Fairy Tail x Reader Stories (Temporarily Discontinued)

(33) Gildarts x Reader ~ In A Flash {Modern AU}

A/N: This is an adapted version I wrote for my English IV assignment. The original was changed to fit the assignment requirements, while this stayed as is. YES, I know there's a different version in another one of my books, but I decided to make this an SnK story too.
For this AU, please imagine Magnolia as a big city, like Boston.
Word Count: 989

(Y/n) leans back against the wall, nursing a glass of her favorite drink. She had long since graduate college to become a lawyer, but things did not go as planned. A chain of horrible events resulted in the loss of an enjoyable job, which she managed to hold for a a solid 20 years, and the good salary that comes with it. Now, (Y/n) can only sit in her apartment home, sigh solemnly, and watch as the rest of the city works or returns home. The brilliant moonlight illuminates the night sky with a beautiful tint that makes her think. The woman's mind keeps reflecting back; the reminiscence of a memory that will not leave the mind.

Looking up to the bright, flashing lights of advertisements and the pavement just barely peaking out underneath the lumps of snow, a bright flash of color brings a memory to the surface of (Y/n)'s conscience once again.

Feeling chills run up her spine, (Y/n) glances around the room, surprised to see that her surroundings have drastically changed. The dull-hued, darkened apartment she previously sat in has transformed into a setting she vowed to never think about or revisit for over a decade.

"C'mon, (Y/n)!" A young boy's voice calls out her name, the tone of his voice cheerful and full of happiness. His soft, carrot-orange hair bounces around across his face, hiding his crystal blue eyes at times. "You're too slow!"

"No," retaliates a familiar voice. "You're too fast!"

Grief washes over (Y/n)'s mind in an instant. She recognizes the voices all too well. They belong to her twin brother, Gildarts, and herself, a time when they were toddlers. That occurred forty-five years ago. Forty-five years too long since the woman has seen her best friend.

Watching the translucent figures of the past run past her, chasing each other without a care in the world, (Y/n) feels a stinging sensation in her eyes. Her hands, which tremble without her realization, rise to her face, touching the skin above her cheeks. Pulling away from her face, (Y/n) shakily lets out a gasp. The tips of her fingers are wet.

"Hey!" The young (Y/n) interrupts, her voice wavering quite noticeably. (Y/n) quickly whips her head around to observe her former self, though every molecule in her body fights to keep her from witnessing the event.

She regrets it. She regrets everything. Turning around definitely made things worse. (Y/n) tried to block the memories all out long ago, but deep down, she knows what happened.

"This is it," she murmurs to herself, fighting to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes, "this is my punishment. This is what I get for turning around. I never should have done it."

Alone, huddling in fetal position, sobbing loudly in the corner of her room, (Y/n) gazes at her ten-year-old self in dismal. She remembers crying for several hours a day after Nate disappeared, never stopping until she could cry no more. The walls she once joyfully compared to her sibling's cerulean eyes, the room she once shared with him, now haunts her younger, and current, self.

Periodically, (Y/n)'s mother walks into the room, attempting to get little (Y/n) to eat some food.

"Just one bite, (Y/n). That's all I'm asking for," she pleads. The worry lines on her mother's forehead become more prominent as she furrows her eyebrows in dismay. It hurt her mother to see little (Y/n) this way; much more than she led on, (Y/n) realizes. "I'll leave it here for you, just in case you get hungry later."

The soft clatter of the small, blue, porcelain dish meeting against the wooden nightstand stands out like a redwood on an open prairie. Little (Y/n) does nothing to acknowledge her mother as the woman slowly leaves the room, (Y/n)'s heart breaking as she watches her younger self remain as stationary as a statue.

Glancing back at her dejected, small form, (Y/n) wishes for everything to stop. Her mind screams at her to lock all the memories away and throw away the key.

"I don't need to see this. I don't need this again."

The room spins. (Y/n) clutches her head as her vision spirals at a nauseating pace. Flashes of the color she now despises so much forces more unwelcome memories to surface. She hates blue. She hates it with a powerful passion. Her will to push this hatred into the limelight grows stronger and stronger until, suddenly, the spinning stops.

"Hnnggh." (Y/n) moans out in discomfort. Several minutes pass before her eyes adjust to the bright light shining in her face. Blearily blinking, (Y/n) staggers to her feet and hurriedly observes her surroundings in a panic. She is back in her apartment. "Perhaps I was only dreaming," she mutters, finding her customary seat adjacent to the window that looks out into the awake and bustling streets of the Magnolia.

For a split second, she spots something outside her window. Staring adamantly through the glass, (Y/n)'s eyes insist that they had seen a familiar pair of blue eyes and mop of orange hair enter a bar, but her mind reasons with her, throwing out a logical reason to overrule her claim.

"It's just my imagination," (Y/n) breathes out shakily, diverting her gaze back to the snow-coated pavement. "Nothing more, nothing less."