Fics that have nothing to do with fic duel. But Isabelle is awake, so I'm not going to argue.
Title: Third Time’s the Charm
Fandom: 07-Ghost
Theme: Reincarnation
Pairing: Castor/Razette
Rating: G
She always hated it how her interview day always fell on her birthday as well. “Interview” was, of course, a loose term with h, but that’s what they had continued to call it for sixteen- now seventeen- years. She would smile when her name was called, and she would be cheerful for the ladies at the orphanage as always.
But no one would come. She knew this by now. Even if she were not a defective child- unable to speak even though her hearing was perfectly fine- she was now far too old to hope to be given a real home. Cheerful and optimistic as she was, she was not stupid. Parents wanted babies- and it hurt her every time she saw one of them leave in the arms of his or her new parents. Their new family.
What she did look forward to every year, however, were the gifts. Since she had arrived at the chapel orphanage as a small child, they had been sitting for her on the doorstep at dawn with a note attached to them that said only her name. It made her feel like there was someone that perhaps did love her- although the fact that she would rather have been given a family than a thousand gifts was something she had never been able to voice to this mysterious benefactor.
She had tried, of course. But the notes on the doorstep where the gifts would be left would be gone by the next morning. And nothing else would answer them until the gift on her next birthday.
There was no gift this year, and at this her heart had sunken lower than usual. Had she finally angered her anonymous benefactor by daring to ask for the one thing they would not give?
Regardless, she heard them- the woman she had grown up referring to as ‘Momma,’ or she would if she were able to speak- was arguing with a distinctly masculine voice in the office next to the girl’s bed hall. The sound of disbelief was thick in her voice, but it was not reflected at all in the unusually calm words of her opponent. Curiosity ate at her, and she desperately wanted to know what was causing such a ruckus.
Long, slender fingers smoothed down the wrinkled folds of her best green- sea foam green- dress as she stood up and regarded herself carefully in the mirror. The dress had been her birthday present from last year- from the same mysterious soul who left her all the gifts previously. Not even Momma knew where they came from. When she was much smaller, they arrived on the orphanage’s doorstep in the form of shells, sea glass, or drawings- objects she still kept by her bed.
Then there were stories written out in beautiful script about a girl who was gifted to a wealthy man as a slave. The girl and the man fell into a deep love that, although the characters themselves did, never died. It was a beautiful tale, and despite the tragic ending, she always found herself wishing for just a moment she could be the slave girl written upon the parchment pages. She still cried- with a smile on her face- when she read it years later.
The puppet two years ago had startled Momma, if for no other reason than the fact that it was a breathtaking likeness of her fifteen year old self with clothing so fine that it should have been made by a master craftsman for the wealthiest of princesses and not a doll of herself. And as for the dress that the figure in the mirror wore staring back at her, it felt like it had been created for her. The young woman tucked her one stray lock of rosy hair behind her ear and met the reflections of her own eyes in determination before endeavoring to journey towards and push open the heavy wooden office door.
“All that I am saying, sir, is that I find you far too young to adopt someone of her age….” Momma’s voice trailed off as her eyes fell on the intruding girl. She felt her own heart jump in her chest for a moment. Her own attention was fixed upon the handsome, bespectacled stranger standing beside the older woman. At her entrance, his lips curved into a smile.
“Razette.” He called her, as if he were greeting someone he had known his entire life. It was not the name she had been born with- she no longer knew that one- and it certainly wasn’t the name that Momma and the rest of the orphanage’s ladies and children called her, but something about the name tugged at her heart in a way that should not have been possible for something never heard before. He held out a palm to her, and its contents made her eyes widen with shock and Momma fall eerily silent. In his palm rested a delicate bracelet adorned with charms of silver shells and green sea-glass bubbles.
“I’m sorry I was late.” He looked at the floor in something that looked like regret before meeting her eyes again with the smallest of smiles. “I wanted to deliver this one in person.. I wanted to see you this time.” Scarcely understanding what it was that she was doing, she held out one of her slender wrists- trying to find it in herself to comprehend just what exactly he was implying with that statement- while he clasped the gift around it. “You…haven’t changed much. I’m relieved.” He tuned back to Momma with a new determination in his eyes. “I meet the minimum age requirement to become her legal guardian now, do I not?”
Her eyebrows knit together at this man whom she found suspicious. “You are barely four years older than her. I cannot, and I will not allow it. Momma crossed her arms in defiance. She couldn’t say why, but the young rose-haired girl wanted desperately for Momma to change her mind. Yes, she should have found everything about this situation odd, but that didn’t change the fact that someone wanted her.
And something about it being him made it all the more desperate- although she could not for her life tell Momma why.
“Well.” He said quietly, pushing up his glasses as if her refusal was nothing more than water upon the shoreline rocks. He took her hand in his own and looked at her, although he still talked to the orphanage matron. “If you will not let me adopt her, I shall simply have to marry her.” It was unlikely that her eyes could have gotten any bigger, and her jaw dropped slightly as she gaped at him. As for Momma, her rage at this sentiment melted into complete and utter disbelief.
“Why?! Why are you so Verloren-bent on taking this one home with you. Out of all the children we have here?”
He ignored the older woman for a moment, instead looking down at her. It felt so familiar- the look he gave to her. She knew it. She’d seen that face a thousand times before, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t understood what he was trying to say to her in all his gifts throughout the years.
“Razette.” He said softly- for her ears only. “Do you know who I am?” She could have laughed at the question’s absurdity. He was her mysterious benefactor, he was her protector. He was the rich gentleman in the story of their first tragic life together, and he was the one who bound their souls together for eternity.
‘Castor.’ She couldn’t actually say it, but she formed the letters with her lips with a smile. Her mirrored that expression with one of his own and squeezed her hand before finally addressing Momma’s question.
“Would you believe I’ve loved her for two lifetimes already? Maybe this time we‘ll actually be allowed to.”
~.~.~
Title: Ready, Aim, Elwind
Fandom: Fire Emblem (Radiant Dawn)
Theme: None
Characters: Edward, Leonardo (Edward/Leonardo if you want to see it there), Sothe, Titania, and one very bad-tempered wind sage.
Rating: PG
“Edward, no. You must aim higher.” Leonardo found his hand colliding with his forehead in dismay. The arrow hadn’t hit the target- or even the board for that matter. Instead, all of Edward’s arrows had found themselves firmly planted in the grass. How had he been roped into this again?
“Try again.” The brunette swordsman once again lifted his arms and the bow, and notched an arrow with all the grace of an intoxicated penguin. The blonde archer winced as Edward held the bow in a clumsy death grip before releasing the string. Just as before, Leonardo found yet another one of his precious stock of arrows fly low through the air only to land point-down in the greenery that surrounded the target face and underlay the camp. He clenched his fists and only answered with one very tense word.
“Again!” He barked.
The next arrow flew higher this time- much to Edward’s obvious satisfaction. It was also, as Leonardo noticed, horrendously off-course. And unfortunately, off course only referred to Edward’s target and not to the green-haired man walking by seemingly minding his own business- likely on the way to visit Micaiah or his idolized General Ike. Thankfully, Sothe had been skilled for years at dodging objects projected at him in the name of friendly fire. It was, as Leonardo only mentioned to himself for his own safety, the projectiles of the enemy that Sothe had problems evading. Regardless, the belly-shirted rogue managed to avoid being skewered by the means of one of his extremely showy backflips.
“What the hell was that?” Sothe asked wide-eyed. Leonardo only sighed- still standing perfectly straight but with eyes closed in frustration.
“I am teaching Edward how to properly wield a bow.”
One forest-green eyebrow arched in confusion as the older boy looked from him to Edward, to the bow and than back to the swordsman. Sothe was quiet for a long while before finally turning his gaze back to Leonardo. “You realize, Leonardo, that this-”
“Can only end in tragedy. I know.” The archer finished for him.
Edward dropped his arms in disbelief. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” He asked- his voice uncharacteristically whiny.
“Because your aim is atrocious.” Leaonardo stated in a very matter-of-fact manner. “And do not even get me started on your execution.”
Leonardo’s insult was met by an unpleasant expression mirrored on the other boy’s face. Edward wordlessly brought the bow and another arrow up in order to shoot yet another pointed projectile towards the general area of the target. What the blonde also noticed, however, was the flash of red emerging from a nearby tent.
“Madame! Look out!”
The crazy thing to Leonardo was the fact that the fire-haired knight actually saw the rogue arrow- or he had to wonder what wasn’t a rogue arrow with Edward. But rather she just watched as the speeding long-ranched weapon struck her breastplate-
And bounced off. She arched her eyebrow at both of them- the one who had shot her and the one that had been naïve enough to assume that she couldn’t handle something such as a rogue arrow. Leonardo resisted the urge to shrink behind Edward as he often did against paladins in battle. And then he remembered that Edward was not carrying a sword. Edward was carrying a bow- a weapon he was proving himself unable to use properly even if his life depended on it.
And as for Sothe? Well, he was laughing so hard that it made the blonde want to stick his head in the dirt- and he wasn’t even the one who shot the arrow. Titania bent down, picked up the arrow lying on the ground and pointed the feathered end towards Edward.
“No damage,” she said flatly, and passed the arrow to a dumbstruck blonde archer as she passed him on her way out. Sothe, damn him, only laughed harder. Personally Leonardo was just glad that she hadn’t actually had an axe on her person. He mimicked Titania’s gesture and pointed the feathered end at his myrmidon companion.
“You! You have to learn to aim!” He shouted.
“I’m a myrmidon. We don’t aim, we slash things!”
“Then why in the dark god’s hell are we doing this?!”
“Because I wanted to learn to impress you!”
“Well you’re a far cry from that!”
“Well you know what? I’ll show you!” Edward shouted and then picked up one more arrow- this one from the ground- and notched it to the bow. Leonardo watched with ire, but noticed out of the corner of his eye that Sothe’s jovial demeanor had suddenly shifted into one of dread.
“Edward! Don’t-”
Edward ignored the green-haired man, of course, and proceeded to let the arrow fly. As with all the other arrows that the myrmidon had attempted to shoot that day, it missed the target completely. Leonardo, however, noticed the source of Sothe’s anxiety just a little bit too late- in just enough time to hear a thud of an arrow going through a very solid substance.
A book, to be specific.
Or to be even more specific, a book held up to protect a dark-headed wind sage’s face. A very angry wind sage who peered around his Elwind tome that currently had one very conspicuous arrow sticking out of it. Soren- with strength he had no idea that the young sage possessed- pulled said arrow out of his tome with one swift, jerky gesture. Unnerving red eyes burned as he glanced at both the arrow Leonardo was holding and the bow in Edward’s hand. Sothe, being the smarter one of the three, was nowhere to be seen.
“Go ahead” Edward whispered. His eyes never left the seething sage. “You know you want to say it.”
“Later,” Leonardo answered back. “Right now there’s only one thing I want to say.” He dropped the arrow when he saw Soren crack open the book.
“What’s that?” The blonde began to hear chanting and Edward twitched.
“RUN!”
Fandom: 07-Ghost
Theme: Reincarnation
Pairing: Castor/Razette
Rating: G
She always hated it how her interview day always fell on her birthday as well. “Interview” was, of course, a loose term with h, but that’s what they had continued to call it for sixteen- now seventeen- years. She would smile when her name was called, and she would be cheerful for the ladies at the orphanage as always.
But no one would come. She knew this by now. Even if she were not a defective child- unable to speak even though her hearing was perfectly fine- she was now far too old to hope to be given a real home. Cheerful and optimistic as she was, she was not stupid. Parents wanted babies- and it hurt her every time she saw one of them leave in the arms of his or her new parents. Their new family.
What she did look forward to every year, however, were the gifts. Since she had arrived at the chapel orphanage as a small child, they had been sitting for her on the doorstep at dawn with a note attached to them that said only her name. It made her feel like there was someone that perhaps did love her- although the fact that she would rather have been given a family than a thousand gifts was something she had never been able to voice to this mysterious benefactor.
She had tried, of course. But the notes on the doorstep where the gifts would be left would be gone by the next morning. And nothing else would answer them until the gift on her next birthday.
There was no gift this year, and at this her heart had sunken lower than usual. Had she finally angered her anonymous benefactor by daring to ask for the one thing they would not give?
Regardless, she heard them- the woman she had grown up referring to as ‘Momma,’ or she would if she were able to speak- was arguing with a distinctly masculine voice in the office next to the girl’s bed hall. The sound of disbelief was thick in her voice, but it was not reflected at all in the unusually calm words of her opponent. Curiosity ate at her, and she desperately wanted to know what was causing such a ruckus.
Long, slender fingers smoothed down the wrinkled folds of her best green- sea foam green- dress as she stood up and regarded herself carefully in the mirror. The dress had been her birthday present from last year- from the same mysterious soul who left her all the gifts previously. Not even Momma knew where they came from. When she was much smaller, they arrived on the orphanage’s doorstep in the form of shells, sea glass, or drawings- objects she still kept by her bed.
Then there were stories written out in beautiful script about a girl who was gifted to a wealthy man as a slave. The girl and the man fell into a deep love that, although the characters themselves did, never died. It was a beautiful tale, and despite the tragic ending, she always found herself wishing for just a moment she could be the slave girl written upon the parchment pages. She still cried- with a smile on her face- when she read it years later.
The puppet two years ago had startled Momma, if for no other reason than the fact that it was a breathtaking likeness of her fifteen year old self with clothing so fine that it should have been made by a master craftsman for the wealthiest of princesses and not a doll of herself. And as for the dress that the figure in the mirror wore staring back at her, it felt like it had been created for her. The young woman tucked her one stray lock of rosy hair behind her ear and met the reflections of her own eyes in determination before endeavoring to journey towards and push open the heavy wooden office door.
“All that I am saying, sir, is that I find you far too young to adopt someone of her age….” Momma’s voice trailed off as her eyes fell on the intruding girl. She felt her own heart jump in her chest for a moment. Her own attention was fixed upon the handsome, bespectacled stranger standing beside the older woman. At her entrance, his lips curved into a smile.
“Razette.” He called her, as if he were greeting someone he had known his entire life. It was not the name she had been born with- she no longer knew that one- and it certainly wasn’t the name that Momma and the rest of the orphanage’s ladies and children called her, but something about the name tugged at her heart in a way that should not have been possible for something never heard before. He held out a palm to her, and its contents made her eyes widen with shock and Momma fall eerily silent. In his palm rested a delicate bracelet adorned with charms of silver shells and green sea-glass bubbles.
“I’m sorry I was late.” He looked at the floor in something that looked like regret before meeting her eyes again with the smallest of smiles. “I wanted to deliver this one in person.. I wanted to see you this time.” Scarcely understanding what it was that she was doing, she held out one of her slender wrists- trying to find it in herself to comprehend just what exactly he was implying with that statement- while he clasped the gift around it. “You…haven’t changed much. I’m relieved.” He tuned back to Momma with a new determination in his eyes. “I meet the minimum age requirement to become her legal guardian now, do I not?”
Her eyebrows knit together at this man whom she found suspicious. “You are barely four years older than her. I cannot, and I will not allow it. Momma crossed her arms in defiance. She couldn’t say why, but the young rose-haired girl wanted desperately for Momma to change her mind. Yes, she should have found everything about this situation odd, but that didn’t change the fact that someone wanted her.
And something about it being him made it all the more desperate- although she could not for her life tell Momma why.
“Well.” He said quietly, pushing up his glasses as if her refusal was nothing more than water upon the shoreline rocks. He took her hand in his own and looked at her, although he still talked to the orphanage matron. “If you will not let me adopt her, I shall simply have to marry her.” It was unlikely that her eyes could have gotten any bigger, and her jaw dropped slightly as she gaped at him. As for Momma, her rage at this sentiment melted into complete and utter disbelief.
“Why?! Why are you so Verloren-bent on taking this one home with you. Out of all the children we have here?”
He ignored the older woman for a moment, instead looking down at her. It felt so familiar- the look he gave to her. She knew it. She’d seen that face a thousand times before, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t understood what he was trying to say to her in all his gifts throughout the years.
“Razette.” He said softly- for her ears only. “Do you know who I am?” She could have laughed at the question’s absurdity. He was her mysterious benefactor, he was her protector. He was the rich gentleman in the story of their first tragic life together, and he was the one who bound their souls together for eternity.
‘Castor.’ She couldn’t actually say it, but she formed the letters with her lips with a smile. Her mirrored that expression with one of his own and squeezed her hand before finally addressing Momma’s question.
“Would you believe I’ve loved her for two lifetimes already? Maybe this time we‘ll actually be allowed to.”
~.~.~
Title: Ready, Aim, Elwind
Fandom: Fire Emblem (Radiant Dawn)
Theme: None
Characters: Edward, Leonardo (Edward/Leonardo if you want to see it there), Sothe, Titania, and one very bad-tempered wind sage.
Rating: PG
“Edward, no. You must aim higher.” Leonardo found his hand colliding with his forehead in dismay. The arrow hadn’t hit the target- or even the board for that matter. Instead, all of Edward’s arrows had found themselves firmly planted in the grass. How had he been roped into this again?
“Try again.” The brunette swordsman once again lifted his arms and the bow, and notched an arrow with all the grace of an intoxicated penguin. The blonde archer winced as Edward held the bow in a clumsy death grip before releasing the string. Just as before, Leonardo found yet another one of his precious stock of arrows fly low through the air only to land point-down in the greenery that surrounded the target face and underlay the camp. He clenched his fists and only answered with one very tense word.
“Again!” He barked.
The next arrow flew higher this time- much to Edward’s obvious satisfaction. It was also, as Leonardo noticed, horrendously off-course. And unfortunately, off course only referred to Edward’s target and not to the green-haired man walking by seemingly minding his own business- likely on the way to visit Micaiah or his idolized General Ike. Thankfully, Sothe had been skilled for years at dodging objects projected at him in the name of friendly fire. It was, as Leonardo only mentioned to himself for his own safety, the projectiles of the enemy that Sothe had problems evading. Regardless, the belly-shirted rogue managed to avoid being skewered by the means of one of his extremely showy backflips.
“What the hell was that?” Sothe asked wide-eyed. Leonardo only sighed- still standing perfectly straight but with eyes closed in frustration.
“I am teaching Edward how to properly wield a bow.”
One forest-green eyebrow arched in confusion as the older boy looked from him to Edward, to the bow and than back to the swordsman. Sothe was quiet for a long while before finally turning his gaze back to Leonardo. “You realize, Leonardo, that this-”
“Can only end in tragedy. I know.” The archer finished for him.
Edward dropped his arms in disbelief. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” He asked- his voice uncharacteristically whiny.
“Because your aim is atrocious.” Leaonardo stated in a very matter-of-fact manner. “And do not even get me started on your execution.”
Leonardo’s insult was met by an unpleasant expression mirrored on the other boy’s face. Edward wordlessly brought the bow and another arrow up in order to shoot yet another pointed projectile towards the general area of the target. What the blonde also noticed, however, was the flash of red emerging from a nearby tent.
“Madame! Look out!”
The crazy thing to Leonardo was the fact that the fire-haired knight actually saw the rogue arrow- or he had to wonder what wasn’t a rogue arrow with Edward. But rather she just watched as the speeding long-ranched weapon struck her breastplate-
And bounced off. She arched her eyebrow at both of them- the one who had shot her and the one that had been naïve enough to assume that she couldn’t handle something such as a rogue arrow. Leonardo resisted the urge to shrink behind Edward as he often did against paladins in battle. And then he remembered that Edward was not carrying a sword. Edward was carrying a bow- a weapon he was proving himself unable to use properly even if his life depended on it.
And as for Sothe? Well, he was laughing so hard that it made the blonde want to stick his head in the dirt- and he wasn’t even the one who shot the arrow. Titania bent down, picked up the arrow lying on the ground and pointed the feathered end towards Edward.
“No damage,” she said flatly, and passed the arrow to a dumbstruck blonde archer as she passed him on her way out. Sothe, damn him, only laughed harder. Personally Leonardo was just glad that she hadn’t actually had an axe on her person. He mimicked Titania’s gesture and pointed the feathered end at his myrmidon companion.
“You! You have to learn to aim!” He shouted.
“I’m a myrmidon. We don’t aim, we slash things!”
“Then why in the dark god’s hell are we doing this?!”
“Because I wanted to learn to impress you!”
“Well you’re a far cry from that!”
“Well you know what? I’ll show you!” Edward shouted and then picked up one more arrow- this one from the ground- and notched it to the bow. Leonardo watched with ire, but noticed out of the corner of his eye that Sothe’s jovial demeanor had suddenly shifted into one of dread.
“Edward! Don’t-”
Edward ignored the green-haired man, of course, and proceeded to let the arrow fly. As with all the other arrows that the myrmidon had attempted to shoot that day, it missed the target completely. Leonardo, however, noticed the source of Sothe’s anxiety just a little bit too late- in just enough time to hear a thud of an arrow going through a very solid substance.
A book, to be specific.
Or to be even more specific, a book held up to protect a dark-headed wind sage’s face. A very angry wind sage who peered around his Elwind tome that currently had one very conspicuous arrow sticking out of it. Soren- with strength he had no idea that the young sage possessed- pulled said arrow out of his tome with one swift, jerky gesture. Unnerving red eyes burned as he glanced at both the arrow Leonardo was holding and the bow in Edward’s hand. Sothe, being the smarter one of the three, was nowhere to be seen.
“Go ahead” Edward whispered. His eyes never left the seething sage. “You know you want to say it.”
“Later,” Leonardo answered back. “Right now there’s only one thing I want to say.” He dropped the arrow when he saw Soren crack open the book.
“What’s that?” The blonde began to hear chanting and Edward twitched.
“RUN!”