#beafic

[screamting]

Fanfic updated! DC/MArvel crossover chapter 9 link will be in reblog to make it into the tumblr search function hopefully

[beabaseball]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Kairi & Riku & Sora (Kingdom Hearts) Characters: Roxas (Kingdom Hearts), Axel (Kingdom Hearts), Ansem the Wise, Ansem Seeker of Darkness, Xehanort (Kingdom Hearts), Organization XIII Ensemble (Kingdom Hearts) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark Premise Summary:

Role Reversal AU.

The stars have long been put out.

If nothing changes, it's only a matter of time before this one is, too.

[undertalescreeching]

What were Chara's thoughts/feelings learning about the war between humans and monsters? Like the war itself, if that's something they were taught?

(I love you)Man, like... they’re not surprised. See, for the monsters, the war is a big deal because it was The War. The war that literally ended their entire world. Their world ended and they had to enter a new one. That’s not just a paradigm shift, that’s a fucking SINGULARITY.

Monsters talk about The War like they talk about the beginning of their civilization--because they are, basically. Like. That is where their history begins. They have some relics from the past like the Delta Rune, but overall it’s like talking about the first time written language was introduced to an area. Like, yeah, you know stuff happened before then, but like, WHAT EVEN HAPPENED?

So when the monsters teach Chara about the war, they treat it in the most delicate way they knew how, because, well-- it’s THE WAR. It’s the defining event of history. Moreso than even the creation of the CORE. Can you imagine an event infinitely more important than the invention of electricity? Now imagine you have a child, someone who hasn’t grown up with the knowledge of that event, who has only just learned of the event’s consequences by stumbling into a cave full of them, who knows nothing of it-- all the child monsters grew up knowing about the war culturally.

But how do you explain it to someone who’s gotten to a certain age knowing nothing?

They treat it with the utmost care, and for the first half a year, they don’t ever mention the war around Chara. What sort of effect would it even have on this frail little human, anyway? They’ve barely recovered from their broken leg, how would they handle knowing it was THEIR RACE’S fault for sealing monsters in this prison after a horrible, terrifying war??

But they must, eventually, tell them, and when they do--

Chara doesn’t care.

....

Or, they do care. That’s not fully accurate. But they don’t faint. They don’t cry. They aren’t taken aback at all. They aren’t horrified.

They’re upset, sure, but-- but the extend of their upsetness isn’t something the monsters are familiar with. Because it’s so mild. It’s so... “of course we would do that.”

“Of course we’d lock people in a mountain. Ugh.”

“Of course we had a war.”

“Of course.”

“Is there anything we can’t destroy?”

“Ugh.”

And the monsters have to wonder what even has happened in the over-world for a human child to react to a war with nothing but disgruntlement and resignation

[screamting]

They've survived the end of the world again, but something still doesn't feel right, and Natasha is going to find out why--starting with finding out who else seems to have tried to burrow through the Quantum Realm other than the Avengers.

[screamting]

Unexpectedly shunted into another dimension a year after the creation of the Justice League, Superman finds himself staring down a strange situation with a struggling Batman and Robin, and finds himself realizing that the man who was once his murderer is now someone he can't bear to watch suffer. RP format

okay so you saw us joking about writing superbat but then we did so:

This RP is NSFW. If you are under 18, please do not access it. Do not comment telling me you are under 18 and read it.

If so i’m going to have to block you to avoid being called distributing things to minors. I know my blog is generally sfw and it will remain taht way in the future as well--any nsfw things will be posted elsewhere or not at all, but please understand this is one of those things and by clicking the link you’re consenting to look at it. Thanks!

Otherwise, enjoy this thing we threw together with like 0 thought in under 2 days while under pain medication!

Yaaay

[screamting]

[@infernal-fox asks: what happened between Slade and Nightwing [in And Monarchs to Behold]?]

It was a favor to Ra’s al Ghul.

Eventually he’d learn that sentence never ended well for him. He told himself that every time he bowed to a whim of his old mentor. Eventually he’d learn, but it still always felt like something small and easy at the time--a dinner meeting to discuss potential future prospects, but with no binding agreement. An exchange of data over a common nuisance with Talia as a go-between.

A request that Deathstroke the Terminator use his house as a way into a brief assassination.

Oh, it wouldn’t take place at his house, no need to worry-- but if Deathstroke could simply use him as a door into a party, well, that would minimize danger, and he knew how Bruce always loved to keep Gotham feeling nice and safe. He’d even ask that Deathstroke make it look like an accident, so that no alarm over more high-profile murders in Gotham could be raised.

Ra’s knew how Bruce felt about that sort of thing.

(Talia knew how Bruce felt about that sort of thing, he thought, and didn’t put it past her to scold her father into some semblance of civility.)

...but all the same, he’d yet to learn his lesson, and decided a debt was a debt, and he’d never been good at paying debts off.

So Deathstroke would have a safehouse and stepping off point in Wayne Manor for one night.

...Deathstroke would not have a safehouse in the Batcave. That was off limits still, and Bruce would stay up all night on vigil if he had to, but aside from the Batcave, Bruce had… recently acquired more to worry about.

...Dick was twelve, now. Starting to want to venture out on his own. Sometimes he did so without permission. All Bruce could do was try and make sure he kept as safe as he could. Was as trained as he could. Gave him a warning, even though the rule was no one out more than an hour from the manor at night--

But it was daytime, and Dick was awake at the breakfast table on the day of the Terminator’s presence, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and pouring milk into his cereal at the big mahogany table. Some splashed out the side of the bowl.

There were bruises under his nightshirt from the days before. They showed whenever he shifted and his neckline fell or his sleeves rode up.

There wasn’t any butler to make their guest an omelette or benedict, or even to set out the bowl of cereal before Dick awoke alongside orange juice and bacon.

Dick just blinked his bleary eyes at Deathstroke, and passed down the multigrain animal shapes to him, and dug into his breakfast.

….he would still be there, munching away in the room, when he heard Deathstroke speaking to his caretaker.

“I’ve seen what he’s capable of so far; I’m impressed at what you’ve done with him,” the old man said. “How much are you willing to part with him for?”

And then his blood ran cold.

--

Dick Grayson was thirteen, and out for his first night after surviving bruised ribs and a bad sprain. He was allowed to run and stay on the rooftops, but only that. Keep an eye out. A baby stake-out, Robin called it, but at least he was outside and feeling the wind whip around him again.

“Well I was just passing through, but this is a pleasant surprise. Finally let you out of your cage?”

Robin flinched at the voice behind him.

He didn’t move more than that, though. As if there were a knife at his throat.

Maybe a knife at his back. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know why that voice was familiar.

“There’s better teachers,” the voice came again, and something hot and burning tried to come up Robin’s throat. “Ones who wouldn’t let you get that hurt in the first place. And I happen to know a much easier way to heal.”

“No,” Robin mumbled.

Now he felt it. A hand on his shoulder, pulling him backwards, closer, until he thought he could feel Deathstroke behind him, voice near his ear. “He’s really got you good in this, hm?”

The grip tightened.

“I decline your ‘no.’”

...Robin remembered the year before. Talking about cost. Talking about Haly talking about not going to pay the fee, about the price of a life. He thought about hitting the ground, and all his bones popping right back into place, his organs knitting back together, the eye jelly that’d splattered out of his head balling right back up--

There were many horrifying sounds in the Gotham night. Gunshots, or shouts, or sirens.

The worst to hear of all was a dangerous little Robin, calling out to Batman for help.

--

Dick Grayson was fifteen. His name was Nightwing now, and his skin no longer crawled when someone stepped behind him.

...but that hadn’t come fast enough to break Batman of the habit, when his charge would flinch and whip around every time he put a hand on his shoulder, and then wouldn’t stop shaking after stuttering apologies.

But his name was Nightwing now, and the new Robin had never seen Deathstroke or felt his breath on the back of his neck. He’d never seen his predecessor be anything less than ruthless to anyone who dared approach from behind.

Robin no longer had to go out unsupervised sometimes, now that there were two people who could keep up with a younger member. Now that they had a robin that had to be trained from relative scratch.

It was also a Robin who didn’t ask many questions, though, just glad to be involved, and alive, and with a home and family, even if one seemed ready to strangle him half the time--

He’d realize, later, that what he’d seen of Nightwing’s temper was just irritation, and not true killing intent. He’d seen Nightwing kill--he’d seen him kill since the first day they met, when Jason floated down a sewer and found himself fished out by masked men sighing how their traps didn’t work on what seemed so much like dead bodies.

...they were helping him, Batman and Nightwing. They were helping him track down the mob that supplied the drugs that killed his mother. The workers and agents who wouldn’t help his family. The people who preyed on street kids that Jason had known before he was sent stumbling into the rivers on a combination of apathy, sickness, and hunger.

They were helping hunt those people down, making Gotham a better place for kids, and giving the survivors somewhere to go. School, housing, and sanctuary.

...but mob bosses could anger a lot more than simply the children of a city they ruled.

They found that out when their infiltration was interrupted, and they found the man-- Lew Moxon--dead in his chair, a sword still in the process of being pulled out of his neck.

“Oh,” Deathstroke said, “Now this is unexpected.”

Robin thought maybe they could shrug and go, now that their job was done for them, but Nightwing--

Nightwing made a sound like Robin had never heard before, and lunged across the room before Deathstroke could even get another word out.

He was fifteen, and had only barely hit his growth spurt, and stood no chance against him.

Deathstroke laughed, and when Nightwing tried to throw him out a window, just held on and dragged the boy down with him.

It was a week before they found him again, in red armor in a bunker outside Gotham city limits, face bruised and covered with superficial cuts.

--

Rules of the Batcave:

No drugs. No alcohol. Chore list must be upheld. No one allowed outside without warning. No one more than an hour away from each other at any time.

And Nightwing is never to come into contact with the man known as Deathstroke the Terminator.

[beabaseball]

For the past prompt, I was thinking about how sora reacts when he first accessed the anti-form. It seems like something that would terrify someone and that each time he uses it, he feels like he's losing himself.

He’s not losing himself. He is himself–for the first time in a long, long time.

In what feels like forever.

He can feel the cold of the castle draft and the beating of his heart all the way out into the tips of his fingers, and the air goes down cold and whole into his lungs.

He’s never been more alive.

…

He’s groggy when he wakes up. He’s groggy, but he’s on his feet, which is weird. Or, sort of on his feet. He’s crouching in the corner of a stone room and feels like he’s just run a marathon–but still brings his hands up to his eyes, like he’s got to rub away the nonexistent sleep-sand.

Ugh. He aches.

“Donald?” he yawns, realizing he’s out of breath–not panting. He’s just forgotten to breathe. Happens when you’re tired. “Goofy?”

“…Sowa?”

…Donald peeks around from behind a corner, partly hidden by the pillar. He’s clutching his staff, and Sora hops up at the sight and summons his weapon, even though he didn’t hear a fight–

But when he does, Donald flinches back. And so Sora turns around to see what scared him, and– there’s nobody there.

…

When he turns back to Donald, Goofy’s there too. He’s not hiding behind the pillar, and his shield’s on his back. He’s not looking at any enemy behind them.

He’s looking at Sora.

“…Haha. What’s going on you two? Do I have something on my face?” He scratches his cheek and dismisses his keyblade with a wave.

But Goofy doesn’t laugh so… maybe if there is something on his face, it’s really bad?

…and then come the words that Sora only heard in his nightmares anymore. The ones about white walls and white eggs, and girls in white dresses with bright satin sashes.

“Sora, gowrsh… d’you remember anythin’ from just now?”

And Sora doesn’t.

[beabaseball]

I'm glad I found this blog cause thinking about Sora's family is my favorite past time before I die! Consider: Would Sora try to go to school? Try to have something... normal? At least for the sake of his parents, maybe

It’s not usually something I focus on but dang when Sora remembers he has a family that hasn’t raised or seen him in two years+ it’s a fun time

Adding in some of Vivacia-18′s request for protectiveness because:

Of course Sora tries to go back to school. It takes some time to figure out--if people remember him yet, if they ever realized they forgot him, where they think he has or hasn’t been for two years--

(They thought a lot of things for two years)

--and it seems most people just... thought he ran away. Him and Riku. That they’d actually tried to set sail and gone and drowned, or that they ran off into the jungle and got lost, or they stole their family’s savings and bought two tickets to the mainland, chasing the closest thing to another world.

...so there’s... a lot of pressure about going back to school, actually. There’s a lot of questions. The school helps get him and Riku tutor for the last months of summer. Riku officially graduates and gets a belated diploma, but Sora still has to do his last year of middle school.

It doesn’t go well.

The middle school and highschool are connected, so he’s not only the oldest kid in middle school: he’s also eternally cursed with seeing his old classmates, and therefore never actually being able to use seniority on anything. Tidus and Waka and Stephie were always nice in his and Riku’s old classes, and they still hang out sometimes with him, but there’s a distance now and he knows they know it. But overall they’re nice about it. They treat him gently, like he might break, which is silly, but he knows they think he’s been like shipwrecked or gotten lost and overwhelmed in the mainland with Riku to the point where neither of them will talk about it, and boy is that wrong, but--

But the world’s balance must be protected now. And anyway, he can handle his old friends being careful around him, even if they thought he was talking crazy about other worlds, but...

But he doesn’t know what he’d do if some of the other kids heard him talking about Pooh’s woods, or Hollow Bastion, or Donald and Goofy.

Kids who used to pick on him when he was in elementary school at lunch, and then in middle school who Riku helped chase off, they-- Sora isn’t scared of them. They didn’t hurt him really. He’d scuffled on the beach and bitten back and done all of that enough times that it wasn’t really pain back then.

It’s not really pain now, either. Especially not now, not now that he knows what it’s like to be struck by lightning, to be choked into unconsciousness, to lose every sense of his body and only be an emotional, wild soul. He’s really not all that worried about like... avoiding a bloody nose when he could duck to the side and slam his attacker into the ground with just his knees.

But he can’t do that because keyblade’s chosen are supposed to be helpful and nice, and even if he’s not as great as Riku and Kairi he can still be a keyblader, and keybladers don’t attack people when they say--

“Hey,” His hair is short and buzzcut. Brown. He sneers down at Sora from the stair above him. “ ██████████████████ ”...It wasn’t Sora’s nose that got broken. Or his arm pulled out of its socket. Or his concussion from being thrown into a door.But it was Sora who got suspended. His mom pulled him out of school before his suspension was over. They’d call the tutor back. He could take a graduation test next year and finish middle school on his own. It made it easier to go out on missions when King Mickey contacted them again, anyway.

No one gets to talk about Riku like that.