#i chose these characters to give people as much whiplash as possible and its working

[itsdefinitely]

i've noticed a pattern

[the-beskar-alchemist]

Here we go again with my recap ramblings! Had to do a bit of nip/tuck for this one, it’s a bit lengthy.

My opinions, as I've stated before, are based on my limited knowledge of the Star Wars universe. I have NOT seen anything outside of the movie franchise, so please bear with me...

- First off I would like to express my appreciation for this episode going balls-to-the-wall with Ashoka, instead of spending an unnecessary amount of time working towards her introduction. Considering we spent two episodes just GETTING to her, the fact that it was like "BAM! There she is!" was very refreshing.

- Also I would like to thank Filoni for establishing her badassery UP FRONT, instead of having her do some sort of "Surprise! These are my special skills!" maneuver. The concept hit home on the first try, and it hit HARD.

- I know people are iffy with Rosario Dawson (I'm not that caught up on her to know the details myself), but she does bring a certain......presence, I guess......to this episode, but just as the character, not really HER specifically.  She seems more powerful when she's silent, versus when she speaks, her portrayal of the dialogue seems kinda monotone for my taste honestly. (I think it's worth mentioning that, while I understand people wish for Ashley, it would involve "black face" makeup on some levels to achieve Ashoka's skin-tone, I don't think it would've worked, no matter how skilled the makeup artists are)

- The ghastly forest makes me think of the lighting technique they used for The Half Blood Prince film

- As I've said, I have not seen the Clone Wars series, so I'm not familiar with Ashoka's animated fighting techniques, but I do love how practical she is with the lightsabers in a dark setting, turning them off to avoid too much attention, and only turning them back on right when she's ready to attack to really take her enemies off guard

- Din narrating to the baby has me in my feels a bit, this dude is really going through the motions isn't he? He's trying so hard to keep it together, acting like he's fine that his whole world is about to change in a way he's not fully prepared to handle.

- Can we take a moment to discuss how observant the baby is? He may not know about circuitry to help with ship maintenance, but he has the wherewithal to know when he's headed to a place that's potentially harmful. Episode 7 in season 1, when Din mentions going back to Nevarro? The baby immediately tries to adjust the ships trajectory to avoid going to a place of which his only memories consist of him being experimented on and possibly almost killed. And NOW? Now he recognizes that the name of the planet Din is taking him to will be where they separate, so OF COURSE his first instinct is to, not only avoid leaving Din's side at the pilot's seat, but to also seek out one of the few tangible objects that brings him comfort: THE METAL BALL FROM THE LEVER........baby boi is so smart, we do not give him enough credit

- Baby REALLY didn't want to leave his papa.......also DIN LET HIM KEEP THE BALL PLS

- Din walking through the town reminded me of the Two Towers when the party arrived at Rohan and Gimli was like "You'll find more cheer in a graveyard"

- I have to wonder what was going through Din's mind upon seeing the prisoners in the electric cages. I'm sure he was disgusted, but everything presented in this series is VERY deliberate, ergo Din was meant to see this to IMMEDIATELY establish that this magistrate was someone he wouldn't want to be allied with, a feat that could've been established with the intro into the town alone, but it seems that the best way to really drive home just how terrible these people are is voyeurism.

- The town versus inside the magistrates gated home? Night and day. The contrast is intriguing, how "dead" the town looks but inside the second gate there's life, somewhat flourishing.

- If Din KNEW that the magistrate was referring to Ashoka, than he basically tricked her into helping him find her under the guise of making a deal. If not, than he figured it out during their first fight upon seeing how she maneuvered around him. Either way, we stan one smart cookie.

- Lang reminds me of Number Two from the Austin Powers series

- BATU BATU BATU BATU

- I love the fact that Din is including the baby in his bounty hunting process, not just telling him they've reached the coordinates, but also letting him know to start looking, IT'S BRING YOUR SON TO WORK DAY......(but like EVERYday for him tho.....)

- Okay but like LOGICALLY I KNEW THAT BESKAR CANNOT BE DAMAGED BY A LIGHTSABER BUT MY HEART STOPPED FOR A SECOND

- DIN PACING LIKE A NERVOUS DAD IN THE DOCTORS OFFICE, POOR BABY

- I have to wonder how the baby "talks" via the Force, is it full "sentences"? Clipped "sentences"? Or is it kinda like Renesmee from Twilight where she "inserted" visuals into another person's head? I know they can "feel" each other's thoughts, but I've always wondered exactly HOW they "feel" them...

- I understand people are a little put-off by the lekku, and that cosplayers have done it "better", but we have to remember that cosplayers aren't doing (multiple) fight scenes, the head-piece has to be practical in its design, as well as authentic. There are stunt-doubles, and having to create multiple versions that not only can withstand constant movement, but also won't break easily. Not to mention when you try to do a live-action based off an animated series, it almost ALWAYS looks "wrong" on some levels (live-action anime? it's awkward af, no matter how hard you try...)

- About the Grogu controversy: I'm on the fence, but will most likely come to love/appreciate the name. Is it within the realm of what I was expecting? Nope. Is it possible that we are ALL projecting our own ideas of what name the baby "should" have had, so much so that almost ANY name they would've given him would've sounded "wrong"? VERY distinctive possibility......this is Star Wars after all, names are meant to sound "weird".  Grogu sounds like a Star Wars kind of name, in fact it's kinda fitting for a species that looks reptilian-ish

- THE BABY HEARING DIN SAY HIS NAME FOR THE FIRST TIME, THE WHIPLASH IN THAT HEAD-TURN, BUT LIKE.....I love the slight parallels to Grogu's and Din's name-arc: They both went DECADES without hearing their own names, and the reveal's are so contrasting, Din hears his name during a time when he's in danger, the baby hears his while having a heart-to-heart. I'm curious about how Din was feeling in this moment, thinking about how long Grogu must've gone without hearing his own name, and how Din longs to have someone say HIS name with an almost reverent tone

- YODA NAME-DROP.....but also Grogu looked at Ashoka when she said the name, I wonder if he knew Yoda

- Some people have mentioned Ashoka's lekku not being long enough for her age, I'm wondering if they compensated with the "wrinkles" in it? Can lekku have wrinkles?

- Grogu trying to be good for his papa, but also NOT wanting to use his powers because he KNOWS it would mean that papa has to leave him (and Din's little head tilt to get him to cooperate) I JUST....I CAN'T

- Ashoka telling Din to connect with Grogu, and Din shifting around all like "LOOK ITS BAD ENOUGH I HAVE TO LEAVE MY SON WITH YOU, CAN YOU NOT MAKE THIS HARDER FOR ME???"

- FATHER AND SON GAME OF CATCH AND DIN'S EXCITEMENT WHEN GROGU CAUGHT THE METAL BALL, MY OVARIES CANNOT TAKE THIS MUCH FLUFF

- Subtle Anakin reference, given what happened to the younglings after he went dark, it's a good thing Grogu was taken.......but by WHO???

- Din calling the lightsabers "laser swords" and Ashoka's little grin like, she WANTED to correct him, but she was enjoying Din's dorkyness???

- Din trusted her enough to let her borrow his pauldron??? I HAD A MOMENT

- DIN GUNSLINGER DJARIN

- Did my eyes fucking DECEIVE ME?? DID ASHOKA CUT THE SPEAR IN HALF????? Like this is the second time I'm watching this, the first time I noticed it I was like "No fucking WAY", but I'm seeing it AGAIN, IT WASN'T A TRICK OF THE EYE....so beskar is only lightsaber RESISTANT??

- Lang vs Din was like Johnny Ringo vs Doc Holliday, "You're no daisy!"

- More name-dropping. Did Ashoka kill Elsbeth? They never show her after the exchange.

- Din could've jetpacked his way back to the ship, but chose to walk instead. The way he avoids actually waking up Grogu at first, holding him for a bit, then taking the time to get him ready. Din baby who are you fooling? You're not ready, and you never will be.

- DIN STICKING HIS FINGERS OUT TO LET GROGU HOLD HIS HAND

- Ashoka knows okay?? She KNOWS that Din and Grogu are meant to stay together

- Din calling out Ashoka for trying to weasel out of the deal vs calling out Bo-Katan for changing the deal: No malice in his voice, he barely put up a fight, then sounded relieved after she gave him an alternative, one that could lead to the baby deciding NOT to become like the Jedi and instead choosing to remain with this buir

[blue-mint-winter]

Caliban’s War and the Great Absent

As a fan that started my adventure with The Expanse series from the show, when I was reading Caliban’s War, the first thing that I noticed were the differences between the book and the show. The major story beats stayed the same and great moments from the book found a place within the adaptation and some were made even better. But what really hit me was how much the beginning differs between the two mediums. The first around 200 pages are a bit of a mess - and it’s not just a slow start kind of a deal. That part was less enjoyable to read, it felt disjointed, meandering almost. There was action, but it was sometimes hard to find a meaning to it, the characters were all clueless, and the general feeling I had was a dull confusion and waiting for the story to get to the point. Only when Holden went independent and decided to do better, the story finally found its groove back. The next two thirds of the book shifted tonally into a more exciting space action/political drama mode which was adapted much more closely by the show.

However, I think that first third is worth analyzing as it very much feels as a different story in tone and subject than what follows. First of all, things are bad for everyone. The common denominator is the trauma. Prax and Bobbie’s chapters are paralleling each other with their descriptions of the PTSD both characters are going through caused by the events on Ganymede. They both have episodes of “I’m not shouting”, both lose their minds and cause incidents, both are restless. For two very different people, a civilian botanist and a marine, they are quite similar. They are both coping with trauma and grief in broad terms and despite their circumstances being different, they are both still determined to continue. They won’t let the matter drop, they won’t give up. On top of that, the third POV character, Holden, is ALSO going through PTSD from Eros. He’s in a pretty dark place, becoming someone unlikeable, until Naomi decides to leave. So, 3 out of 4 POVs are traumatized people. Avasarala also had a traumatic experience with the loss of her son, but in her case it’s an old wound and it gives her motivation to go on. She’s someone that time already healed to some extent.

The 3 main characters not dealing well with their trauma in this part of the story brings me to the next point - The Great Absent - Joe Miller. Miller was absorbed by protomolecule on Eros, which would normally mean that he should be gone from the story, his arc was very satisfyingly finished in Leviathan Wakes, however Caliban’s War doesn’t let us for a moment forget him. It does it in two ways - most obvious is Holden frequently remembering Miller. Not only name drops, but actually Holden’s “dark times” is when he goes through “millerification”. He took the police job for OPA patroling and catching pirates with the Roci and it made him more jaded. He’s diagnosed with becoming like Miller and it’s apparently a terrible thing. Honestly, that kind of pissed me off, because it looked like characters chose only to remember Miller killing Dresden and “being like Miller” means “being a trigger-happy psycho that shoots first” which is NOT who he was. Naomi herself is the most concerned with this change in Holden and she was the one that agreed with Miller killing Dresden! So this dissonance in what Miller means to them all now compared to how they saw him in the last book really bothered me. It goes even farther within the book as in the second half Holden shoots Nguyen to get the transponder codes for the monster missiles and Amos kills Strickland. Both of those actions are showed in a very positive light, justice is served/for the greater good and Miller would be proud. Tell me how what they did is any different from killing Dresden which Holden was so mad about in LW. Can the author decide within one book whether being like Miller is a good thing or a bad thing??? I’m getting a whiplash here.

Third way Miller is still within the story without being there physically is more subtle. Just as Holden is doing his own police work and becoming a sort of a space sheriff, Prax has almost the exact storyline as Miller had in the first book. Prax loses everything, all his life’s work, and becomes a desperate man that only lives to find a lost girl - his own daughter. Some might say he’s the reverse Jules-Pierre Mao, which is also true, but more than that, he’s the second Miller. He’s even got an ex-wife! In general, Caliban’s War shares so many similarities in plot structure that it often feels like a repeat of Leviathan Wakes. Prax however got a much happier ending than Miller did, a second chance at life. He saved his girl from protomolecule and can rebuild what he lost.

The last way Miller (and Julie too) is still in the story is through Venus. Avasarala is closely monitoring the situation over there and protomolecule being active and building something on the planet reminds us too of the detective. It’s a less obvious connection, but it is there.

In conclusion, from start to finish, the book doesn’t let us forget about a dead character and then brings him back in the very last scene. I admit that was a brilliant way to end it. Julie Mao similarly is not forgotten, she’s mentioned every time her father appears. Mei is obviously the new Julie in this book. Julie’s beloved ship, the Razorback, is crucial to bring Avasarala and Bobbie to the Roci crew and then in the final battle.

Miller and Julie are the great absent ones in the book because the heart of the story is the protomolecule. Avasarala even comments on it in her frustration that the Mars-Earth conflict is just people distracting themselves from what’s really terrifying them - Venus. Just doing what they always did, what they know, so they can ignore the terrible unknown danger they can’t do anything about. When the vomit zombies showed up again, I literally thought: “A-ha! We’re back on track!” That’s because that’s the main story. And the first third of the book was the farthest thing from it. It wasn’t all bad, there were many highlights (Holden-Amos relationship gives me life, others had great moments too) but as a whole they were focused on the personal trauma and pain of the main characters while the plot was slower and put to the side as the characters struggled like fish out of water. The confusion of what was going on and the lack of the perspective on the big picture made it annoying for me to read, not to mention some redundant parts which the show very rightly cut, changed or streamlined. However, it’s fascinating to compare and contrast how the book’s beginning was edited and improved on the show. Besides, I personally think that the book’s focus on Prax and Bobbie’s inner lives and PTSD was very good for their characterizations. For me, Prax was the MVP of the book and I like him better than show Prax, and it wouldn’t be possible without that part when he loses it and gets into a fist fight with Katoa’s dad or when he accidentally starts a shoot-out because he undid the safety on the gun like in the movies.

[makeste]

BnHA Bonus Rant: Top 10 Anime Betrayals

or, ITP makeste talks about the mysterious ~U.A. traitor~ and who it could be.

this was originally typed up as part of my recap for chapter 83 (which I won’t link here due to tumblr being picky about posts with links in them, apparently? but you can find it under the “makeste reads bnha” tag), but it got so long that I cut it out and made it into its own post. also, this post is spoiler-free, assuming that you are caught up with the anime. I haven’t gotten much further along myself (only up to chapter 141), so I’ll request for manga spoilers to be left out of any discussion lol.

okay, so! to start off, I’ve gone back and forth on the whole traitor thing. part of me doesn’t want there to be a traitor in U.A. because there are a lot of ways to fuck that up, story-wise. I don’t want it to feel forced, or for the other characters to look really stupid in hindsight for not having figured it out, or for the traitor to be someone I really like and so it ends up feeling weird and OOC because I was so sure they were a good guy. and also, I don’t necessarily think that a mole is the only possible explanation for the attacks on U.A. there are a other ways the villains could have been getting their information. mind control/mind reading, or disguises, or hacking into U.A.’s security, etc. there are other possibilities, and most of these don’t even require quirks to boot.

having said that, I will acknowledge that the fact that the story brings this possibility up repeatedly and discusses it at length makes it much more likely to actually be the case. otherwise it’s a waste of a plot seed. so fine, for the time being let’s assume there is indeed a traitor. and I know I said not too long ago that I wasn’t going to discuss this, but I say a lot of things, and it turns out I have some thoughts on this after all so. lol.

here are my top 10 suspects for U.A. traitor, ranked from least to most likely.

10. All Might

nah just fucking with y’all. it’s definitely not All Might.

9. Aizawa

yeah, gonna go out on a limb and say it's not the guy who was nearly murdered by the villains and sustained permanent damage in the USJ attack.

8. Vlad King

I feel like if it was Vlad, he would have tried harder to keep his own students out of the crossfire. also he has a dog. he’s a nice person, dammit. shame on you for suspecting this poor man.

7. Snipe The Sheriff

he’s not a prominent enough character to be the traitor. it wouldn’t be enough of a shock.

6. Midnight

can we not have the sole female U.A. faculty member be the goddamn traitor please and thank you

5. One of the Students

first of all how dare you

but second of all, shit. I feel like this is the first of these options that’s actually a legit possibility, if only because the shock value would be off the charts. but I don’t like this because we’ve gotten to know almost all of these kids extensively, and they’re all goddamn heroes. these are good kids. don’t tell me one of them has been secretly evil this whole time. that’s not gonna fly, and would be incredibly difficult to pull off without it feeling contrived and stupid. but it would be shocking though, ngl.

there is, however, one exception to this, and it’s a big one. but I’ll get to that in a little bit.

4. Rat Principal

first of all, Rat Principal is clearly evil regardless of whether he’s a traitor working with the League of Villains or not. I mean just look at him. he’s a cute little rodent thing with an unparalleled IQ who likes to drink tea and plot things in his office. and also he was experimented on or whatever and is clearly a little deranged. really, the only reason I don’t think he’s the traitor is because he’s so overtly and unquestionably fucking evil that it would be way too obvious. let’s all just breathe a sigh of relief that this fiendish little capybara is on our side.

okay, so now we’re getting into the top three. these are the only people who I could actually see being the traitor, really. I could have just made this a top three and saved myself some time and effort, but then I wouldn’t have been able to post the picture of Nezu with the tea cup, so. I did what I had to do.

anyway

3. Tsukauchi Naomasa 

okay, so I’m aware that this one doesn’t make much sense. for one, he’s not part of the U.A. faculty. for another, All Might trusts him, and he’s been privy to a lot of sensitive information that clearly hasn’t been passed to the villains. so it’s like, if he is a mole, then he’s a pretty bad one.

but. on the other hand:

he may not be part of the faculty, but he is best friends with one of them, and we know that he and All Might regularly share information with each other that’s supposed to be top secret. so it’s not outside the realm of possibility that All Might could have told him where the kids were headed without giving it a second thought, because he trusts him more than just about anyone

we don’t know what his quirk is, IIRC. it could be something that lets him extract information he wouldn’t normally have access to (like mind-reading)

the biggest secrets that he was in on (All Might’s weakened state, and Deku being the One for All heir) are, conveniently enough, things that All for One and Tomura also knew about. and no one questioned it, because of course AFO was the one who injured Toshinori in the first place, and the thing with Deku wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. but still. that’s a really helpful coincidence

there’s just something about his face that’s put me off since day one. I’m not sure what it is, but he’s almost too blandly nice? like it strikes me as the kind of face that could shift into a craaaazy evil expression with ease, and it wouldn’t look at all unnatural

idk, I just wouldn’t be at all surprised if and when this guy turns out to be evil af

2. Present Mic

loooooool oh boy I’m gonna get an earful for this one. okay but look. just hear me out

shock value for days. he’s Aizawa’s old school friend, isn’t he? basically he’s the perfect level of “established enough so as to be a shock without necessarily being whiplash-inducing.” he’s pretty much the only member of the faculty who hits that sweet spot of the audience being familiar with him even though we haven’t actually spent a lot of time with him in the actual series. we all love him, but we haven’t actually seen a lot of him. it’s not like Aizawa where we know he cares about his kids because we’ve seen it with our own eyes. we trust Present Mic because Aizawa trusts him, and because he seems like too much of a goofball to possibly be secretly evil

he’s another one with that type of face that normally seems non-threatening but could probably be twisted into a really menacing expression with surprising ease. it’d probably be really hot too

he is the first one to bring up the possibility of there being a traitor. “but officer, if I really was the murderer why on earth would I have called the police?” obviously to make it seem like you didn’t murder someone you clever fuck. don’t pretend like you’re all innocent

but seriously, it effectively makes him seem like a less likely candidate even though there’s no reason to believe that’s actually the case. very smooth. and I don’t trust it one bit

and last but not least, drum roll please...

1. Hagakure Tooru

yep, so in spite of her cute and cheerful personality, as well as the fact that she was one of the only class A kids injured in the forest lodge attack, Hagakure is actually my prime suspect for the following reasons:

her quirk is perfectly suited to espionage. this pretty much goes without saying

no one actually has any idea what she really looks like. because of her personality, we imagine that she’s cute and sweet and bubbly and innocent, but it would be such a great surprise if her appearance was finally revealed one day and it’s like “oh wow yeah she’s totally evil”

her personality is very much that of a “typical” teenage girl, to such an extent that it could easily be an elaborate cover. like, if you were trying to pose as a U.A. student, you couldn’t ask for a more disarming fake identity than that. basically no one is going to question it

now then, getting to the matter of the lodge attack. it’s true that she was injured, and at first glance would seem to make her being the traitor much less likely, were it not for two things:

the gas was non-lethal with no lasting side effects. assuming she knew this from the start, it would have been a very effective way to clear her from suspicion without putting herself at risk in any way

this makes her one of only two kids in class A (the other being Jirou) who didn’t know about the police raid and Kirishima’s planned Bakugou rescue attempt. meaning she couldn’t warn the League ahead of time. now, we know that the villains were pretty much blindsided by the raid, meaning that if there is a traitor, said traitor either wasn’t able to pass this information along, or chose not to. so ironically, this actually makes Hagakure look a whole lot more suspicious

lastly, we can’t actually verify Hagakure’s whereabouts during the USJ raid. she says she was with Todoroki, but he never actually saw her. that in itself isn’t strange, obviously, but what is strange is that she never said anything to him to let him know that she actually was there. and that does strike me as a little odd, particularly because she could have been caught in the crossfire of his attack if that actually was the case.

so that’s it. these are the people I’m keeping an eye on. if and when one of them turns out to be evil I totally called it. although I still kind of hope there isn’t a traitor though. like, come on U.A. why you gotta be like this

[skyblxssom]

Title: Justice never sleeps! Fandom: Ace Attorney Rating: K Word count: 2974

Basically my first attempt at writing something for AA. Recently played through the games all the way to DD, and fell head over heels for Bobby! A lot of the inspiration came from @windmaedchen-aa lovely art, specifically the office baby version cause I’m a sucker for soft interaction.

This piece is chock full of attempts on grasping the characters mixed with my own hearty sprinkling of personal headcanons. Also involves windmaedchen’s OC, Kid Fox! Thanks to them also for talking and bouncing ideas with me haha. Hope I did Kid some justice!  

Well, please enjoy!   

As always, Detective Gumshoe left his apartment bright and early, decked in his usual jacket that had been with him through thick and thin. While some had called it ratty, he personally thinks it added a sort of charm to it.

Regardless, he made the walk to the precinct. His apartment might not be all that maintained, but its close location in relative to the precinct made the blasted icy showers and creaky elevator worth it. Half of the time.

Gumshoe gave a wave at the clerk manning the front desk, flashing her his patented ‘pal’ smile as some of his coworkers dubbed it as. She returned it with a shy smile of her own, her face flushing slightly at his hearty chuckle. He took the elevator to his floor, and it was when he stepped into the office that something immediately caught his attention.

The detective blinked, his steps drawing him closer to the small lounging area set in the right corner of the open floor space. It was a cozy little spot where people tended to sit and chat away, or sometimes eat their boxed lunches at during lunch time. No one laid claim to the sofa, as it was a who got there first sort of situation, but he had to admit that this was the first time he saw someone actually sleeping on the old, somewhat lumpy thing.

It was even more surprising that the person was none other than Detective Bobby Fulbright. One of the more dedicated detectives in the Police Department, there was nobody in the precinct who hasn’t heard about him. He carried this sort of exuberance and positivity that – while annoying at times – was honestly so genuine that one couldn’t help but become fond of, or at least tolerate after direct exposure.

He was a prime example of someone who followed the law, but Gumshoe knows that he wasn’t inflexible. Detective Fulbright walked down his own path of justice that pretty much involved helping anyone that he was able to lend a hand to. He believed in the good of people, though that doesn’t translate to naivety. He chose to spend his time and effort to make the lives of the people better, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant it may be.

A detective that examined gruesome murder scenes that also helped the elderly cross the road was a bit of a whiplash, but that was just how Fulbright is. It is only just that he lent his support to those who could use it, for their job is to maintain the peace and to assure the public that crime would not run rampant in the city.

They don’t have to necessarily limit themselves to just investigating and solving crimes. Interacting and helping the common folk, ensuring that they are happy and able to walk down the streets peacefully is an act of justice in of itself, Fulbright had once told him.

He was usually whizzing about, doing his work and other things, so it was rather unusual – and slightly concerning – to see the good detective passed out on the couch. Fulbright had taken off his white jacket, using it as a makeshift pillow to give support that the arm rest can’t hope to provide. His aviator glasses were still perched on the bridge of his nose, looking dangerously close to sliding right off. The sofa wasn’t capable of holding Fulbright’s 6'0 frame, so one of his legs dangled over the edge while the other laid motionless by his side. His right arm rested on his stomach, his left hanging off the sofa.

Gumshoe leaned in a little, his eyes quickly taking in the little details. Even with the glasses, he was able to see the dark bags peeking out, showing that Fulbright had been missing on some good sleep lately. There was a hint of facial hair smattering his chin, pointing out that he had no time to shave. If Gumshoe remembered it correctly, he did hear on how someone helped to cover one of the officer’s night shifts due to them facing a family emergency.

Even if he can be a little slow on the uptake, it wasn’t difficult to connect the dots. Ah, it seemed that Detective Fulbright had extended a helping hand, essentially pulling double shifts because the man still performed his regular duties. It wasn’t not surprising then that he pretty much exhausted himself.

Gumshoe eyed him for a moment longer before coming to a decision. The professional thing to do would be to wake him up, but the kinder option was to let him catch up on some sleep. With that in mind, he carefully leaned over the couch, being super careful not to jostle anything as he drew the blinds shut. The mild furrow on Fulbright’s brow smoothed with the absence of light.

With his mind still whirling, Gumshoe briefly left the office. The detective soon returned with a blanket that they kept on hand, as well as a Blue Badger doll that was often used for safety announcement videos. Very gently, he draped the blanket atop Fulbright’s form, covering halfway up his torso. It wasn’t able to cover his legs, but it would provide him some warmth.

Gumshoes froze when he shuffled a little, looking like he was roused from slumber but Fulbright remained fast asleep. Heaving out a quiet breath, it was a bit like surgery on how precise he had to be in planting the Blue Badger by his head. He pulled his hand back, observed for a moment longer then sighed once more.

There was no indication that Fulbright realized what he did, though he nuzzled a little into the stuffed doll before settling. Gumshoe could feel the wide smile that tugged at his lips, feeling quite pleased with himself.

Right, he knew what they should do today.

When Ema entered the office that morning, the first thing she noticed was how quiet it was. Usually, there’d be some form of noise—idle chatter, loud phone calls and the like. She paused by the door, giving the area a general sweep. His coworkers were hunched over their desks, so the silence can’t be attributed to a lack of people. In fact, it looked like they were actively trying to do their work without making too much noise.

“What’s going on…?” She mumbled, looking a bit confused. Her expression must’ve given her away, as one of the detectives jutted a thumb to his right. Ema followed it—and then she understands.

She had worked with Detective Fulbright multiple times in the past. You’d think his sunny personality would clash with hers but she did find him as one of the better detectives to partner up with. His enthusiasm for justice can be rather overwhelming, but he more than makes up for it by showing genuine interest in her own excitement about forensic science.

Once she got used to it, there really wasn’t any reason to dislike him. Fulbright reminded her of a loud, tall puppy. Kind, eager to please and – as she approached the sofa to get a better angle – right now, looking rather adorable with the Blue Badger plastered next to his face.

Ema wore a faint smile. Poor guy must be completely tuckered out to even consider the sofa as a comfortable resting spot. She figured that everyone else wanted to let him rest, thus explaining their odd behavior. Heh. She didn’t think that some of the gruffer detectives would agree to it, but everyone seemed to content to leave him.

She gave him another once over, noticing that he was still wearing his glasses. As someone who had her own pair, that was just a recipe for disaster. Ema noticed the eyes on her when she bent forward. Just like how she treated a crime scene, she was being super careful in her act of removing his glasses. She held her breath, keeping check of his expression and only exhaled when she stepped back with it in her hands.

Ema fished in her pockets for her eyeglass case. Green in color with her name etched on top of the cover, she placed his glasses into it. While the lenses were a bit rounder than hers, it slotted in without much trouble.

With an air of accomplishment, Ema placed the case on top of the arm rest. Detective Fulbright continued to snore softly, oblivious to the world around him.

Idly, she smoothened out the blanket – like how Lana used to do for her during bedtime – before fully stepping back. Well, it was time for her to get to work.

She’d make sure to keep the Snackoo munching as quietly as she possibly could.

An almost silent air greeted Detective Kid Fox when she came in for work, sending her mind into overdrive on various possibilities. It was never this quiet, so there had to be a reason for it. How was the atmosphere? Did something horrible happened within the precinct? Were her colleagues in mourning? If so, how did it happened without her knowledge? A recent happening? Had that been the case, this place would have been buzzing with activity as opposed to near stillness.

Though, her trail of thought came crashing to a halt when a quick survey of the area landed her gaze on the little lounge area close to her desk.

The proverbial light bulb lit up as she reached her answer. Truthfully, Fox found it a tad odd that all of them were being so… considerate with sleeping beauty over there. Bobby slept on amidst the quiet compromise that the rest of his coworkers granted to him. He looked real cozy on that lumpy thing, what with the shutters drawn, a blanket draped over his form and—was that a Blue Badger doll that he was resting his head against?

It wasn’t what she expected coming into the office this morning, but Fox would be stupid to complain about it. If the rest were letting him sleep, then there was no real reason to disturb it. Besides, she thinks that Bobby should sleep in the office more often, if it gave her this silence. She did love working in quietude when she dug through old case files.

Knowing that this wasn’t something to worry about, and after another quick overview of the sleeping detective, Fox silently approached the sofa. Those shoes looked quite stuffy, so she figured she’d do him a favor by taking it off.

Fox moved quickly yet carefully in the process of tugging his shoes off. Doing so revealed that he continued to be a fiend to society by not wearing socks, but she didn’t let that bother her or anything. After his feet were free from its confines, she placed his shoes on the floor in front of the sofa.

With that out of the way, Fox went back to her desk, ready to tackle on the files whilst relishing this rare peace in the office.

Usually, it was the detectives that made their way over to the Prosecutor’s office to meet up with their partnered prosecutor when they’re working on a case. This time however, Klavier personally swung by the Police Department to see Ema, as well as take care of some other business within the building. He had been to this place multiple times, though the moment he stepped into the office, being met with silence wasn’t something that he expected.

Klavier wore a faint look of confusion, wondering about the reason behind this strange tranquility. He could see that the detectives were doing their work like always, but silently. Any form of conversations involved hunched backs and whispers. It was like they were actively making an effort to do things as quietly as possible.

Before Klavier could ask someone about this admittedly strange scenario, his eyes just so happened to spot the sleeping figure on the sofa.

Ah, that made sense. He could feel a small smile tugging at his lips. Klavier recognized the other, having worked with him a couple of times. Detective Fulbright always had this larger than life sort of personality; a brightness that drew attention to him like when he used to perform on stage with the Gavinners. Only with the detective, it was purely a solo gig.

Still, he found it mildly surprising that the other detectives were allowing this. It showed a camaraderie that he privately found to be quite outstanding. Clearly they looked out for one another. This might come across as unprofessional, but they cared more about Fulbright’s wellbeing to let him get sleep.

Now wouldn’t that be a good muse to write a song about? The tale of a tired detective who endlessly pursued justice, but could fall back into the support of the friends around him. That, or some form of rocking lullaby. Maybe taking the classic lullaby and putting a rock twist on it?

That was something he’d entertain more on later. Right now, he wanted to see the Fräulein detective regarding the case they were working on. Until he found the surprisingly amicable Ema, Klavier hummed a soft tune beneath his breath.

A gentle tug at his consciousness was enough to slowly rouse Bobby from slumber. Initially, he was in a groggy state of confusion, his brain taking its sweet time to boot up. Shifting slightly, he started to realize multiple things.

His neck felt stiff while the rest of his body resembled a giant ache. The surface he apparently slept on was not his bed—too small and lumpy. Slowly, he pried open his gummy eyes, blinking multiple times through the blurriness. In an absentminded gesture, his finger touched nothing when he tried to push up his glasses.

Bobby settled with pressing a hand against his forehead as he tried to recall where he was. The last thing he remembered was going back to the office at night to cover for Detective Russel’s shift because he had a family emergency to attend to. Then he decided to take a break when it was getting difficult to keep himself awake. Bobby shuffled to the sofa and laid down with the intention to get back up after a few minutes but—

Wait, did he fall asleep!?

That thought pierced through the fogginess and with it, a sudden rush of panic filled him. Bobby hastily tried to push himself up, which was easier said than done when his legs dangled over the edge of the couch. Something fell by the side of his face, but he didn’t notice it in his hurry to get up and get back to work--!

“Woah pal! Take it easy!” A familiar voice greeted him, which effectively halted his attempt. Bobby harshly rubbed at his eyes before he looked up to find Detective Gumshoe standing by his side. Wait, when did he get here? Wasn’t it supposed to still be the night shift?

“D-Dick?” Bobby uttered, the confusion noticeable in his voice.

“Yep! Did ya get some good sleep?”

“Sleep?” The detective looked around, finally noticing that it wasn’t night time after all. “Wait—how long was I asleep for!?”

“Well, it’s just about noon, pal! About time to grab lunch, so you woke up at the right time!”

Bobby felt something icy course through his veins. Not only did he fall asleep, he practically overslept! That was unacceptable! While everyone else was hard at work, here he was, sleeping like he didn’t have responsibilities in this department! Hardly a good example to show his fellow detectives, nor was it fair!

It was… it was unjust! Bobby sported a horrified look, hands gripping the side of his face.

“Oh my god—I’m so sorry Dick! I didn’t mean to fall asleep! I promise I’ll get right to—“

“Hey, it’s fine pal!” Gumshoe interjected, placing his large hands atop his shoulders for emphasis. Bobby’s mouth snapped shut as his wide eyes looked into his senior’s kind ones.

“We knew you were running yourself ragged pulling double shifts like that. Of course it’s understandable that you’d just be out like a light! You needed some sleep, so we let you catch up on ‘em!” A hearty laugh. “I can’t imagine the sofa being all that comfy but hey, it’s better than the floor, I guess!”

Bobby felt his jaw dropped at his words. They knew he was literally sleeping on the job, and they left him be?

“But I’m missing out on work—“

“Which ya can get back to, after you’ve charged up.” Gumshoe wore a warm, friendly smile. “You’re real dedicated to your job, Bobby. One of the most hardworking fella I’ve had the pleasure to be friends with! You needed the rest before you risk worsening yourself. Last thing you want is to get sick!”

Bobby felt an assuring squeeze on his shoulder. “Trust me. Everyone understood it, which is why we’ve been working real quiet so you’d be able to sleep peacefully.” Another chuckle. “From the looks of it, seems like it worked!”

He was still processing everything, but one thing surged to the front of his mind—and made his eyes sting with tears. Bobby just felt… touched, that everyone seemed to have put in effort to let him sleep, even when they should have woken him up.

They… cared about him and his wellbeing. That thought alone made his lips quiver into a wobbly grin, the tears finally slipping out in a rush of happiness. Amidst Dick’s sudden worried questions, Bobby realized that he learnt something valuable today.

Justice never sleeps—but he needs to so he could be in good condition during his endless pursuit for it.

And preferably, back in the privacy of his bedroom and on actual bed.

[neen-writes]

Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 8

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime.  Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again.  The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building.  But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.  

Note: Here is the next chapter!  Anyone that’s read the original will notice that I have pretty much changed and rearranged the WHOLE thing!  And, a detail that might be of interest...I combined half of the next chapter(Dawn’s Intermission) with the end of this one.  And I still intend to keep this fic at 20 chapters total... ;]

Read the Reforged chapters on FF.net here!

And read the entire original story here!!

AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!

Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3  Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7

It had been more than a week since Halloween, and the last time since she had seen her dragon.

The first day after Halloween was difficult.  She had been so spaced that multiple times customers had to try more than once to get her attention, and she hardly got anything done.  When she got home that evening she was exhausted, but her thoughts kept her awake for most of the night.  

The following days got easier only in the aspect of being able to keep herself occupied and distracted.  Her efforts to decipher how she felt, however, had made no progress.  The shadow that had terrorized she and her friends, and who was so unearthly, had gone from all of that to the vulnerable figure on her couch.  Listening to her read to him.  She had trusted him enough to fall asleep, and that sudden change happened quickly enough to leave her with emotional whiplash.  To which there was no closure as he was gone when she awoke.

Consequently, her productivity after that first day was better than it had ever been, and with her short stint off work she had been more than willing to pick up shifts for the people that had to cover her.  After all, it was only fair, and it also kept her there from open to close.  Which wasn’t awful; the constant activity and steady flow of tasks did wonders to keep her thoughts on one track for the majority of the day.  Still, when she wasn’t working, she expected him to show up any minute.  With no luck.

Levy chalked it up to the snow flurries that had started on the 2nd, slowly dusting their surroundings with a soft white.  It was certainly what kept her from going back herself; the small blunette was not really fit to be trekking through the woods in the snow by herself.  That, along with her increased hours at work: there wasn’t any real time for her to go.  Excuses… she would scold herself every now and again, and then wonder why she felt so obligated to see him.  So she coped by pushing it all onto him, waiting for him to show.  Wondering why he hadn’t.  Or wondering he had when she wasn’t home, which only made her feel worse.

Lucy had been over a couple other nights to watch movies and drink hot cocoa: a little tradition of theirs every time the weather turned.  Levy wasn’t a huge fan of the cold, but Crop-Top-Lucy was even less so.  The whole tradition involved Lucy cocooned in a blanket with an angry puff to her cheeks.  It was how she coped.  The thought made Levy laugh to herself, wondering every year how Lucy survived the winters when 90% of her attire was shorts, skirts, bandeaus, and crop tops.  The girl fed on sunlight and warmth.  

For Levy, however, it was near torture trying to act normally.  Her best friend was the one that she was supposed to be venting to about silly feelings stuff.  Lucy ate that up, especially if it involved boys.  And especially if it involved boys that Levy might be confused about.  Even if she didn’t think it was anything like that.  But what am I supposed to say?  ‘Hey remember that scary guy in the dark that made you pee your pants? Yeah he seems like he’s interested in me and I don’t know how I feel about him.  Just ignore the first part.’  She grimaced and threw her head back in defeat.  Why is this so complicated! Why couldn’t this just be easy?  

The pervasive thought that he might try to come when she wasn’t there wouldn’t leave her.  It circled in her head while waking and asleep, and it pained her to imagine his disappointment.  Two mornings ago, Levy took the time to pull out a long coat from the master closet and a thick scarf, setting it out on the bed.  She took a sheet of paper and, wanting to be vague just in case, only wrote “keep warm,” and left the sliding doors unlocked.  When she returned that night, the clothes and the note were gone.  And something striking was in its place.

A worn, damaged notebook.  The black, partially detached cover had no identifiers.  Inside, pages were torn or burnt, and some were ripped out entirely.  But there were several pages that were preserved clearly, and she had spent nearly the entire night poring through it, trying to make sense of it.  And understand why he left it for her.  In a way it seemed fitting, communication wasn’t necessarily his strong suit.  It warmed her that he wanted her to have it, that it was his way of opening who he was in the safest way possible.  Levy still couldn’t help being disappointed that he didn’t stay, or give it to her directly.

What she had begun to uncover inside kept the notebook nearly attached at her hip; both from wanting every second to interpret what was inside, but also for fear of anyone else seeing it. More than that, it pained her terribly to know what she did now; to have some of the questions answered that she had wanted so much to ask and she was so relieved that he chose to do it in this way.

The day following the appearance of the notebook she had off work, and she spent it still going cover to cover.  It was midday when she couldn’t take being boxed in with her thoughts anymore, waiting for a tap on the back doors.  Levy packed the notebook into her purse, bundled up, and headed out.  The way to the library was memorized for the bookworm, and on a cold day like today, she was counting on not many people being there.  

Thankfully she was right on that regard, and she quickly went to the farthest back computer she could find.  With a cautionary glance around her, she candidly pulled the book from her bag and opened it straight to a page she had marked last night.  Levy’s brows knit together in concentration.

December 15, 2010

X777 continues to resist the treatments and refuses to succumb as the other subjects have after the first failed conversion.  He seems to wish, to think he has the option to exit the study.  Tragic.  He has responded much more… poorly to containment than the others.  Although infuriating, I would be remiss to not note his perceptiveness to our methods.  X777 caught on nearly immediately to our containment protocols, faster even than others of similar… volatility.  Keeping him within the facility was initially a challenge that we overcame thanks largely to what we learned with X761.  We are still trying to replace staff from this incident.  Good hands are so difficult to come by.  

The conditioning process has taken extraordinarily longer and it severely hinders our progress.  He displays incredible potential for full conversion but the indignant fire will not go out and any partial conversions thus far have been unstable due to fractious temperament.

There is promise in other methods.  Deprivation of course shows much effectivity in trials with canines.  I have much hope in applying this and will modify his treatment plan accordingly.  

Her stomach twisted painfully upon reading the words again. She knew he couldn’t have fully consented to the experiments, but to realize they had been trapped there was almost as difficult as reading such a cold account of it all.

January 19, 2011

Isolation protocols have made a much more pliable subject of X777.  The fire is not yet extinguished but I can see the resignation,  I am thrilled by our progress; we have been able to to increase the dosing significantly, and reached nearly 65% conversion.

It was magnificent.  I have seen nothing like it and it was not yet even a total success. Before conversion he is a coarse, intimidating man.  With it, he only becomes astronomically more so.  If we can mold him to control it...

It is unprecedented to have gotten this far and for the subject to have survived the process.  He has, however sustained damage that will require us to unfortunately halt sessions for several days.  I am advised that should we dose him again and push infusions sooner we may lose him entirely.  I am loath to slow our progress, but it can’t be helped.  Despite his cooperative shortcomings, he is far too much an asset to allow to be burn out like the others.  Too promising.

The data recorded today will be invaluable to future subjects at Jupiter.  I have high hopes for field testing in the foreseeable future once we have reached this level with more patients.  I would very much like to place him with X772 once we reach controllable conversions.  Their dispositions seem to complement one another in a way that’s most intriguing.  I had initially thought that X761 might be a more spectacular match due to their similarities, however the unpredictability of both of the most conditioning-resistant patients seemed too much like introducing flame to fuel.  A liability I’m not willing to toy with this early. Does it not make more sense for the brute to face the quiet manipulator?

Initially upon reading, the guilt and pity had pushed her to tears multiple times.  This time around, she only felt anger towards the faceless author.  Levy flipped to another page,

May 25, 2011

X777 is the beacon for this project.  He is entirely unparalleled, and what we have been seeking.  All those street rats that came and fell before him were but mortar for the path to get to where we are today.  

For a brief time, we had full conversion, and he is the first, with 761 close on his heels.  The infusion took hold as it was designed, and we had him.  There, in that moment, I understood fully what we are creating; what he have created.  Through the glass, he turned his eyes to me.  Framed with iron, yet still pliable enough to twist into a beastly snarl.  His composition defies everything we know of matter.  He could not see me, yet he locked my gaze and I felt my skin crawl, my heart trip like prey gazing into the maw of its predator.  Such a curious, primal response, yet it lit the bulb of inspiration.

The potential here, the applications there could be for such raw power… X777’s success will fund Jupiter for years to come.  We are the pioneers to this field, and I the sole captain.  Based on his data alone, we may race forward with conversions for the others.  The manners in which each individual express the lacrima infusions are incredibly novel, even with the partial converts.  As we have seen with X777, his affinity appears to be solid iron.  Yet X772 draws the dark from the corners of his cell, and weaves it like smoke about his fingertips.  His brother, incredibly, does the opposite.  X761… well his matches his thunderous will.

Yet, I get so far ahead of myself.  These milestones harald the need for another meet with our benefactors.  We may very well have their first shipment far ahead of schedule.

The entries only went as far as the fall of 2011, leaving her to suspect that there were many more books that chronicled the duration of the experiments, and this was one of the earlier accounts of the process.

The blunette turned her attention now to the computer after checking her privacy one more time.  I never actually…tried to dig into the place more.  I just went off what people had said when we decided to go there.  It was all ghost stories and legend, she thought, pulling up the library database and going straight for the news archives.  What do I even search, she wondered, trying to recall details from anything Gajeel had told her, before counting something out on her fingers.

After a minute, she went to refine her search, narrowing results to 2012 and just typing the word “laboratory” into the keyword field. 684 results. That’s not helpful.  A frown stretched the corners of her mouth slightly, and she glanced to the book again.  I need a better keyword.  After a few more moments, the girl remembered a term she had seen multiple times in the book.  Initially, she didn’t know what it meant until she had seen it in context enough to figure it was the title for something.  Either the project or the entire facility itself.  

Erasing her previous search, she typed in a new term: Jupiter.

Only a handful of results came up this time.  A few vague articles, but the most recent one was the one she was looking for:  ‘Jupiter Technology Closes After Incident.’

Incident?  Levy tilted her head in confusion.  The article was as vague as she could expect… but after delving into the story, she realized she had been mistaken on why they were closed.  Yes, the lab closed permanently because of what was found, but that wasn’t what catalyzed the process.  The article talked about significant damage done to the facility on the night of September 7th, 2012.  

‘Seven casualties were identified after the incident.  Among the casualties were Jupiter Technology CEO, and several researchers on staff.  Rumors are circulating of military involvement, but nothing can be confirmed at this time.  Remaining staff of the facility, including head of technological development, Dr. Porla, could not be located or contacted for comment.  As of this time, there has been total dissolution of the company in the wake of catastrophic damages and the halt of all funding in order to investigate the nature of the facility’s work.’

Levy’s heart sank.  No mention of any of the subjects at the lab…

The sound of footsteps heading her way caused Levy to quickly close the window and stuff the book away.  A glance over her shoulder just showed the librarian making her rounds with the book cart.  She sighed and placed her face in her hands, feeling the strain of such focus and the lack of sleep catching up to her.   Levy checked the time, before deciding it was time for her to leave, and be where she could really think about what she had uncovered.  Did Gajeel…  A shudder ran through her at the thought, and her imagination conjured an image of her dragon in a rage, of people falling before him…

Levy shook her head violently, allowing the cold air to berate her for thinking of such a thing.  The next thought was regarding what she read.  And her stomach sunk again.  What they did to him.  What he must have endured���  It was so much worse than she could have imagined, and she had the most difficulty understanding why.  And more than that, trying to understand why he would ever trust her or come near her.

More than before she found herself giving in to the hope that he might come see her again, so she could stop bursting at the seams with all this information.  But, she found her home as quiet and empty as she left it.  A heavy sigh moved her shoulders and she shook her head again, knowing she had no right to expect him to return on her schedule.  If she wanted to see him, she would need to wait.  Even if the snow had not been a factor, at this point it was his decision to return to see her.  He’d been robbed of choice so much already, she owed him that much at least.

“Thank you!  Come back soon.”  Levy flashed a bright, customer service smile at the patron was headed out the door with their new books.  The jingle of the door closing finalized their exit, and she set about closing up the store for the day.  It was the day after her library investigation, and though she had finally gotten sleep, all her thoughts were plagued with the ominous headline.  

Every time she drifted into her dreams last night, she started with seeing him, wrought with his torment.  She would try to reach him, help him, but every time it would devolve back into fiery eyes surrounded by flames.  To raven locks entwisted, stormy.  The destruction was deafening, and try as she might, she could never reach or escape the image.  Multiple times it jerked her awake into a cold sweat, gasping for air.  Her eyes would dart around her dark room before settling on her window, staring out into the moonlight white.  She couldn’t see anything, but each time her gut told her something was out there.

Cerulean locks danced with a quick shake of her head, trying to return to the present.  As Levy finished cleaning up the store and locking up, she made certain that the notebook was tucked securely into her bag.  Even after poring over every word and nearly memorizing it back to front, she didn’t want to leave it unattended.

She shrunk into her coat as the cold air bit at her cheeks and flushed them while she locked the front door to the shop.  If she wasn’t afraid of busting her butt, she would have run straight home to get out of the cold sooner, which was only getting worse as the daylight slowly died out.  With the sharp edge to the wind, she guessed a storm would be moving in overnight.

Her eyes fixed on her feet to watch her hurried but careful steps, which kept her eyes off the path in front of her.  And sent the blunette crashing right into someone and knocking her bag out of her hands into the snow.  “Shoot!”  I’m so sorry,” she burst, quickly stooping down to gather her things.  

“It’s fine, miss,” a smooth male voice answered, and before she could grab the one item most important, he beat her to it.  Nimble fingers grasped the worn notebook and lifted it from the snow, turning so slightly in his grip that she almost missed it.   Her stomach dropped, but all he did was hand it to her, and get up wordlessly to continue on his way.  

“Ah, th-thanks!” Levy called after him, but he was already gone.  She sat there a moment staring in the direction he had gone before she, slowly rearranged her belongings into her bag.  Levy carefully got back up to her feet, shivered, and kept on her way home.

The yellow glow of her street was a welcome sight, and she warmed herself thinking about the heat inside her home.  Numb fingers struggled to open her front door, and once inside she made a beeline straight for her thermostat to turn on the heat.  She slipped out of her coat, hung it on a hook by the door and kicked off her boots.  Levy flipped on the lights on her way to the fireplace, and picked up some small logs stacked by the mantle to toss in before starting up the fire.  The warmth was more than welcome and brought the sensation back into her fingers.

With a relaxed smile on her face, Levy went to plug in her phone to a set of speakers and turned on some soft music.  A hum rose in her to accompany the melody as she set about warming up some soup she had made the night before; she needed something to ease her nerves.  While waiting for the food to be ready, she wandered into her room to change out of her work clothes and into warm, pale yellow pajamas.   Levy pulled her yellow headband from her hair and ruffled it a little.

The chime of the microwave brought her back out into the kitchen.  She had just set the bowl on the small kitchen table, when a sharp tap at the window nearly shook her out of her skin as she threw her spoon across the room.  So much for that.  She swung her panicked gaze to the double doors, and connected with the ruby gaze.

“Gajeel!” she gasped, catching sight of the very amused man outside.  She rushed over to the doors in the kitchen and pulled them open, “Get in here!  You’ll let all the heat out,” she urged as he stepped in, covered in flakes, and quickly shut the doors again.  

Much to her dismay he shook himself out, scattering snow all over her kitchen.  “You’re a hard one to catch alone these days,” he remarked, ignoring her displeasure at the shed of flurries, ”also nice toss,”  He commented with a cock of his head to the spoon now on the floor.  An embarrassed grumble escaped her as she rushed to pick up the utensil and wipe it off with her shirt, and to also hide the small red tinge in her cheeks.  The jovial, familiar attitude was not what she had expected, and it made it even clearer that there had been a tangible shift in their interactions with one another.  Also unexpected, was the fact he appeared to her as himself, as flesh.  Not iron.

His red eyes swept over her, taking in the small girl and her attire.  He tried to refine the details of his memory, having distanced himself from the real thing.  Fuckin’ hell, I can’t look away.  How did I even last this long, he thought, his gaze lingering on her face. On her gentle brown eyes, on the flush of her cheeks.

“That’s your fault.  Stupid,” she muttered, but she couldn’t help smiling at the black coat and the red scarf that was wrapped around his head to keep his hair back.  He looked comfortable, and her responsibility for that was warming.  But more noticeable, was that he hadn’t changed.  He stood before her just as himself, not as the iron dragon that had invaded her thoughts menacingly in the dark.  Guilt pricked sharply in her chest for what her imagination had done, and she shoved it away.

The dragon quickly made himself at home and pulled out a chair, straddling it backwards and crossing his arms over the back. “Where ya been?” he asked now, softer.  Levy felt her cheeks warm and a flutter in her stomach.  

“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied with an arched brow.  He quickly averted his gaze to the side with a slight, guilty grimace, and she immediately felt bad for asking.  “I’ve been working,” Levy added, trying to pull the focus back to herself.  

Gajeel grimaced and huffed, resting his hands and chin on the back of the chair.  “What’re you doin’ that for.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, and turned to scoop an extra bowl of soup without really thinking about it.  “Cause I have to, silly,” she responded, setting the bowl in front of him before she took her own seat next to him at the table.  “It’s terrible out there, why’d you come out in weather like this?” Levy asked, blowing on a spoonful of soup.  Gajeel had glanced curiously at his bowl and sniffed before he took his own bite.  The warm food, the crackling fire, the gentle music in the background, and the enthralling creature next to him were all incredibly domestic.  Where, along the line, did I end up deserving something like this?

“I wanted to see ya,” he mumbled after swallowing his mouthful.  It’s too damn exhaustin’ to not say it.  What I got to lose? he thought, studying her face, Well…that’s a stupid question.  Her, obviously.  But I can’t be anything but honest to a face like that.

To his delight, Levy’s face flushed again and her soup suddenly became the most interesting thing in the room.  “Oh,” she responded, scarfing down another mouthful.  She had expected a level of novel curiosity from him regarding a world that had cast him out, but she didn’t quite expect him to so outwardly admit that she was his reason to come back.

“I, I tried,” Gajeel struggled with the words, trying to justify his own absence,  But in reality, he couldn’t come up with a reason other than the fact he was afraid to return.  That night and what he had felt stirring in his chest frankly startled him away from the bewitching little fairy.  He’d made it several days through one-sided conversations with his little black cat, but eventually his resolve cracked.  He remembered perfectly clearly the paths his thoughts took that day as he ventured to the 2nd floor for her and retrieved one of the foul-smelling, terrible books from his office.  Or what remained of it.  Gajeel had been overwhelmingly compelled to do something he’d never imagine, but he felt he needed to give her a piece of the truth.  She’s seen him, but she hadn’t known him yet.  Much as he hated it, what had been done to him was all he had to offer in terms of his identity.  He had no stories of his youth, no memories, nothing to give her.  Only part of the notes that chronicled his beginnings into this life.  

Gajeel stole away to her home, ready to hand the book to her and allow her to see.  He remembered feeling exhilarated, and absolutely terrified that the doors were left open for him.  But upon coming inside, he knew right away she wasn’t there.  The house was silent; still.  Disappointment twisted his stomach, but when he saw the clothing she left for him, hope renewed.  In that moment, he felt absolute relief that a safer option had presented itself to him, and he left the notebook in place of the clothes.  He resolved then to make himself wait before trying to meet her again, unsure how Levy would take the information.  He needed to give her time to absorb it.

The dragon moved a little in his seat. “You…read it right?” he asked tentatively.  It was the elephant in the room and he wanted to get it out of the way.

Levy stopped and stared at the table, before nodding, “Yeah.”

The flat tone left Gajeel feeling incredibly nervous.  She had let him inside, sat comfortably next to him, but she wasn’t looking at him.  His stomach sunk, and the dark, self loathing voices swirled in his head, working quickly to convince him that she would turn him away.

“I read it,” she said, and looked to him then.  “X777 was you?”

He grit his teeth and tensed his shoulders, looking away from her now.  It was strangely painful to hear the classification coming from her, even if he knew how she meant it.  “Yes,” he responded, keeping his gaze on the table.  What should he say?  What could he?  Are you going to run?  Will you send me away?  Expose me?

The silence was suffocating, constricting even.  He felt his chest tighten so much that he felt the only possible relief was to leave again.  The lack of words from her felt like just as much an answer as any, and it was all he needed.  Wordlessly, he moved suddenly in his chair to go.

Something stopped him.  Gajeel heard her shift, heard the chair slide on the hardwood floor, and he had just turned to face her but only saw blue.  His red eyes widened and his heart nearly stopped as a soft warmth settled over him.  Levy had wound her arms around his neck and nestled her face into his shoulder, barely having to bend to reach his height.  Especially since he sat up stick-straight as soon as he realized what was happening.  What is she doing!?  The contact was strange, it baffled him and set his every sense alight.  In every one of his memories, Gajeel had no recollection of ever having been touched in this way.  He became hyperaware; he could feel her breath on his neck, he could feel the hairs on his arms stand up, he could hear his blood in his ears…

“I’m so sorry,” Levy whimpered, her voice cracking.  There was the smell of salt, and Gajeel’s heart began to race.  “I am so sorry for what they did to you, I–” her voice broke with her tears and she held him tighter, her small frame shaking.  “It’s unthinkable.”

“Sh-shorty?” Gajeel stammered, lifting his hands in front of him a little, unsure where to put them.  “H-hey, what’re ya cryin’ for? ” he tried to sound even a little bit composed, but all he managed was barely controlled distress.  

“I’m not...” Levy mumbled and sniffed, holding him tighter.  I want….to ask about the article.  But…now isn’t right.  

Gajeel, finally, relaxed and angled himself to face her more directly. Slowly, he lifted his hands to place one on the back of her head, tangling into her hair.  The other went around her waist, pulling her sideways into his lap.  She did not protest, her stomach did flips, but she continued to cling to him.  At least he couldn’t see her face like this.  He closed his eyes, pressing his nose into her neck, his clouded mind soaring with how right she fit against him.  Thank you, Lev.

After several long moments, she pulled away from him, but not without a bit of resistance from him first.  She leaned back, took his face in her hands, and locked his gaze.  “Please stay here.”

Levy fidgeted nervously with the edge of the blanket she had wrapped around herself, staring into the fire with her back against the couch.  The sound of the fire, crackling and hissing, tried to overpower the sound of running water in the background.  When that didn’t suffice, she tried to focus on the sound of her music, which helped only a little.  The blunette glanced to the clock on the wall, surprised that it wasn’t as late as she thought it was.   Maybe because it felt like an eternity since she had offered for him, a man, to use her shower.  At night.  

She had been the one that insisted, knowing how nice a hot shower, especially on a cold night, could feel.  And really… when had he been able to use one last?  Levy was just trying to be helpful.  But she definitely had not planned ahead to the point where she would be sitting here waiting, by herself, while he was in her shower.  There were places her thoughts had started to wander, but with flaming cheeks and violent head shakes, she dashed them away.  It’s not even a big deal.  I’m just giving him basic necessities, she tried to tell herself.  

“You really gotta get stuff that doesn’t all smell like flowers.  Makin’ me smell like a damn fairy,” his voice startled her, and she jumped while looking to him abruptly.  Immediately, her face went red.

He stood there, rubbing his mane roughly with the towel she had lent him.  The flannel pants she had found seemed to fit well, and more than that the old green t-shirt she had dug up clung to him tightly, dampened by his poor job at drying his hair.  

Gajeel, noticing her stare, shifted uncomfortably, “What?”

Levy shook her head a bit too fervently and pulled her blanket up to her face a little.  “Nothing!” she answered quickly, glancing again at his untamed hair.  She furrowed her brow before she got up quickly, much to his surprise, and marched back to the bathroom in the hall.  He could only watch her with lifted brows, his hand that held the towel dropping a little.

She returned with a brush and comb in hand, and pointed to the floor in front of the couch.  “Sit there,” Levy instructed bluntly.  Normally, there might have been a smartass reply, or some kind of retort, but Gajeel was far too intrigued to come up with anything.  Quietly, he took a seat, and she moved to settle crosslegged behind him up on the couch.  He looked over his shoulder at her, the questions playing on his face.  Levy merely took his head in her hands, and pointed his face away from her.  “Hand me the towel and then hold still,” she said softly.  Compliantly, he reached back and gave her the towel.

She draped the towel over his shoulders, then sifted her delicate fingers through his hair to pull it up and rest it all on top of the towel, bringing a visible shudder from him.  He’ll catch cold if all that water drenches his shirt.  Slowly and much to Gajeel’s surprise, she started to work the brush through, being careful not to yank on any of his many, thick tangles.  She mumbled quiet apologies every time he tensed, but they otherwise sat in silence, with her music still playing in the background and the fire slowly dying out.  

Eventually, Gajeel allowed his eyes to close and he leaned his head back.  Her touch sent chills throughout him and settled a profound sense of peace in his chest.  He wasn’t ready to run, ready to defend himself, ready to scare off intruders.  Not a single other thing existed to him other than her and her touch.

Levy smiled softly to herself, enjoying the peace just as much.  The quiet wasn’t unusual for her.  The company, however, was.  Sure, she had Lucy, but that was very different from what she had here.  Levy had spent days trying to sort out how different.  But here, now, as they were, there was no more thought needed.  

Section by section, she sifted through his hair and delicately worked out the tangles, moving methodically and zoning out into the process.  She was unsure of how much time had passed when she had worked through all of that black mane of his, but the fire had reduced to cinders and his hair was almost completely dry.  Quietly, she set the brush aside and contented herself with running her fingers through his hair.  Her eyes were heavy, and eventually she settled onto her side, still idly playing with the strands around her fingers.  

“Gajeel?” Levy spoke up finally, her voice heavy with sleep.

“Hmm?” the dragon rumbled.

“Is Lily okay on nights like these?”  

Gajeel chuckled, resting his head back on the couch, “He’s great.  All the rats come inside when it gets cold like this so he has a field day.  It’s his favorite.”  Amusement hung on his tone.

Levy smiled, “That’s good.”  Her voice was barely audible as she twirled a lock around her finger.  “You know…you can bring him here if you want.”  

Gajeel huffed a small laugh, “If I stay here long enough he’ll probably find his way here eventually.”

Her face warmed and the familiar flutter in her stomach accompanied it.  If you stay…  Levy was no longer surprised by the fact that she didn’t want him to leave.  It was a feeling she couldn’t describe well, but she felt like he belonged here.  The idea of him going back to the way things had been for him, hiding in the dark by himself, was no longer something she could imagine.  And she could tell he felt the same.  There was an unspoken settling that had happened tonight, and to her it felt like a victory.  “Do you,” she started, taking a second to find the courage for the words, “do you want to stay?”

He glanced back at her and met her gaze.  There was a need, something in her eyes that made him feel like he didn’t belong anywhere else but here.  If he didn’t know better he might think she was begging him to.  “If you let me,” he replied.

“As long as you’d like,” she closed her eyes finally.  “It’s not so empty…with you here,” Levy barely whispered, finally losing the battle with sleep.

Gajeel took in the slumbering girl behind him, wrapped up in the knit blanket.  It felt strange, having someone rely on him like that.  But he wanted nothing more than to never let her down, to be the best that he could be for her.  Is this what purpose feels like? he thought, reaching back to pull the blanket up over her shoulder.  His hand lingered, and he brushed his scarred knuckles against her warm cheek.  The size difference, the roughness of his skin and the satin of hers was jarring. Gajeel’s eyes settled on her pink lips, lingering there pointedly.  There was a heat that rose in his chest, followed by a fear that was different from what he had known before.  Abruptly, he looked away, biting his lip.  Fuck.  His hand found its way to his forehead, massaging his temple.  What the hell is this?  I’ve never felt anything like this before.  My stomach is in knots.

Slowly, he glanced back at her again, watching the rise and fall of her sides with each breath.  He took a moment to look around the room, the take in the sounds around him and memorize how quiet it was so he would know abruptly if something was out of place.  She was vulnerable, small, and he had quietly tasked himself with guarding her.  He knew how dark the world could be, the types of people that still lurked out there, and he’d be damned if he ever let any of that touch her.