world beyond Storybrooke – who knows what kind of life, but a life all the same.

It also probably means that Emma would have known her, before… All of this. When she was training, with the other girls – if she’s a Guardian to the Princess, she would have to know the princess’ mother, wouldn’t she? Which neatly explains that sense of familiarity that’s been bothering her – though it still persists, like she hasn’t quite connected all the dots just yet.

“It’s…” She can’t let on that she believes without risking people thinking she’s crazy. And considering that the whole Guardian thing comes with a costume and a code name, she’s going to edge towards secret identity, with it. “It’s a very creative theory.” The words might sound disbelieving, but they’re not dismissive. Or at least, she doesn’t mean them to be. She just… She knows that she has to protect what secrecy they have in this whole… Operation Rabbit, as Henry termed it.

“He’s a creative kid,” Mary Margaret agrees, nodding. “And that is something I like encouraging, it’s just, believing in this curse thing…”

Wouldn’t seem healthy to someone who hadn’t transformed into a Guardian of Love and Justice and fought off a monster with a tiara. Yeah. The teacher doesn’t even need to finish saying the words.

“You probably have to get to class, though,” Emma says, changing the subject, if not particularly deftly. “And I have some things I need to take care of, too, so. I’ll let you go.”

…

The only sound that echoes out is her own heels clicking across the stone floor of the vault in the mausoleum she keeps as a shrine to Daniel.

The curse, as Rumplestiltskin had given it to her, called for a sacrifice – the heart of the thing you love most. Her beloved steed hadn’t been enough, he’d said, when she had demanded to know why the curse hadn’t worked the first time she had attempted to cast it, as he implied that thing meant person.

A sacrifice she had been unable to make, as his heart had already been crushed to dust in her mother’s hands, was the entire reason she had set out to take Snow’s happiness with this curse in the first place.

She had been unwilling to find out if her father’s heart would make for an acceptable substitute, and so she had sought out a being more powerful than even the imp – Metalia. The Demon Queen. The trip to Metalia’s frozen waste of a kingdom had been far more arduous than she would have liked, but the results had been favorable; Metalia could bypass the sacrifice, given enough life energy. Could allow her to cast the curse without losing her father.

It would take time, more time than seemed strictly necessary, fourteen years, for Metalia to gather all of that energy, but there would be an added bonus – if she had been the one to cast it, Snow’s child alone would have been able to break it, in time. With Metalia’s help, the princess could not possibly do it alone. Would need the help of five others. And the likelihood of the so-called “heroes” finding a way to transport six teenagers into the Land Without Magic was… Not much of a likelihood at all, in her opinion.

It had also meant agreeing that in the realm the curse created, Metalia could feed as much as she needed to exist without true magic, but those living under her own roof were exempt, and, that was enough for her. Her father was safe, she was safe, Snow was miserable. Things could hardly be better. Even once she decided that she wanted a child, that child was safe from Metalia, under the protection of her household. There wasn’t really anything else to take into consideration – she had wanted it, and she had done it, brought a child into Storybrooke to raise, named the baby boy after her father – who, of course, had no idea all the deeds that stained her hands, being affected by the curse’s memory-altering powers, but that just made it all the more possible for them to be a happy family.

Yes, the child had started to rebel and insist that she was evil, but she would find a way to stamp that out of him, she was certain, given time.

But last night they had lost Morga. Not one of the stronger servants, that the Demon Queen had chosen to come as an energy gatherer in their new paradise, but whatever had happened, whatever the Guardian brat had done, whichever brat it was that had shown up in her town, this wasn’t good.

So, the moment she had the time, she had headed to the vault. It is her domain, but it is also where the Demon Queen sleeps while her servants work.

They would need a plan, to gather more energy, to make up for the loss of last night in its entirety. And they would need a plan, too, to get rid of this… Sailor Moon.

#gremma #reluctant magical princess #(my heart is a kaleidoscope)#dark kingdom/dark curse #look guys i finished another chapter!!

3 notes · View notes