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@theyoungxst
Priv. / Highly Sel. Young Xehanort from the Kingdom Hearts Saga. LOW ACTIVITY. This is a sideblog to @multif0rmed . Written by Stunton (she / they, 21+). Blog est. 11/6/24. Guidelines. Verses.
Blogroll: Master Xehanort , Vanitas, & Possessed!Sora.
He had not expected the differences. The sudden surge of magic, the awareness from a Heart ever so attuned to the worlds that something was wrong, that something wasn't as it should be.
And he had not expected to find himself drawn here, through this modern world, through entire clouds of people he could navigate with ease, yes, but that did not change how, at least, there was one familiar heart there.
He was used to such familarity. He was used to his future selves, to the way they were the same and yet not so, and he could have distinguished them with closed eyes. This one, however, was a new one, to him, and of course he felt compelled to see it.
And of course he approached, heavy coat on his arm, exposing the black, comfortable clothing beneath. A shadow of a man with silver hair, until he noticed... oh. Now that was interesting.
He regarded the other for a long, quiet moment, a street crossing away, and even through the crowd he knew where he was.
And then, of course, he warped nearby. Not close enough to startle him, but close enough to make himself clear.
"Hello, Xehanort." He grinned.
Now what was going on, he could only wonder, but this was so very interesting.
His step froze.
That voice .. the vibrations were all but the same. Was he hearing things finally, being in a strange timeline finally having gotten to him? The silver-haired teenager blew out a sigh, centering himself, before turning and drinking in the other's appearance. "My... self,'' he said a bit lamely, shaking his head. So used to saying others. If he was reading the other right, it appeared the other Xehanort appeared a couple years older than him.
Still. It shouldn't be possible. "Why?" Was his immediate question, his mind pulled away from any such mission. He still nevertheless gripped his phone tightly, now putting it away.
Patience.
It was hard to remember that he needed to have that at times. To see this plan come to fruition, it felt like he had been far too patient. Going through the first failed attempt and realizing what needed to be readjusted, giving the time and space needed to allow for the darkness (and the light) to cultivate in the right people to form the right Hearts, pulling at the strings just so to result in every piece on the chessboard showing up when he needed them to-
Without patience, there would have never been any chance of being able to see his vision for the future reach fruition. And it needed to become reality. This world was filled with too much hate and despair. A new one was needed, where only Light could exist and Darkness would be banished.
But his patience was not placed equally. When it came to himself, Xehanort found his temper grew short and his tongue sharp. As himself, they were the ones who should have known better-
But that was wrong.
It felt like it was in practically another lifetime, but Xehanort could still recall faint memories of being at the age that the young man in front of him was now. Things that had barely mattered had felt so important, and moments that meant nothing had seemed to practically loomed in front of him like impassable boulders. Without time and perspective, it was easy to get lost in the moment.
He made a gesture for the other to pour him a cup of tea. "No sugar. Plain will be fine." And a pause.
"... If you do care, then remember that once he is our thirteenth and he is ours, you can do as you please. But if you push your feelings onto him too quickly, you are not just risking ruining him as a vessel. You make it easier for him to be found. Do you think the other Lights would allow this to happen? Do you think Sora will remain a vessel if... Riku were to ask him to return?"
Xehanort paused as if a thought just occurred to him before offering his younger self something close to an innocent look. "Messy silver hair. I wonder if maybe it's just that Sora simply has a... type?"
Did he really become this much of a bastard when it came to the future..? Ah, but that'd be considered treason if I so voiced it... What heaviness that lingered on the teenager's shoulders. And why, oh why, did he find attachment? Find too much meaning within the smaller things in life? Had he simply wished to re-find a connection worthy as before ..? His Heart clenched at such a thought.
He wished there was way to convince the other - to see a way around to find another Thirteenth. But as much as he would want that, it'd sting the younger Xehanort too. He'd fail in acquiring the last vessel - the last essential piece.
But he knew Sora was so much ... more ....
He let out a breath, trying to keep his emotions in check, so the other wouldn't be able to read them so easily. At least, he could try.
He nodded, trying to focus on the other's words. And started to pour the tea, but his hand slipped. Some spilled onto the table, pouring messily over the edge. He flinched. He had messed up, and how he hated to do that right in front of his oldest self. "Riku will have no power over Sora. I've made sure Sora's all but in our hands." It twisted his gut in an instant to say that.
"Shu -'' He almost said, but settled for a glare. He couldn't finish that...
''Sora would rather try to fix me, to see what is wrong with me. It's how empathy works, doesn't it?" A jab directly at himself - but moreso towards the other, if anything.
This is pointless...
Yellow scoured the streets down below. It had been one of those semi-missions again. Half-assed, half-done. Really, it only served as punishment to be away from Sora - nothing to truly do with the Organization. Whatever state the group had been in at this particular point. Even so, that didn't mean the younger Xehanort would throw a rebuttal towards his older self.
He's still my Master by end of the day.
And besides. The elder didn't have to be lenient --Eraqus had no doubt smoothed over some edges by now. A roll of the eyes, still bothered that they had got each other now, again, despite him having his own relationship. He leaned up, digging out his phone to check it one more time. Nothing new. His Heart ached the slightest bit without the other keyblade wielder, but he couldn't afford to be distracted.
That tug of magick... it should be down about .. there.
The eighteen-year-old quickly moved, unaware of a certain presence soon to pop up.
@timetravelcr
There was nothing forcing the youngest of the group to stay here. It could be stated that this was part of his destiny, but the door to the apartment was not locked shut and Xehanort did not have a literal leash to keep him bound to his side. Anything that kept him here was self-imposed, either out of a true belief that this was still part of his destiny, or simply having no other strong desires himself... or maybe it was just out of fear.
Fear of himself? Perhaps. Xehanort was well aware of the way the rest regarded him. He was an idiot, a fool, a doddering and blabbering old man. But he was also the viper, a threat, something and someone to be feared. His body was what oft gave those who faced him the false belief that his only strength came from his ability to manipulate others. While his strategic planning helped, the truth laid in the terrifying raw power he possessed even at his age.
The tea was slowly being brewed as Xehanort stayed seated, finding there to be no reason to turn and watch the other. He was quiet during the process, allowing for a heavy silence to stretch to fill the room. More time for him to sit and think. More time for the younger to feel worry and apprehension.
"-- I was young once." He had to be. The other was proof of that. "I remember the emotions." He did not. "But that does not matter." That was true. "For Sora to become the thirteenth, all remnants of himself will be taken from his body so that he can serve as a vessel for our power."
The stare that was leveled at the other was unwavering, though also empty.
"Finding yourself feeling affection for him will ruin this. His heart must be empty to be filled with my hatred. If this cannot happen then he will be worthless, and we will need to dispose of him."
The younger Xehanort found himself flinching at the words starting to spill out of the elder. Light, why did it have to be this way? He glanced outside, as the other went on - wanting to so badly run out of there, embrace some sort of freedom. And yet -- he lifted his gloved hand, letting it rest onto his chest. He could feel the subtle tugs of their connection -- through their Hearts. A shuddering sigh left him, as he turned away from the window, forcing himself to gaze into the dark-steeped eyes.
Something didn't sit well with him due to the tonal vibrations spilling out of the other, but the other's energy, it felt.. genuine? Hell, could he even say that about his older self? Everything felt stable. But I know how much of a manipulator he is. "But why can't it ...!" he started so impulsively, and bit at his tongue. A tiny groan rolled out of him. Raising his voice towards the other wouldn't do anyone any favors. What a mess.
He finished preparing the tea, now setting the kettle onto the tray along with some sweet treats.
".. Right. We have to press forward, no matter what." They felt.. hollow, yet he was thankful to even have his older self to force him back onto the straight and narrow. His hand shook slightly, and he had to relax it for a few moments to even start pouring tea for the elder. "He is ... to be our Thirteenth." ..Oh, how he hated that his sketchbook had little Sora doodles in them.
"But ..'' he shook his head. He continued to pour, and very nearly over-poured. Weak, he chatised himself, before starting to pour for himself. And he slid into his chair, opposite to the other.
''I know the plan. Weaken his defenses."
Rules / Guidelines.
Shipping is allowed, but keep in mind I headcanon Young Xehanort at the age of eighteen. Chemistry is most welcomed. Because of his age, I probably wouldn't like smut. If the situation comes up ever, I'd do fade to black.
Mun is 25+, so I'd prefer fellow writers to be at least 18+. Even better if 21+.
No drama - I'm too old to deal with it, and have had experienced it on twitter through my Master Xehanort account plenty of times through my feed. Let's be adults about writing, please. It's fine if you have an issue with someone, just handle it privately.
Due to the nature of the character, dark themes will be present on this blog. Take care of yourself if you are uncomfortable with my character's actions .. though he won't be as bad as his older self?
updated as neccessary.
I don't know what it is about Xemnas but like....he's so freakin pretty. Way prettier than any of the other 'norts to me. I can't really say why though....
It was hard not to scoff at the offer, but the tension and anxiety was near-palpable in the way it was radiating off the shoulders of his younger self. Was he truly that terrifying? Or was there was a reason he would find himself so uneasy in the presence of himself.
Who else could possibly know, possible guess, at the thoughts in his mind as well as Xehanort.
What was strange was that he found he couldn't entirely remember his time being younger. It had happened, and it wasn't strictly nothing, but it was all hazy and hard to reach. Whatever was there was not something he needed to worry about anymore; that much was very clear to him. Perhaps he should have been alarmed by that, but instead he simply accepted it. The only thing he had to concern himself with now was ensuring that they won.
"Tea." Xehanort repeated that before finally slowly nodding. "Certainly. Tea would be nice." Could he even taste anymore? Another thought, another thing to mull over, something else that had managed to find a way to slip through the cracks. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
Xehanort nodded before started to head into the small kitchen area. There was a table there, one that looked barely used, that he took a seat at. "And we can discuss your strange and obvious infatuation with Sora while we drink."
.. Some parts of his older self had indeed been nerve-wracking. Why? How? How did it all happen - he'd ask, but what if it seemed too out of line? The elder was still his boss. Sometimes whenever he'd stare into the fellow gold, he'd shiver afterwards and look away. Coldness was especially useful during those moments.
A sigh of relief left the boy, as he got to work. Clinks could be heard as he got out the teaset, setting it gently onto one of the kitchen counters, next to the fridge. Next, he dug into the cabinet, deciding to at least pull his favorite flavor - Maple Vanilla. Something potentially soothing for himself as they went on with conversation.
Why, oh why, did that stupid Guardian of Light ever worm into his heart? He felt utter judgement come out of the elder's tone with that statement. He .. He had to keep his cool.
He often did near the other.
"Hmmhhhh, lovely,'' he muttered, not sounding at all pleased. It was bad enough the fellow teenager started to leak into his artwork as of lately. ..Which he wished he could dash off and do that instead. But no - this conversation was paramount.
Soon, the smell of tea started to fill the room.
Eraqus blinked once he saw the other, and he couldn't believe it. "Xehanort..?" He asked before speaking once more. Although he was in slight disbelief, the proof was right in front of him.
He pretty much refused to look at the other at that time. No judgment. He was not one to judge. He himself had changed as well. Despite the fact that he had words to say. He held his tongue.
"It is I ..." he trailed off, gesturing off to the side, before allowing his arm to return to his tea. Placing his cup back down, he hummed and snickered.
"You're silent. Let your judgement be known -- I've heard only recently you have learned to curb your absolutes.''
An older and younger all mixed into one single body.
Yellow stared, lowering the tea cup back onto its saucer. He couldn't believe it ; was that ...?
"... you may remember me looking a bit different than I do now, Eraqus," he decided to go with, finally pushing himself to speak. He knew the judgement would eventually come ...
@faerieix
“ ”
There were many people that could be fooled by Young Master Xehanort. He was a terribly gifted orator and could spin the most wonderfully beautiful lies without batting an eye. The worst was the fact that, more often than not, he wasn't even spinning lies. The truth, but only just a small reflection of it.
The lies, these half truths, couldn't stay hidden from himself though. After all, he had to be the one to know what was true or not. And if he couldn't keep the lies from himself, then how could he ever expect to be able to keep the truth from himself?
The young Master was not the same as Xehanort himself. A reflection of him pulled from a very specific moment in time. He would stay here until his task was done, and then the Young Master would return back to his own time. All memories of his time in the future would be stripped away from him, and in turn that meant that Xehanort himself had no memory of these events.
He couldn't help but wonder if perhaps that meant this had never happened before. The time cycle had to have a start somewhere. Or maybe this was just an endless circle, and he was always destined to stare in cold disapproval of his younger self as he watched him slowly failing.
Worse than failing. Falling himself.
"... and how is our newest Darkness today?" Xehanort spoke from behind the younger, mouth curved into a smile while his eyes just slowly narrowed.
These lies .. they spun away from the boy, as if on their very own. Unable to stop. But the younger knew it'd eventually bite him in the ass - just when? It had been merely something .. peaceful .. that resided within Sora. Something he hadn't experienced since before Bal - .. He wouldn't dare think of the name. Not now.
He couldn't .. it still felt too painful, yet he knew he'd have to deal with the feelings eventually. Learn to integrate, work with them.
But Sora .. the spikey-haired boy was reminding him of simpler times, simpler times where he had all of his friends .. All the laughter, all the conversation. Something healing - even if the darkness had still lingered within the background of dealing with their dead Guardian.
He swallowed - Why did his older self have to constantly do that?
"Just fine .." he had made sure to start off slowly, before taking his boots off near the entrance, before starting to head towards the kitchen. He paused however - knowing he couldn't just walk away. "Sora's doing quite well,'' he answered with a steadier voice, forcing it to remain cold.
"If you would allow me .." he momentarily trailed off. Afterall, the elder was still his superior in a matter of speaking.
''.. I could make us some tea. We could discuss it over some tea."
"Unharmed for the most part. Although, bruised ribs aren't new. Occupational hazard."
So Xehanort didn't plan on using her as a vessel. Good to know. She had purposely smashed her phone and it was left behind. She had maps of ley lines, some massive ones at that, she couldn't risk falling into the wrong hands.
And then came his final comment. Celeste could still hear it. The comment Yin Sid once made when he thought she wasn't listening: "Celeste is her father's daughter." Never did she think she would get the chance to use them herself.
"Of course. I'm my father's daughter after all."
"They are- quite. They will heal in time. You just need to be gentle."
Of course- that'd allow plenty of time for her to feel more motivated to stay. Locking her, or Sora, would be last resort - with dark chains. "I assure you. This will be fine - you and Sora can even stay out of the final battle, not unless you would feel compelled to be on our side." He highly doubted it.
"Yes you are .. you've learned well.'' He tossed his head momentarily towards the door. He wondered when the boy would be secured .. Though .. "Mmmm, it appears you may be reuniting with your brother soon."
And your late wife.
She didn't say that part out loud. What would Melody say if she could see what her husband had become? Her children? Dwelling on things would just cause her mind to wander. Instead, Celeste took stock of all the floss provided. All beautiful and her favorite brand that didn't tangle as often in her option.
"Which means you know Master Oswald will stop at nothing to find me. And if you do target Sora, you have plans in place for Riku and the others."
His pencil briefly paused from making more shapes, and his vision flickered up, head tilting.
''We - I - do realize that. However, they can try all that they can. Granted, it may be best for you to get in contact with them somehow, in order to show you are unharmed - and will be." He hummed in thought. "But, obviously, we cannot do it on a phone that'd you have access to."
He smirked. ''I can appreciate the fishing you trying to do."
She traced the pattern gently with a pinky finger. It was so simple, nothing like she did now. Still...better than nothing and it's been a while since she did something simple. It could be pretty with soft pinks, blues, and purples.
"True. Momma...I remember her sitting in her chair when she didn't have her hands full with me..." Meaning when Celeste was with Xehanort. She had been a daddy's girl for so long, always happily running out the door to greet him first or sitting by his side before bed in the evenings.
"So you followed me to Momma's grave...Weird how you knew I was going when those plans were made in private!"
Even if kind of .. vague-ish, he still had plenty of access to such memories. Simpler times, it seemed. Then again, it was before all the ambitions had started. Though, he had to think specifically usually in order to pull up past memories. How bizarre was the Heart?
"It's something very special."
He paused briefly starting to work on his latest piece. Perhaps, an Eraqus one.
"Hmmhhh, partly-yes, partly no. We have our ways in keeping track of the Guardians of Light, as well as you. It's rather simple. But .. it had been a legitimate visit as well. Afterall, she is your mother."
She was defiantly starting to get angry. She always hated to be led in circles, even as a child. Of course, he was right. There was no stopping the second Keyblade War. And she was powerless to prevent Sora from challenging Their father now. Hell, she didn't even know where she was and couldn't get in contact with anyone.
Celeste watched him leave the room for a minute before returning. She stared at the items he returned with. A prepared embroidery hoop and a clear plastic box of everything else she needed. Floss, floss cards, needles...everything down to a thimble. Carefully, Celeste sat up, only wincing slightly at the pain in her bruised ribs. She took the items and studied the pattern. A simple floral pattern.
"Thank you. This will help, but how did you know I still embroider?"
Destiny .. it was meant to happen. He had no place in saying otherwise - his older self had been his Master, his Leader, afterall. Even a.. friend? They had rare times of spending time with each other outside of work related things - it was important.
He chuckled a little before sitting back down in his chair, and the sketchbook had been moved to be tended to once again.
"Mmm.. once always with art, you don't truly leave. Do you?'' There was pause before he added on, ''..Of course, we've kept tabs on you as soon as I had come back as re-completed - my older self."
She watched him, remembering how her father was always working on maps when she was tending to her reading assignments as a child or in the evenings when she would sit in a nearby armchair, embroidery hoop in her tiny hands as she tried to follow the pattern as neatly as she could. That would be nice actually. To have her supplies as a distraction for her current situation.
"Of course not. It's either Sora or Master Oswald. Maybe both. Maybe all the guardians. After all, if they can't protect one of their potential members, how can they expect to protect all the Worlds?"
It hurt to see in a sense, though he brushed the feeling quite clearly away. No, he was here to do a purpose - and he should feel completely at ease with his now yellow. ..Good thing for art, so he could try to integrate such feelings. Keyword, attempt.
''Mmmm ... quite. But you and I know perfectly well what is to come,'' he commented, before looking elsewhere. Some sort of itch in his mind ..
Without a word, the boy set down his sketchbook to leave the room momentarily, only to come back a few moments later. Supplies were held within his hands. Two birds, one stone -- it would calm her and give her a reason to find a reason to stay. He held them out towards her, so she could have something to do.
''.. think nothing of it -- but you do look rather bored."
