#sorry this is really heavy i just feel so much fear for my fellow citizens | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andrewmoocow · 3 years

Text

Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 18: Growing Pains (originally published on July 12, 2021)

AN: Welcome back everyone. Now, this is going to be a pretty heavy chapter for me to write. Well, mostly the A-plot, the B-plot will be courtroom nonsense ala Phoenix Wright and Harvey Birdman. But I'm getting off track, as someone who have faced some very tough times before in my life, I hope I can be as respectful to both the original episode and everyone who watched it as possible. Now then, let's get rocking and rolling.

Synopsis: Steven goes to his first doctor's appointment and realizes how deep his problems run.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Estelle as Garnet

Michaela Dietz as Amethyst

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl, Volleyball, Yellow Pearl

Grace Rolek as Connie

Mary Elizabeth McGlynn as Priyanka

Tom Scharpling as Greg

Christine Pedi as Holly Blue Agate

Charlyne Yi as Navy

Hayley Kiyoko as Morganite

Jennifer Paz as Lapis, Zuli

Shelby Rabara as Peridot, Squaridot

Uzo Aduba as Bismuth

Amy Sedaris as Yellow Zircon, Blue Zircon

Patti LuPone as Yellow Diamond

Featuring Casey Lee Williams as Cat's Eye

The day after his failed date with Connie, Steven stayed in his bedroom for most of the morning where he was surrounded by ice cream and watching the preview for a new Dogcopter movie, which showed the titular canine standing on top of a black car chasing a blue car and a mail van while a pug gave him orders.

"I know you're eager to catch the mail truck Dogcopter, but it's really a decoy!" the other dog at the wheel named Drew ordered Dogcopter. "Chase the blue car instead! Good boys chase the blue car, and you're a good boy Dogcopter!"

With a fearless expression, Dogcopter leaped off the black car and used the propeller on his back to fly towards the black car, followed by using a pair of extendable hands to open up the trunk, revealing a bomb and a ring box inside.

"Nice work DC, now get the bomb outta the trunk and off the bridge!" Drew congratulated Dogcopter. "We're almost out of time!"

However, it was too late for Dogcopter. The bomb went off as he tossed it off the bridge, and the resulting explosion blew him away. As Dogcopter collapsed on the bridge, the ring box fell from his mechanical hands and onto the asphalt.

"Dogcopter, no!" Drew cried as he burst from the car to keep his friend alive. "I can't lose you Dogcopter!" Luckily, Dogcopter was unharmed and he woke up to pop open the ring box, which contained a ring shaped like a dog bone that he presented to Drew. "Is that?"

"DOGCOPTER 6: TILL DEATH DO WE BARK: I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU MAN AND WOOF!" the announcer read the film's title as it appeared on the screen, making Steven groan in agony at the irony of the trailer he was watching.

"Everyone's getting married except me!" Steven yelled as he sank into his bed and started turning pink. "Even Dogcopter succeeded in popping the question! I feel like poop." Steven then picked up his phone and tried calling one of the Crystal Gems, but he unfortunately got no answer. "Wish the Gems weren't doing a field trip to Homeworld today. I wonder if they got any reception?"

Meanwhile, on the Gem Homeworld, it was a rather tense time. Following the exposure of Black Rutile's revolution and attempted massacre of the Crystal Gems, the citizens were in fear of who among them could still be a supporter of her. And three followers, in particular, were about to be put on trial.

Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Peridot, Lapis, and Bismuth led their classes into the Diamonds' throne room, which was already set up like a courtroom with stands for the judge, jury, witnesses, attorneys, and the accused. Those accused were Holly Blue Agate, Morganite, and Navy, who sat down at the plaintiff's bench with varying expressions of irritation, resignation, and sadness.

"Now class, we want you all to be on your best behavior," Garnet advised the Gem students. "This is a serious time for our kind, and we want absolute silence for most of this trial. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Garnet." The Gems obliged before they retreated to the jury box while their teachers took their seats at the prosecutor's stand. That was when Garnet took notice of Pearl sticking her nose in the book by George Ikari that she had gotten at yesterday's signing.

"I see you're keeping yourself busy Pearl." Garnet remarked, forcing Pearl to look up from her book.

"Thanks for noticing Garnet." Pearl replied to the fusion. "I've just been a little enraptured by this little tome lately. George uses such flowery terms for such simple concepts, and the concepts in question could be very useful to Steven too."

"All y'all, shush!" Amethyst ordered her two seniors. "Here comes the judge!"

"All rise for the honorable Yellow Diamond!" Yellow Pearl announced, serving as the bailiff for this trial, before her former Diamond emerged from the curtained entrance and made her way to her throne.

"Good day to you Gems." Yellow Diamond greeted the other Gems in the makeshift courtroom with utmost seriousness. "In case you are wondering, Blue and White Diamond are out searching for more of Black Rutile's supporters, so I shall serve as sole judge for these proceedings." She informed. "Now without further ado, read the charges."

"Holly Blue Agate-12B, Morganite-8HK, and Ruby-EJ9, you stand here accused of your support of the intelligence officer turned terrorist Black Rutile." Yellow Pearl announced as she read off a hologram. "How do you all plead?"

"Not guilty!" Holly Blue declared, speaking on behalf of all three of them. "Black Rutile is no terrorist, she had big dreams for our kind! She simply wanted to restore us to our old ways because she believed Steven had made us weak, no doubt weak enough to be so easily conquered!"

"Liar. Kinda not surprised you would do this." Amethyst snarked in-between fake coughing, inciting a glare from the Agate before she continued her plea.

"If you can find it within yourself, your most grand clarity, to scrub this silly trial altogether and let us go, it would be most grand." Holly Blue continued.

"Request denied." Yellow declared coldly. "If you really insist on begging on your knees this whole time, then I guess your defense attorney might not be needed."

"Wait, attorney?" Amethyst wondered out loud just as a new Gem stepped into the room.

"Sorry for being so fashionably late, Yellow!" a tall, confident Gem apologized as she strode into the throne room. In addition to the honey yellow pantsuit with large diamond-shaped buttons she wore to match the gemstone above her upper lip that resembled a mole, a straight bob-cut, and a cat's tail emerging from her rear, this new Gem also wore a large sunhat, a neon fur coat, sunglasses, high heels, mustard yellow opera gloves, and a cigarette holder in her left hand. "Had to quell a few uprisings a few districts over. Hope you're not too mad."

"Oh goody." Bismuth shared the sentiments of her fellow Crystal Gems as they grimaced at the cat-like defense attorney, all except for Amethyst.

"Who's the new pussycat here?" Amethyst asked about the attorney.

"That's Cat's Eye, one of the most affluent uppercrusts on Homeworld." Bismuth informed the smaller Gem.

"And one of the most irritating." Lapis groaned as she buried her face in her hands.

"She's almost like an Earth cat in a way." Peridot added. "Incredibly smug, loves making others mad solely for her amusement, and that grin on her face just rubs me the wrong way."

"So Cat, how have you been lately?" Pearl asked the opposing attorney with a strained smile.

"Miserable, my darling Pearl. Perfectly wretched." Cat's Eye answered as she made her coat, hat and sunglasses disappear with a snap of her fingers, revealing a pair of cat ears atop her hair. "Now then, let us get down to business." With that, Cat's Eye took her place alongside the prosecuted trio and kicked her legs up on the table.

"Oh Cat's Eye, thank you so much for coming out today!" Holly Blue exclaimed gratefully. "These horrible traitors have framed us for a crime we clearly didn't commit, and now we could lose every-"

"Could you move approximately 30 centimeters away from me?" Cat's Eye raised a paw-like hand to Holly's face while filing her sharp nails. "You're invading my personal space." The Agate meekly complied and returned to her seat, causing Amethyst to laugh raucously.

"That cat may be trouble, but seeing Holly put in her place will always crack me up!" Amethyst cackled, but her chuckling was cut short when Cat's Eye turned her cigarette holder into a riding crop to whip Amethyst in the hands with. "MEOWCH! Bad kitty, what the H?!"

"Order in the court." Cat's Eye declared crossly as she returned her weapon to her gem and took a stand. "Now, without further ado, I'd like to make my case for these three Gems and call a witness."

"Go right ahead Cat's Eye." Yellow rolled her eyes before the cymophane made her plea.

"Your honor, Gems of the court, these three stand here wrongly accused by these band of ingrates for allying themselves with a known terrorist who once filled a high seat in White Diamond's court." Cat's Eye stated. "But, maybe they could've been spared this fate if the Crystal Gems had simply shown them a little kindness."

"OBJECTION!" Pearl yelled and pointed an accusing finger at Cat. "We tried to show Navy here kindness, but it was all a ploy to steal back her squadron's ship!"

"That is true." Navy agreed. "But I simply played nice because you left us all to drift forever in space, even after Steven said you'd get us all back!"

"I'll admit, she raises a good point." Garnet found herself agreeing with the Ruby. "We were in a rush to get back to Earth, so rescuing the Rubies just flew over our heads."

"I rest my case." Cat's Eye declared with a prideful smirk. "Now, if we have nothing else to discuss, I'd like to call Yellow Zircon to the stand."

The Gems in the gallery began muttering among themselves as Yellow Zircon sadly got up from her seat and marched to the witness's stand, while her blue counterpart gave her a cheeky grin. "Whatever you do," Yellow Zircon said to Blue Zircon. "don't make a fool out of me."

"Oh, I won't." Blue Zircon said innocently as Yellow Zircon made her way to the stands, where Cat's Eye sat down in front of her with a seductive gaze.

"Now my dearest Zircon, do try to not make a fool of yourself for me." Cat cooed, cupping the Zircon's face in her hand and squeezing her cheeks, making her usually arrogant witness blush.

"I-I won't." Yellow Zircon sheepishly obliged and sat down in the witness's box. "But how did you become an attorney? You don't know the first thing about law and order!"

"Well, I'm here because I'm smarter than you think I am!" Cat's Eye yelled at Yellow Zircon's face, a far cry from the smug seductress she presented herself as. "Not because I'm so gorgeous! Though I really am."

"This is going to take a while." Pearl groaned before picking up her book again. "I wonder how Steven is doing."

Back on Earth, Steven continued to scroll through all the numbers he had on his phone. Pretty much most of the people in his contacts had either already began to drift away from him, would probably be too busy to call, or simply didn't have time for him. All except for one.

"Hi, Steven!" Greg greeted his son on the other end after Steven decided to give him a call.

"Hi Dad, how's it going?" Steven asked his father.

"The tour's been going great!" Greg replied happily. "Which reminds me, how have you been doing? You been throwing any dope ragers while you got the house to yourself?"

"Yeah, you know me. Steven the party animal." Steven responded sarcastically. "I'm glad you're finally coming home tonight Dad. I wanna talk to you about something that's happened between me and Connie?"

"Oh, this isn't that whole situation after you came back from Homeworld the first time again, right?" Greg asked sympathetically. "By the way, Sadie and Shep wanna say hi while they're working on a new routine that they're excited to show off. And guess what? The tour got extended!"

"Wow, that's-that's great." Steven tried to sound happy for the musicians and their manager, but at the same time, he was sad that he'd have to wait a little while longer for his dad to come home.

"Yeah." Even if they were far apart, Greg could sense the disappointment in his half-alien son's voice before trying to turn things around. "I get that you want to see me again soon, but this manager job is working great for me! Takes me back to when I was touring as a lad. Anyways, we're gonna go through a tunnel. You wanna call me back about your Connie sitch?"

"I-it's not really important." Steven fibbed.

"You sure?" Greg asked Steven. "You know, I can make a quick stop when we pass through Delmarva."

"No, I'm totally fine. Have fun!" Steven reiterated before hanging up and letting out a deep sigh. "Maybe I should get some more ice cream."

Steven then walked down to the kitchen to fetch some more of that dairy goodness from the freezer, but when he opened the freezer door, he discovered Connie's glow bracelet left in there after last night. Taken by surprise, the depressed half-Gem once again turned pink, but this time was different.

This time, parts of Steven's body began swelling up like a balloon and tearing through his pajamas as he accidentally tore the freezer door off its hinges before slowly turning back to normal. As Steven was left aghast at this new development, he decided to take a breather on the couch. However, his body began swelling up for the second time in a row as Connie began calling him on his phone.

"I shouldn't worry her." Steven tried to hang up on Connie upon realizing her promise yesterday to call him at noon. "You know what, I'll let her go to voicemail!" Steven's body had other plans as his right arm began to inflate and took the call for him, allowing Connie to be seen on his screen while the arm returned to normal.

"Steven, are you there?" Connie asked through video call.

"Hey Connie, what's up?" Steven casually asked, trying to hide the strange new changes his body was going through.

"I've been worried about you Steven." Connie answered when she noticed how pink her best friend was. "Um, are you glowing?" she asked before Steven's face began to puff up. "Good grief, what's wrong with your face?!"

"Wait, my face?" Steven mumbled through his inflated head. "What's wrong with my face?"

"Uh…." Connie replied.

"Oh right, the swelling." Steven realized what his would've been-wife was talking about. "Parts of my body have been randomly growing for some reason. But I'm sure it doesn't hurt, I'm perfectly fine!"

"How long has this been happening?" Connie inquired.

"Since this morning." Steven meekly replied, causing his face to blow up some more.

"What do the Gems think?" Connie began pressing further.

"Can't reach them right now." Steven answered as his face returned to normal while the rest of his body kept growing. "Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl were asked to serve as prosecutors for a trial on Homeworld, so they decided to make it into a Little Homeschool field trip." As Steven finished, his form returned to its normal size. "It's really nothing to worry about."

"You don't look well." Connie nervously observed. "I think you should see a doctor. I can ask my mom if she'd like to give you a checkup."

"I wouldn't want to bother her." Steven declared. "Besides, I already got a pretty okay idea of what doctors do when I went to see Lars in the hospital after his crash landing."

"Steven, you need to see a medical professional," Connie demanded. "Doesn't matter if my mom can see you or not, you need help."

"Okay, you're right." Steven accepted the opportunity while his face began to deform yet again. "Call me when she's ready."

Thankfully for Steven, Connie's mother had an opening and soon enough, Steven was sitting in her office with Connie by his side.

"You're lucky I had a cancellation today," Priyanka stated as she prepared for work. "Usually, I'm booked weeks in advance."

"Think you'll be able to help Steven out?" Connie asked her mother. "Even if this is some sort of Gem issue?"

"Gem issue or otherwise, he still has a human body, which means we can run tests." Priyanka remarked. "At the very least, we can see if you're suffering from a non-Gem condition, Steven."

"See? Everything will be fine." Connie assured Steven. "I'm sure everything will be fine." As Connie left the examination room, she began dialing on her phone and put it to her ear.

"Okay, give me all you got." Steven said reluctantly to the doctor.

"Alright, let's check for symptoms first." Priyanka said before putting a thermometer in Steven's ear to check his temperature. "Mild fever." She observed before walking away to pick up a stethoscope, returning to find that Steven is starting to once again glow pink. "Glowing pink color to the skin." Priyanka continued as she put the stethoscope to Steven's heart and then his gem. Next, she reached for a blood pressure device to check Steven's blood pressure, but it caused his arm to swell up and break the machine, causing his doctor to fall over in alarm.

However, Priyanka was quick to regain her composure as she looked over the notes she had taken. "Blood pressure is high!" she realized as she got up. "Well, these readings are quite interesting. Tell me, Steven, if you don't mind, who's your GP?"

"GP?" Steven wondered.

"Your general practitioner?" Priyanka explained to her patient. "As in, your regular doctor?"

"I guess you?" Steven answered confusedly. "I never have been to a doctor's appointment before, mostly because I have the Gems, my dad, or my healing spit to rely on whenever I get hurt."

"You're almost seventeen and you have never seen a doctor?!" a shocked Priyanka yelled, causing Steven to once again turn pink and inflate before she tried to calm him down. "I-it's okay, it's okay! I'll talk with your father later, but now we'll just need to run some more tests."

Steven looked nervously at Connie's mom as she walked over to a cupboard, opening it to fetch some hospital gowns. "Get undressed, then we'll help you into a gown." Priyanka ordered.

"Is that one of those blue things that don't cover your butt?" Steven asked embarrassedly before he was thrown a hospital gown.

"Yes, now let's get started." Priyanka declared before snapping on a rubber glove.

"Thank you for your testimony little Peridot." Cat's Eye thanked Squaridot, while licking the back of her hand, as the square-headed Peridot finished her testimony. "Tell us your designation so we may enter it into the records."

"Peridot, Facet-4E3M Cut-7ZY." Squaridot stated as she left the witness's stand and rejoined her classmates. "But everyone calls me Squaridot."

"Squaridot?" Cat's Eye repeated with utter disgust. "Who comes up with these abhorrent names?! I mean, Laz, Zuli, and now Squaridot?!"

"Would you care to get to the point?" Bismuth snarked to the catlike defendant.

"Gladly." Cat's Eye answered before clearing her throat. "Gems of this courtroom, the testimonies we have heard so far have given me enough to make my deduction." She announced to the courtroom. "These Crystal Gems are only kind to other Gems who treat them kindly in exchange. And that DOES, NOT, MAKE, SENSE!" She emphasized her declaration by slamming her fist into her open palm with each word. "If they say that they practice restorative justice, then why didn't they use that kind of justice on my clients here?"

"OBJECTION!" Amethyst yelled. "Girl, did you even see the Human Zoo back in the day?! Holly Blue was treating my quartz peeps like garbage!"

"That is because they were beneath her in the caste system!" Cat's Eye argued with Amethyst. "I swear you droll quartz, did you emerge yesterday or something?!"

"Actually, she was," Pearl answered for the purple Gem. "And you're just making stuff up in the hopes of sounding smart!"

"Do I have 'stupid' written on my gem, you no-good servant?!" Cat's Eye shouted at the white Gem, making sure to whip Pearl's hands for added emphasis. "Let's review what we have learned so far. Those two Lapis Lazulis retaliated violently when ordered to not terraform and their friend came close to poofing them both, yet 2F8D immediately forgot all that when coming to your silly little school!" she analyzed. "That does NOT, MAKE, SENSE!"

"Laz and I argued about going to Little Homeschool!" Zuli objected to Cat's Eye's observation. "An argument you obviously weren't there for-" Before Zuli could finish, she got a whip in the hands by Cat's Eye's riding crop.

"No backtalk!" Cat's Eye exclaimed as she returned to her statement. "Back on subject, then came Miss Squaridot here," she once again cringed at the name while gesturing to Squaridot. "who was given a second chance, yet was poofed without a second thought! That does NOT, MAKE, SENSE!"

"I tried to give Squari a second chance after I released her from her bubble," Peridot began. "but she then just ran off and got herself taken over by Hessonite's warship."

"Ah yes, the swashbuckling vigilante Hessonite." Cat's Eye said smugly. "Tell me, why isn't she here today to give a testimony?"

"Hessonite is off weeding out more of Black Rutile's supporters across many of our former colonies, alongside Citrine." Yellow Diamond answered.

"Speaking of Black Rutile, what if, and a very big if here." Cat's Eye stated. "What if Black Rutile wanted to do better than the Crystal Gems by offering these lost Gems a helping hand?"

"OBJECTION!" Pearl roared and once again pointed straight at Cat's Eye. "That no-good Rutile didn't care one bit for her subordinates! Not only did she let them all get defeated by us, but she abused her Topaz as well!"

"As I had stated earlier with Holly Blue, the Topaz was merely a subordinate to Black Rutile, especially since the Rutile had such a shockingly high status in White Diamond's court." Cat replied.

"Same with my Ruby and Pearl that fused into Rhodonite," Morganite spoke up. "It was only natural that we mistreated those beneath us."

"And on the topic of Pink Diamond's entourage," Cat declared. "allow me to call her former Pearl to the stand."

Rising from her seat, Volleyball separated from her Little Homeschool classmates to walk to the witness's stand, where Cat was awaiting her.

"My dear Pearl, you truly deserved a better Diamond than Pink." Cat cooed to Volleyball while stroking her broken eye, which was now showing the absolute faintest signs of a pupil following her fusion with her white-colored successor at the Reef. "Tell us all this court needs to know sweetie,

"Actually, you can call me Volleyball now." Volleyball corrected the defense attorney. "That's the name Steven gave me."

"VOLLEYBALL?!" Cat's Eye shrieked outrageously at the top of her lungs, quickly returning to her normal condescending tone. "I shouldn't have spoken too soon after complaining about that Peridot." She muttered while pointing a thumb over to Squaridot. "Now tell me, word on the street is that you may know a thing or two about this revolution. Is this true?"

"Yes, it's true." Volleyball revealed remorsefully, shocking the prosecutors and the jury. "Not too long after Era 3 began, I was left wondering what purpose I could still serve now that Pink Diamond was gone, until Black Rutile and Holly Blue Agate approached me with the chance to seek revenge by spying on their enemies."

"That is a bold-faced lie if I ever saw one!" Holly Blue fibbed while beginning to sweat profusely. "I never approached her in the slightest, the poor Pearl came crawling to me in tears, begging, no, pleading that she get some sort of payback for the abuse she suffered!"

"Really laying it on thick Holly." Morganite stoically muttered to the Agate.

"Yes, I can clearly see you lying." Pearl added before she walked over for Volleyball. "But as for you Volley, is it true? Did you really join Black Rutile and spy on us this whole time?"

"I'm truly sorry Pearl, they gave me no other choice." Volleyball apologized, now on the verge of tears. "I was so horrified by how they wanted to fight back against you, that I decided to back out after you and Steven offered to fix my eye." Volleyball then began to sob as she rushed out of the witness's stand and into Pearl's arms. "Please forgive me, I just didn't know any better!"

"It's okay VB, I'm here." Pearl comforted her crying fellow ex-servant. "Just let it all out."

"Wah wah wah, I betrayed your trust!" Cat's Eye mockingly cried. "Please forgive me even though I was allied with a proud sociopath! Oh brother, this era has lost all sense of justice. At least give her a week's punishment, anything."

"Big talk coming from the alleycat who doesn't have a single clue about justice." Pearl growled at Cat while Volleyball's tears started drying and she returned to the jury.

"Big talk coming from a Pearl who wanted to be free despite still essentially serving her Diamond." Cat snapped back at the Pearl. "And on that note, I feel we are ignoring the big Jasper in the room." Biggs Jasper raised her hand. "I wasn't talking to you!" Biggs lowered her hand while Cat kept a stiff upper lip. "But really, I wish to speak of a certain Jasper that has been housed on Earth lately."

"Here we go." Lapis rolled her eyes at whatever outlandish claims the defendant was going to make now.

"You see, the Jasper is just as much of a victim of Pink Diamond's faked death as pretty much everyone on this planet." Cat's Eye proclaimed. "And did the Crystal Gems ever try to extend a hand in friendship and sympathy? NO! They just let her get dragged to the bottom of the ocean in an unstable fusion, fall into an earthquake, rocketed sky-high by that Lapis, and later corrupted! That does-"

"Not make sense, we get it." Garnet interrupted what was essentially Cat's catchphrase at this point. "We tried so many times to help Jasper, but she just kept refusing out of her vendetta against Rose."

"And doesn't anyone find it ironic that Jasper has a burning hatred for a Gem that was her Diamond in disguise?" Cat shook her head with a cheeky smile. "Oh, how cruel fate can be."

"Good grief, how long can this puddytat keep yapping?" Amethyst whispered to Pearl, who just groaned and got back to her book.

As for Steven, Priyanka had gotten to work on examining her unusual patient. However, with each test she made him take, things just kept going wrong. Sticking a tongue depressor in Steven's mouth made him glow pink for the second time this appointment, taking his height stretched his neck up high, and testing his reflexes bubbled the hammer she was using. But it was taking Steven's X-rays that really clued Priyanka in on what was going on.

"So this is an average human skeleton." Priyanka demonstrated the X-ray image of exactly that to Steven before moving on to X-rays of the Crystal Gems. "By comparison, these are X-ray images that the Crystal Gems allowed me to take for research purposes. Their charts look like this."

Due to Gems having bodies of light, only their gemstones could be pictured. And in Amethyst's case, whatever she ate that day could be seen too. The doctor then showed off Steven's own skeleton, which was covered in cracks. "And this is your chart." Priyanka continued. "Definitely the skeleton of a human your age, albeit quite a large amount of fractures in the skull." She pointed out the various cracks that decorated Steven's skull. "Yet despite the injuries, everything is still perfectly aligned. Almost like the injuries healed just as fast as they were gained."

"That's good, right?" Steven nervously asked.

"Well, you've made miraculous recoveries," Priyanka replied. "but that doesn't change the fact that you've clearly been traumatized. You may have recovered physically, but what about mentally?"

"Are you saying there's something wrong with my brain?!" Steven cried as he glowed pink.

"Not wrong!" Priyanka assured Steven while kneeling to his gaze, turning his body back to its normal hue. "It's that adverse childhood experiences, or childhood trauma, can leave a lasting impact on how your body reacts to stress." She explained. "This can affect all kinds of development, social, emotional, and physical. When humans are in crisis, their brains release a hormone called cortisol. It can cause your heart to race, your muscles to tense, among other effects. I wonder if your body is perhaps reacting to the Gem equivalent of cortisol, if any. Steven, can you recall any childhood experiences that particularly stuck with you?"

"I can list so many." Steven stated before he began recounting some traumatic experiences. "It all started when I learned my favorite ice cream was discontinued around the same time I nearly got eaten by a bug monster. Then there were even more monsters that threatened my life, I got stuck in a bubble & nearly drowned, I made a new friend who nearly killed me; which is pretty often, I got turned into a giant pulsating blob of cat heads after an attempt at shapeshifting, got so old I nearly died, saw the Gems die multiple times, I woke up on a spaceship with a black eye, and more recently got tossed off a cliff."

"Steven, this is serious!" Priyanka yelled worriedly.

"That was only some of the earlier stuff!" Steven cried. "You really should've been there when I was tossed off the cliff. Black Rutile was a sociopath and proud of it!"

"I think all these experiences have subjected your body to an almost inhuman level of stress, and it's affected your ability to healthily react to new forms of stress." Priyanka deduced as Steven looked back on more harrowing experiences he's been through, from legitimately traumatizing moments to parts that would at first be seen as mere jokes or accidents. "You've been dealing with genuine threats to your life from such a young age, whether big or small, your body is responding to such minuscule threats like your life is always in danger!"

"But, why am I only swelling up now?!" Steven began fretting as he slowly felt his body change once more.

"Stress can be far less harmful when we have a circle of loved ones who can help you," Priyanka advised, causing Steven to flashback to yesterday evening's failed proposal. "Maybe if you've been drifting away from people who would've supported you, or if a recent experience had felt particularly off-"

Before Priyanka can finish, Steven began trembling in place while bolting from his chair before he began to swell up to possibly the biggest size he's ever been today, to the point of cracking the ceiling with a bash of his head.

"There are just some who don't want to be helped, and we try to respect that!" Pearl kept arguing with Cat's Eye while everyone else in the courtroom awkwardly spectating the event.

"And there are also some who you've forced to change without their consent!" Cat's Eye replied, baring her sharp teeth at the former servant. "Think of it, Black Rutile believed she could be a better ruler because she would take into account the feelings of everyone!"

"Are you sure you're not another one of her spies?!" Pearl asked, folding her arms and turning away from the defendant.

"I couldn't care less about what she's doing, I just think she raises many good points for a maniac!" Cat answered while her stuck-up image began cracking apart more and more, slowly revealing the petulant aristocrat underneath. "For example, in ending an oppressive empire, Steven created an even worse one where all who don't agree with him are deemed outcasts!"

"Steven is simply trying his best!" Pearl yelled back.

"You know, I am so glad that we invited our Homeschool classes, because this is way too much fun for just us three to get involved in." Amethyst whispered to the other Little Homeworld teachers.

"You're right, watching an uppercrust get humiliated puts a real big smile on my face." Bismuth grinned.

"They've been going on for too long." Morganite mumbled as her face was buried in the table. "Can't we just shut them up and reach a verdict already?"

"Well, if you're so loving towards Steven, then where is he now?" Cat's Eye asked one final question. "Did you actually care for him to begin with?"

"That is where you are absolutely wrong Cat." Pearl declared with a smug grin as she presented George Ikari's book to her opponent. "Steven is currently going through some tough times, and we're trying our best to help him thanks to this book from Earth. The author has a son much like Steven who lost his mother too, so he knows what he's talking about." With that, Pearl returned the book to her gem and took a bow. "Court adjourned."

It was here where Cat's Eye finally lost all control and lunged at Pearl with a mighty yowl. Gone was the smug and austere wannabe lawyer, and in with the furious predator going in for the kill.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS!" Cat's Eye shrieked as she wrestled with Pearl and kept trying to chomp at her face. "I AM CAT'S EYE, AND I WILL NOT BE TALKED DOWN TO BY A MERE PEARL!"

"Woo, catfight!" Amethyst cheered before Garnet put a stop to her revelry and prepared for a fight.

"Get ready Gems, we're in for a fight." Garnet declared while summoning her gauntlets, and the other Gems prepared for battle against the feral defendant. But fortunately for them, and unfortunately for Cat, the judge finally decided enough was enough.

"Okay, I've had enough sitting down and watching." Yellow declared fiercely before getting up from her throne and flicking a ball of electricity at Cat's Eye, making yellow lines course through her body and finally poofing her, leaving only her small gemstone to be collected by Yellow Pearl. "Now that that's settled, have we reached a verdict?"

"I believe so." Pearl responded after getting up and dusting herself off before turning to the other Gems. "What shall be decided?"

The Gems in the jury all rose up, their decision clear as day. "We, the jury, hereby declare Holly Blue Agate, Morganite, and Navy guilty as charged. In addition, Cat's Eye shall be tried for public assault of the prosecutors." Squaridot announced on the behalf of her classmates, to the horror of Holly Blue as she and her two compatriots were escorted away by Amethysts. While Morganite and Navy had resigned themselves to their fates, Holly was far less than pleased. In fact, she was furious.

"Get your hands off me, you no-good Kindergarten spawn!" Holly Blue shrieked at the Amethysts dragging her away by the arms before turning to the Crystal Gems with hatred in her eyes. "I hope you're happy Crystal Gems! Era 3 has destroyed this planet!" she yelled at the Gems. "Pretty soon, this planet is going to burn! We're all going to die! The Gem race shall be driven to extinction all because of you!"

As soon as Holly Blue was fully removed from the premises, all was finally quiet in the makeshift courtroom as the trial adjourned. Pearl let out a dramatic sigh as Garnet and Amethyst helped her back to her feet and walked her back to the prosecutor's table.

"Court is usually a lot more funny on TV." Amethyst remarked. "What Cat and Holly tried to do was just sad."

"Still, what if they're right?" Pearl moaned in exhaustion and grief. "What if we are soon to be our kind's downfall? Maybe we should've just ended colonization and left it at that."

"Don't get too down on yourself Miss Pearl." Blue Zircon lent some comforting words to Pearl. "You all tried the best you could, and that's all that should matter."

"Uh, can I go now?" Yellow Zircon shakily inquired to her fellow Gems, still reeling from being publically humiliated at the witness's stand.

"Yeah, you're dismissed." Blue Zircon told her fellow Zircon and turned back to Pearl.

"Yeah, we tried our best with Era 3, kinda like how we're trying our best with Steven." Lapis reiterated the other blue Gem's kind words. "Speaking of which, wonder how he's doing?"

"I'll go call him right now!" Pearl stated eagerly as she unsheathed her phone from her gem and began dialing Steven, but she got no answer. "Darn, no signal on Homeworld." She huffed in frustration. "Well, I hope he's doing fine."

Little did Pearl know, there was more than one reason why as to why Steven was unable to reach her, that reason being he was so stressed out, he was swelling up to a massive size.

As Dr. Laurie walked past the office Steven was in with a cup of coffee, he took one look at the giant pink boy, then back at his mug before dumping its contents into a nearby drinking fountain while Connie raced back to the office to aid her friend.

"Mom, what's happening?!" Connie asked her mother while they watched the inflating Steven fill up most of the doctor's office.

"I'm not sure dear, I just asked if he had any stressful experiences lately." Priyanka answered, trying to remain as calm in a crisis as possible while other doctors huddle around the window to watch what was happening, along with a man in sunglasses who seemed to blend in with the crowd.

"Steven, you don't think?" Connie then asked Steven.

"It's not you Connie, it's everything that's been going down lately!" Steven yelled as he grew larger and larger with every second.

"What is he talking about?" Priyanka asked, glaring at Connie.

"You haven't told your mom yet?!" Steven yelled.

"Told me what?!" Priyanka started yelling as well.

"It's not your fault Connie!" Steven tried to assure Connie amidst his growing stress. "But I still think you need to leave!"

"I refuse to leave your side!" Connie's mom fiercely declared. "This is a medical emergency!"

"Hey, you know one of us can take over!" one of the doctors watching Steven called from outside.

"No, he needs to be alone!" Connie stated. "I think anyone else being in here with him is making things worse!"

When Steven's height increased to the point of ripping his hospital gown, breaking the ceiling over him, and causing alarms to sound, the doctors took it as their cue to leave. "Point taken." That same doctor who suggested one of them take care of Steven realized before rushing away.

"Oh no!" Steven was in full-on panic mode now. If he grew any larger, the hospital would surely be destroyed. "Please, just go!"

"Steven!" Connie yelled sorrowfully.

"I just…" Steven began to cry before starting to get angry. "I CAN'T BE AROUND YOU RIGHT NOW!" The Maheswarans braced for impact as Steven's screaming broke the window behind them when suddenly, Greg came barging into the office.

"Steven!" Greg called his son's name while Connie and Priyanka turned to notice him.

"Dad?!" Steven exclaimed while finally beginning to settle down at the sight of his father.

"I'm here for you kiddo!" Greg declared as he ran up to his giant son, turning to the Maheswarans who took it as their cue to leave the area as well.

"Come on Mom, let's give them some space." Connie said to her mother as they abdicated the office.

"Alright." Priyanka agreed and took her daughter's hand while Greg took Steven's side.

"How did you know I was here?" Steven asked Greg.

"Connie called me an hour ago." Greg answered comfortingly. "Plus, I was the only one she could reach since she told me the Gems were off in space today."

"Connie?" Steven called for his friend when she and her mother were outside. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Connie beamed and spoke to him through the broken window. "I'll come when you're ready."

"I'm so sorry Steven." Greg apologized to Steven. "If I had known, I definitely would've been a big help."

"It's alright Dad," Steven sighed. "you were super busy and I didn't know what was going on."

"Come on Steven, talk to me," Greg suggested. "Just you and me, father to son."

"I, well, um," Steven stammered before tears began welling up in his eyes again. "I tried proposing to Connie!"

"You what?!" Greg yelped in alarm. "Steven, aren't you a little too young to think about marriage right now?"

"I know." Steven kept on crying. "That's one of the reasons why she said no."

"Oh, Steven." Greg sighed.

"My body, it keeps reacting like it's always the end of the world." Steven kept on complaining tearfully. "I think I've nearly witnessed the end of the world so many times now, that everything that goes wrong for me just feels that extreme! I should be feeling happy these days, Earth is at peace and it's Era 3, but Black Rutile is still out there saying I'm a bad person and I'm swelling up over all these third-era problems! What do I do now?! How do I move on after every horrible thing that's happened to me?! How can I still live my life when every day it feels like I'm going to die?!"

Despite Steven being overcome with trauma to the point of sobbing, Greg was there to lend a hand like he always did. "It's going to be alright Schtu-ball." He said while holding his son's giant finger. "I'm here for you till the end of the line."

At long last, Steven finally calmed down and began to regress to his normal size, and he only had one request for Greg. "I just want to go home."

"You bet." Greg obliged, and Steven began to fetch his clothes while Connie and Priyanka stepped back into the office. "So, what's up doc?"

"This has certainly been an eventful appointment," Priyanka stated shakily. "Real eye-opener. As I'm sure your son has already told you, he has been through more stress than is normal for a human. I suggest finding ways to monitor these breakdowns."

"I'll see what I can do." Greg nodded while Steven returned to his side fully dressed when Connie gave Steven a big hug.

Outside the office, the doctor in the sunglasses from earlier peeked from behind a corner and spoke into an earpiece. "Giant boy crisis averted." He spoke in a deep voice to someone on the other end. "Yes sir, retrieving copies of the Gems' X-ray scans as we speak." Looking around to see if anyone had caught him, the man then took off his doctor's coat to reveal a black suit underneath and walked away with no one the wiser.

That night, Steven had been returned home and taken to bed, where Greg had prepared him a warm cup of tea and a sympathetic ear to his son's plight.

"I guess I thought I could follow Connie to college." Steven explained to his dad while sipping the tea. "Like, if we got married, I'd know what to do with myself for once. But turns out I still gotta figure everything out on my own."

"Cut yourself some slack, kiddo." Greg smiled earnestly. "It's okay to be worried and make mistakes when figuring out what to do with life, nothing unusual. Okay, maybe turning pink and the swelling is kind of unusual, but I'm sure the Gems will know what to do. And if you want to be a giant boy, I can lend you the carwash to take a shower in."

"Yeah, that's the thing." Steven revealed calmly. "I haven't told the Gems everything yet because I don't want them to worry so much, just like the old days when I was just some little kid who was way over his head." That was when he made a realization and spat out his tea. "Wait Dad, your tour!"

"Don't worry about me." Greg assured his son. "Shep and Sadie will be fine on their own. Just get some rest Steven; you can't just solve every problem in one night. Speaking of the Gems, where are they?"

Just then, the father and son heard the Warp Pad activate from Steven's conservatory, and the Crystal Gems marched into his room utterly exhausted from the trial they had just returned from.

"If I meet another Gem like Cat's Eye ever again, I swear I'm going to freak!" Pearl yelled with her hands buried in her face when she noticed Steven and Greg in the same room. "Oh, good evening you two. How was your day?"

"Nothing really special you guys." Steven fibbed. "Nothing at all."

So ends Growing Pains. Have to say, this might be one of the longest chapters of Alternate Universe yet, probably because of the B-plot. How hateable did you think I made Cat's Eye? I specifically wrote her with Cruella de Vil and Franziska von Karma in mind. And speaking of despicable characters, next chapter has Steven facing quite possibly his greatest challenge yet: making Kevin a better person. Oh, this should be fun.

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #garnet #amethyst #pearl #connie maheswaran #priyanka maheswaran #greg universe #lapis lazuli #peridot #bismuth #holly blue agate #morganite #navy #yellow diamond

15 notes · View notes

thirstyforcharacters · 3 years

Text

See Through (Anakin Skywalker x Jedi Reader)

Summary: The Clone Wars have been taking a toll on you. Somehow, Anakin always knows what to say to make you feel better.

Notes: Hello! This one-shot was made to celebrate reaching 100 followers! Thank you guys soooo much! I truthfully never thought that people would pay any attention to my writing, so getting 100 followers means so freaking much to me! I hope you all enjoy this one, and thanks again! 💕💕 (no pronouns, no y/n)

Warnings: a little angst

WC: (almost) 1.1k

I am see through, baby

So take a look inside

I am see through, baby

And I don't wanna hide

For the very first time

See Through-Pentatonix

Being a Jedi meant many things. It meant diplomacy with even the most vile of creatures. It meant far too many life or death situations to be healthy. It meant being a shining beacon for all of the galaxy to look up to. It meant fighting the battles that most of the worlds never could. Most importantly, and certainly the most difficult thing, it meant keeping a facade of indifference to the pain in the world.

Well, you supposed it wasn’t indifference, necessarily. It was more so not showing that you were hurting. Not letting people see the fear that was gripping your heart when there were too many droids and not enough time to save everyone. Not showing the anger you felt when the enemy destroyed yet another town full of innocent citizens, or the heartbreak when another one of your comrades fell dead at the hands of those on the dark side.

It was growing harder to keep those emotions at bay. You could feel all of these feelings threatening to bubble over whenever you were in council meetings, on the field, or even just taking a walk. Meditation didn’t help you anymore. Nothing did.

Except the one thing that shouldn’t. Love.

Every moment that you spent with Anakin melted all of your anxieties away. Since he was more emotional than the other Jedi, he created a safe space for you to tell him all of your deepest fears. He never judged you, often sharing the same sentiments as you did. He always made you feel safe, a feeling that you thought that as a Jedi, you would never truly experience. When you were with him, you wore your heart out on your sleeve. You were see through, like a window, and you realized that you were okay with him seeing through you. Eventually, with reassurances that you could keep it quiet from the Council, the two of you got together. Unfortunately, when you needed him most, he wasn’t there.

Life was hitting you hard right now. You had lost almost a quarter of your clone troopers in a recent skirmish with the Separatists, as well as much of your equipment. You cared deeply for the men that fought by your side, and a loss of even one was enough to plunge you into the darkest depths of your thoughts. So the loss of so many made your heart indescribably heavy. You desperately needed to rest, but your pleas to the Council fell on deaf ears. They needed the remainder of your men to meet up with Master Luminara, who needed assistance with a sect of enemy fighters in the Mid Rim, and you were the closest one. When you got off of the holo call with them, you almost burst into tears. Jester, your commander, placed his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture.

“Why don’t you take a breather, General? You need as much strength as you can get before we meet up with General Unduli,” he suggested, though you knew it wasn’t really a suggestion.

“I believe I will, Commander,” you replied, “we all need a brief moment to collect ourselves before the coming battle.”

He nodded and turned back to his fellow troopers, and you dismissed yourself to your private quarters. Once there, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Everything felt like it was going wrong all at once. You had lost so many men, and no one was there to help you. No one could catch you while you were falling.

Almost as if he knew, a holo call from your beloved was coming through. You scrambled to answer it, placing the device on the table in front of you. You tried to wipe your tears away, but as soon as his figure appeared in front of you, they started as if they had never stopped.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed upon seeing the state you were in, “I’m so sorry.”

“I-It’s too much, Anakin. I c-can’t do this right now,” you sobbed.

“Yes, you can, love. I know you can. You’re one of the strongest people I know. Once you finish helping Luminara, you can come back to Coruscant again, and I can hold you as much as you need.”

“Until they send me out again. I feel stretched so thin, and it’s not going to stop anytime soon. I-I just wish you were here with me. I need you.”

It was still hard for you to be so open with your emotions, but Anakin always encouraged you to tell him everything you were feeling, even if it was negative.

“Letting go of those emotions,” he would say, “will help you in the long run. Crying releases the dark feelings we all have, and that is just as valid of a way to keep the Dark Side at bay as meditation. Don’t hold back in front of me.”

You knew he was right, which is why you allowed yourself to show him all of your vulnerabilities. You trusted him, and he trusted you with the same things in return.

“You have me now, love. I may not be with you physically, but I’m always with you, no matter what. You can do this. Just let out all of the bad stuff now, and bring the best version of yourself you can to the table for this fight. I’ll be right here for you to lean on,” he comforted.

You smiled gently through your tears, “Thank you, Anakin. Somehow, you always know what to say.”

“Anytime, baby.”

A soft knock sounded at your door then.

“General,” came Jester’s voice through the door, “we’re almost there. We need you back out on the bridge.”

“Thank you, Commander,” you replied, “I’ll be out shortly.”

You turned your attention back to Anakin, “I have to go. Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

“Of course. Good luck out there, and may the Force be with you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you murmured softly.

You saw a smile spread across his face as well before he ended the call. You straightened yourself out before exiting your room, where Jester was waiting for you.

“Better now, General?” he asked with a knowing look.

“Much, Commander. Now, let’s blow up some droids.”

Jester smirked, “That’s my general.”

The two of you walked swiftly down the winding hallways. No matter what happened during this fight, you were ready. And it was all thanks to the only man who had truly made you feel like you never had to hide.

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker angst #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker fic #anakin skywalker fanfiction #clone wars #x reader #x reader fluff #x reader angst #x reader fic #x reader fanfiction

77 notes · View notes

houndin-around · 4 years

Text

Cozenage | Maul’s Padawan pt.2

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, master/padawan relationship(she’s of age), smut, some angst

Wc: 4,496

Author notes; so it seems the first part I did was really well liked so he’s part II! I’m glad you guys liked the first one and I hope like this one too! This is my first ever smut writing..so uh please be gentle 🥺 I was really considering not doing this but here it is!!

“I just don’t understand why we haven’t found her yet!” the voice echoed throughout the council meeting, frustration visible.

“We’ve used all the resources we have at the moment, to find (y/n) Feles. Remember Coruscant is a very large city. The security forces can only do so much. We know two gangsters approached her, perhaps other members of the group took her. The two won’t give up any more information.” Mace Windu informed, his tone lacking any sort of sympathy.

“They must be hiding something. What if the separatists got a hold of her?”

The Jedi council took a deep breath, connecting with the force to figure out where in the galaxy you could be. As the days drag on, your old master is filled with vexation. There was more going on though then he let on, something far more suspicious than the others could read. He needed you, he needed your power even though it hasn’t reached it’s full potential yet. However, he knew you’d soon have the proper training that would be satisfactory enough.

“Clouded by the dark side, her future is. Something hiding her, no something protecting her. A dangerous force, I feel.” worry presented itself in Master Yoda’s voice. His body soon becoming rigid at the thought of you possibly choosing the path on your own accord.

After the confirmation that darkness has surrounded you, the meeting was adjourned but some masters remained behind. Some understood the complex relationship you had with your master, and his feelings toward you so to them they couldn’t calculate as to why Feles was acting the way he was.

“It just doesn’t add up. Even Ahsoka has shared some privileged information regarding the treatment (y/n) has received. I think Master Feles has some secrets of his own. An apprentice could be in severe danger, we have to do something! We can’t just sit around and wait for more information to be given up!”

Heads turned to the brash Jedi knight who was now on his feet filled with emotions. Of course, Obi-wan Kenobi was used to these types of behaviors from his previous padawan so the effect was little to none at this point. Quite frankly, Obi-wan agreed with Anakin for something did feel out of place.

“And what do you expect to be done, young Skywalker? Compel Feles to give up information he doesn’t even have? How do you expect that to look on the council’s part?” Windu’s glare could cut right through any other Jedi, yet for Skywalker it did absolutely nothing.

“As shocking as it may be, I agree with Anakin. It’s out of character for Feles to even show such emotion for another being, let alone an apprentice he’s never gotten along with. It couldn’t hurt to investigate a little more without him knowing?” Obi-wan’s voice was soft, though his point was persuasive as he gained some nods from his fellow Jedi.

--------------

“Fix your posture. Tighten up your right arm too. You’re all over the place today. Is something bothering you?” Maul inquired, soft eyes roaming your body.

“I’m sorry...I just can’t get it right. I’m failing you..” your voice was barely audible, shame running hot in your cheeks.

Shaking his head, the zabrak mosied over to you with narrowed eyes. “That is far from the truth and you know it (y/n)” his tone earnest, though deeper than normal. “The only way to vanquish the seventh form is by silencing your mind. Your apprehension, inner turmoil, is what’s stopping you. Feel the force flow through your body, let it guide you.” his tone was gentle, coaxing you to continue trying.

Standing adjacent to you, Maul activated his double-bladed saber and began moving through the positions of form seven. The fluidity was breathtaking, his saber cutting the air erratically yet he managed to remain in full control. As he demonstrated the form for you, his breathing became heavy and sweat glazed over his forehead. He managed to show no indication of fatigue, finishing off with one last throw in the air and a force push. Watching him sent a fiery sensation throughout your body and resting in your core, causing you to bite your lower lip. The sweat began dripping down his neck only intensifying the ache within. He was your master and nothing more, however, your body reacted otherwise anytime you looked at him the desire growing each moment.

“You make it look easy” you pouted, clipping your lightsaber to your belt followed by crossing your arms across your chest.

“Because I trust in the force and have a tranquil mind my apprentice.” his brow cocked as he noticed the heat settling in your cheeks. “Let me help you.”

Sheathing his saber, Maul shifted closer to you placing his hilt in your hands. Feeling the uncertainty bubbling within you, he placed his hands over yours guiding you through the movements breath hot on your neck. There were quite a few times your Master had touched you but this was unconventional, it had a different meaning behind it, so much so butterflies whirled in the pit of your stomach encouraging you to act on impulse. Pretending to adjust your stance, you play off accidentally backing into the crimson zabrak a little more, earning a faint groan. Making contact with him, his hands instantly grasp your hips, causing your core to burn in arousal. The tension was building between you both, so full of desire, except none of you made the next move. Without hesitation, Maul spun you around to face him, the space between you growing smaller. His amber eyes searched yours, slowly moving in closer pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. It was as if he was holding back, resisting the urge of something you couldn’t read.

Opening his eyes and licking his lips Maul began to speak, “I...I think it’s time we finish up here. This form takes a lot of energy out of you and it is imperative you rest.” just as he finishes you catch him glancing over your body once more.

You gave a small nod before he broke the connection and taking his lightsaber back. A defeated sigh escaped your lips, you were so close to discovering if your assumptions were true and yet you were afraid to make the final move. Frustration boiled inside as you followed Maul to the shared room you have. He was possessive and protective resulting in you both sharing a room and bed as a precaution. The idea of someone taking you in the middle of the night haunted him and so his solution was being with him the majority of the time. Despite sharing a bed, boundaries were set in place by pillows placed down the middle of the bed to avoid any accidental contact. Entering the room, you went straight toward your drawers grabbing a clean pair of robes to take with you into the refresher. You wanted some time alone, time to process what just happened, and to figure out what it was you were truly feeling. Not even saying a word to Maul, you padded to the ‘fresher, placing your dark-colored robes on the marble sink, you undressed and turned on the sanisteam adjusting it to the temperature you enjoyed.

Stepping inside, you crossed your arms, hands on your shoulders taking in the warmth of the water washing away the weight of the day. After today’s events, you just wanted to stay within the transparisteel walls that protected you from the embarrassment of your actions. How could you be so rash? What if Maul didn’t even feel the same way you did and was simply holding back anger from you? Maybe you’re just confusing your emotions and don’t even want him like that? The doubts your Master had told you to rid of, came back with a vengeance with more to ponder on. Going to sleep tonight especially in the same bed as Maul seemed impossible.

The crackling of the fire filled your ears along with the smell of burning wood. Your mind buzzing with thoughts still confused about your feelings and actions. It wasn’t just the actions of today, your thoughts grew more intense focusing on the new path laid ahead. How did you end up here in such a position? What made you choose him and why Mandalore? During your first encounter, Maul had forgotten to mention that he was the new ruler of Mandalore. Despite having asked, it was something he did not want to discuss at least not yet. He also kept you hidden from the public eye of Mandalore citizens, those that were very close to Maul, like Death Watch, were able to meet you but that was it.

He didn’t lie though when he promised to train you. Much like earlier, he was so keen on helping you improve your technique and answer any question you had even if it didn’t pertain to the current lesson. You learned more from him than your previous master but even if the zabrack wasn’t like Feles, you still feared the inevitable errors. No matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, Maul intimidated you. You’ve witnessed his temper when it came to Death Watch. Metal lightly clinking against the marble flooring of the Sundari Royal Palace caused you to jump out of your skin.

“Do you fail to recall the ability I have when it comes to hearing your thoughts?” his voice was thick with sleep, brows furrowed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, Master. I just couldn’t sleep.” More like you didn’t want too. Rubbing the back of your neck, you noticed Maul inching closer to you out of your peripheral.

“You know, I’m more aware than you think. I know you have been coming out here the past few nights. I disregarded it with the expectations of it passing, but now. Now it seems it’s becoming a pattern. The only exception being, something seems to be troubling you a lot more than the previous nights.” eyes narrowing, his gaze fixated on you as he kept inching closer until there was about two inches worth of space between the both of you once more.

It baffled you how over the short period, things started to get a little different compared to when you first met. There was a type of tension between you both, though you couldn’t exactly put your finger on what it was. Today you tested those waters but instead of helping you, it only confused you more. The way he touched you though was unexpected, however, in certain circumstances, he would wrap his arm around your waist to pull you in closer to him if members from Death Watch were present.

“Hmm and yet again, the white noise is back. Care to enlighten me?” a sly grin presented itself on his face exposing his incisors.

“I don’t know. I’m confused about some things and there’s just a lot on my mind. I’m terrified Feles will find me and what would happen if he did...” sucking in a breath, lip quivering “I don’t want to live in constant fear of..”

Maul’s gaze soon became soft as he realized how much damage has been done to his apprentice. The apprentice he cares so deeply for that words alone could never express it all. His eyes searched yours, knowing you seek solace from him but he was unable to formulate a sentence.

“Just the thought about what happens if the Jedi find me? And when they see..”

“When they see you with me.” Maul interjected, his mouth forming into a frown.

“That’s not what I meant,” you mumbled, “I meant, will they take me? And what about you? What would they do to you? Surely they wouldn’t just slap you on the wrist…I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something were to happen to...” trailing off, the mere thought of Feles coming for you made you nauseous. Not because of what he’d do to you no, but what he was capable of doing to Maul. The only being in this galaxy that cared for you so much, could be in danger due to the choice you made.

“(y/n) I made an oath to train you, but that also included protecting you as you’re my apprentice. My dear fret not, for we’d be made well aware of the Jedi’s presence in advance. Besides, you think he’d be able to take me on?” Pressing his forehead against yours, you can tell there was an abundance of words being withheld from you, but how could you get it out of him?

“Now little one, it’s time you get some rest.” his voice honeyed, flashing memories from when you first met. This zabrack was so forbearing with you, no matter how pissed off he’d get he’d turn to you and it would diminish instantly something you still needed to adjust to. Without any hesitation, Maul scooped you up in his arms carrying you toward the bedroom. The thought of going to sleep sounded delightful until you remembered the wall of pillows that separated your bodies. On occasions where you’ve woken from night-terrors, the boundaries were forgotten, the safety of his arms bringing you back to reality. Tonight seemed like one of those nights at least you hoped.

Placing you delicately on the soft mattress, he folded the sheets over you before shuffling over to his side of the bed. Swiftly he removed the top portion of his robes exposing his bare skin, the red skin, and black tattoos perfectly intertwined with one another creating breathtaking patterns. It was moments like these, especially during lessons, that increased your heart rate, the desire eating away at you making your body do, and feel things it’s not used to. Maker was he handsome. Slipping into bed, he started to arrange the extra pillows in the usual barrier causing you to look at him with pleading eyes. A small grin enveloped his features as he threw the extra pillows aside, waiting for you to move the rest of the way.

“You could have just asked.” maul smirked while wrapping his arms around you, chin resting on the crown of your head, your face buried in his neck.

“I’m..s-” his arm briskly unraveled, bringing the pad of his index finger to your lips.

“No. No more of that.” he hushed, his hand slowly dipping underneath your chin to lift it encouraging your eyes to meet.

Being so close to you, holding you, was enough to rile up the zabrak his mind being engulfed by lust. His breathing becoming ragged the thought of withholding himself anymore was too painful. He needs to let go and show you just how badly he wants you, and for you to be his. After your little stunt from training, the sinful thoughts wouldn’t leave his mind. His eyes met yours, luring you into his trap. This time it was inevitable, there was no escape but you didn’t run, you wanted to this, to be his.

Leaning in, your lips collide together, the kiss rough but full of passion, leaving you both ravenous for more. His hands slowly begin to wander your body, molding to your form, savoring how your skin feels. Pulling apart, Maul lowers his mouth on the soft flesh of your neck, open-mouthed kisses that leave you feeling light-headed. Soft whimpers filled the zabrak's ears, as you crave his mouth all over your body. Slowly he begins climbing on top of you, his kisses slowly turning into nips. A small gasp escapes your mouth as his hands find their placement on your hips, his grip growing more intense by the second just like earlier.

“Is this okay..?” he brought his lips back to yours for a chaste kiss.

Inhaling sharply, you nod, cheeks beginning to flush from the eye contact.

“Good. Did you think I’d let you get away with that tease during training?” the low guttural growl from him was enough to send you over the edge.

Your skin was prickling, pressure building up between your folds. You wanted him badly, you ached for him, he even knew that except he was going to tease you until you couldn’t handle it anymore. His hands traveled to the hem of your robes, glancing at you for permission. Once you give him the go, Maul wasted no time getting the fabric off your body casting it aside. Your heart now pounding you were exposed in front of him, the chilled air making your nipples harden. The zabrak’s pupils were dilated, his amber eyes glowing with passion. A low growl emerged from him as he brushes his lips against yours. His touch was intoxicating, leaving you dizzy and breathless.

“I can no longer hold back. Now that I know what you want,” he whispered. “Let me take care of you..” he pleaded, breath hot against your neck.

Hands splayed across your chest, he grabs your breasts, nipples between his index finger and thumb tugging lightly. You let out another soft whimper, only to be muffled by his lips begging for another taste. The tip of his tongue traced the outline of your bottom lip waiting to gain entrance. Opening your mouth, tongues were rolling together in the passionate fiery kiss while his hand began to slide down toward your heated core very slowly. Mouth trailing down once more, his teeth connected with your neck nipping hungrily. The need to wanting to mark you as his, now in full control. Reaching your breasts Maul couldn’t help but nip and suck the flesh leaving several glowing marks that added to the collection he created.

“Gods have I craved you..” he groaned.

“If only you knew what went through my mind….” your voice quivering as his tongue swirled around your nipple, sending a wave of ecstasy through your body.

A smirk enveloped his features hearing the words leave your mouth, only for it to be replaced with an arched brow as his hand reaches your folds.

"Seems like someone is a bit eager?" Maul teased, his middle finger gliding up and down your slit, barely touching your entrance.

Pleasure consumed your body causing you to buck your hips into the digit. A sly grin plastered itself on his face as he pulls away, his torturous teasing making you beg.

"Please..maul.." you cried out, grabbing his wrist and placing his hand over your pussy.

"Tsk tsk," he growled, leaving his hand on your heated core but eyes burning into you. "You're still being punished."

His teasing was driving you insane, you couldn't control yourself anymore. The warning that left his lips was so seductive, giving you the confidence to wrap your arms around the zabrak's neck.

"Two can play this game.." you muttered in his ear. Placing feathery kisses along his throat, earning several moans from Maul.

His thumb began circling your swollen bud in retaliation along with his middle finger brushing against your entrance. Seeing the relief wash over your face, he grinned as he began to insert his digit inside you. Just feeling of how wet you were because of him was enough to make him lose all inhibition. Breaking free from your grip around him, he slid down your body spreading your thighs farther apart. The need to taste you was overwhelming. Placing delicate kisses on the inside of your thighs followed by several on the lips of your pussy, Maul then delved his tongue deep inside. The sensation was one you've never even thought to experience, toes curling and moans ringing throughout the room. The sheets bundled up in your hands weren't enough, you needed something rigid. Your hands made their way to his horns latching on as he kept lapping away at your pussy.

"Maker are you delicious (y/n).." he murmured, still deep between your folds.

The ability to speak was taken away from you, the only things you were able to let out were moans and whimpers from the satisfaction. Maul gave you one last tongue swirl around your clit before breaking away to pull off his bottom robes. His body was stunning, intricate patterns woven all over even around his cock. Speechless, you reach out and slide your hand down his chest, abdomen, until your hand wraps around his hard, ribbed cock. Precum glazed his tip, however, your attention was soon taken to his size. He was larger than you expected, hesitation filling you at the thought of him tearing into you. Sensing your apprehension, he places a warm hand on your cheek.

"I'll take it slow at first okay just relax..?" he cooed, leaning in for a kiss.

Seconds later, Maul was guiding himself in, your walls stretching around his cock. Judging by the minor grimace on your face, he pauses so you could adjust to his length while whispering praises in your ear.

Trying to push past the minor discomfort, you locked eyes with Maul, "Go ahead. Fuck me. I need it...I need you inside me" you whined.

"As you wish darling...but don't forget. You asked for it." he grinned, planting a kiss on your lips.

Soon enough he was beginning to thrust into you rhythmically, the pain being replaced by ecstasy. Curses rolled off your tongue while he growled and grunted back, his breathing ragged and muscles rippling. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he pinned your hands against the bed, sinking deeper into your core. His warm skin against yours was even better than you had imagined it. A sheen of sweat began to cover his body, glistening in the low light.

Throwing your head back against the mattress, jaw-slacked, Maul began leaving another trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck as well as a wandering hand toward your clit. Pleasure scorched through your entire body, the pressure building in your stomach making your walls tighten around his member.

"Gods...Maul...I'm so..cl-" you whimpered, a gasp leaving your lips as his thumb began brushing against your clit.

"No, I'm not done with you yet." he growled, pulling his thumb away and placing his hands on your hips.

"Kriff!" with his thumb retreating from your swollen bud, you needed something to replace the euphoric sensation. "Fuck me harder then.."

His hands made their way to your hips, grasp tightening as his thrusts increase. The room was filled with skin slapping against skin and the musky smell of sex. Your nails found their way into Maul's sweaty flesh on his shoulder blades causing him to release a guttural growl.

"That's my good girl." he rasped, licking his lips. "Look at you are taking this zabraki cock." his praise was so alluring, that you'd do anything to hear more.

You could tell by the way he was breathing that he was nearing the edge causing him to lose himself completely. Maul was absolutely feral, hearts pounding, lost to the pleasure that devoured his body. Despite his strokes becoming sloppy they still managed to hit your g-spot each time, bliss traveling throughout your body. Your pussy was soaking wet. Him being balls deep, cock swelling and pulsating left you breathless. You couldn't hold back anymore you needed to let go.

"Please..please Maul I can't hold back anymore...I need to cum...please..." you implored, your nails digging even deeper into his flesh.

"Go...ahead. Cum for me..." he groaned barely able to catch his breath.

He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut. Your orgasm struck you like lightning, vision going black and thighs trembling. Amid yours, Maul then came, the feeling of him pulsating stronger than before. Pleasure rippled through his body making him buckle on top of you breathing roughly. Coming down from your high, you wrap your arms around the zabrak giving him a moment to recover.

"Well..." he inhaled still laying on top of you. "That was...unexpected."

"yeah.." you mumbled trying to come up with more words, though your mind was blanking as exhaustion was washing over.

"At least you now know what happens when you pull something like that," he teased. He shifted slightly pulling himself out of your cum filled pussy.

"Guess that means I'll have to do it again huh?" you blurted out before realizing what you had just said.

"So the apprentice still hasn't learned her lesson hmm?" his brow arched, amusement in his tone. "Next time I won't hold back then."

"You were holding back?" you sucked in a breath, feeling the tingling sensation between your thighs. Maker was your body going to be sore in the morning.

Maul swung his legs over you and sat at the edge of the mattress before standing up. He chuckled at your question, giving a curt nod. “I may have made a mess out of you…” he grinned, looking at the marks he left behind. “Come now, let’s get you in the refresher.”

Taking your hand, he helped you up and walked you over to the refresher, hand resting on the small off your back. Once he got you situated, he walked back out to grab his robes and slipped into the bottom half.

“Sir you have an urgent holocall!" a Death Watch member frantically barging into the bedroom.

Hearing a voice erupting from the bedroom, you turned the shower on but walked over to the closed door trying to eavesdrop. Who was coming in so late at night?

"Lower your voice!" Maul hissed, meeting the Mandalorian half-way.

"I'm sorry sir...it's just extremely urgent. It's Fele-,"

Maul interjected him, "Don't finish that sentence."

The Mandalorian shut his mouth quickly fear washing over him. Taking a deep breath he started again. "He's asking if you have her..." his voice in a hushed tone.

A wave of nausea hit you. There were only several ways that sentence could have ended. You walked over to the shower not wanting to hear any more in fear of the truth. Stepping in, the warm water provided you comfort as sobs wracked your body. You slowly slid your back down the transparisteel not wanting to ever leave the shower. Was his offer just a deception? How could he pretend just like everyone else? How could he be so vulnerable with you and seal the bond he claimed existed? None of it made sense to you and that made the anxieties worse. You needed to leave, to escape.

"Tell him I don't," Maul uttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Uh..well he requests your presence.." the young Mandalorian shifted uncomfortably.

Maul had enough. His frustration peaked causing him to use the force grip. The young mando dropped his helmet as he was grabbing at his throat, struggling to breathe. His eyes wide and beginning to tear, he truly felt as if he was about to die right then and there. Releasing the grip, Maul dropped the young man to the ground before walking right over him.

"Since you're incompetent, I will deal with this." he spat, anger fueling him.

#Clone Wars #star wars x reader #star wars clone wars #star wars #darth maul #darth maul x reader #darth maul smut #maul x reader #maul smut

235 notes · View notes

jincherie · 5 years

Text

intermission • iii | moonchild

• ☽ — pairing: bts x reader • ☽ — genre: crack, fluff, angst, college/uni au • ☽ — words: 4.6k • ☽ — rating: sfw • ☽ — warnings: rabid old ladies and tree-climbing shenanigans • ☽ — notes: another intermission! this is my last part for now, miss zee will be writing the next two and then we will see my return!!!! but until then, please indulge us n show miss zee some love!! she works hard for it :’< also because with zee’s next chapter... we see a bit of a twist arise!

— posted; 09.06.2019

When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

— • masterlist | prev | intermission iii | next • —

— some time in first year —

The afternoon air is cool and the sun is a soft, comforting warmth against the exposed parts of Kim Namjoon’s skin, chasing away the slight bite of the cold that lingers in the breeze due the transitional season as he walks home. He’s just finished fulfilling his third ‘help wanted’ poster duty of the day, collecting the sheets, both handwritten and printed alike, from shopping mall billboards like Pokémon. He has a thick wad of them folded up and wedged in his back pocket (he’d forgotten his trusty messenger bag this morning that, despite being two snapped threads away from falling apart completely, has always managed to see him through the day) and a comparatively much smaller wad in his other back pocket, of the odd jobs his managed to complete through the week.

His rationale for being such an upstanding citizen and going out of his way to help anyone and everyone he can? Two things—experience, and references. He knows it’s a harsh world, and to succeed you have to prepare yourself as much as possible for everything to come. So when the time comes that he steps into the adult, working world after graduating… he doesn’t doubt he’s going to be one of the best prepared people they’ve ever seen.

Plus, sometimes the little old ladies and distraught pet owners he helped gave him a few dollars as a tip. Unnecessary and not something he asks for, but Namjoon isn’t one to turn away a gift when it could do wonders for his loose change jar. It satisfies him to see the little glass thing with a cork lid get fuller and fuller each weak. He blames the deep, primal part of his monkey brain that likes seeing a big collection of shiny objects like coins. It sparks joy, one could say.

The odd job he’s just completed was a little dryer than the rest, if he’s being honest. It was much simpler than the ad for it had made out— just helping some fellow uni student as clueless as him fix their broken toilet roll. All he had to do was find the screw that came out and the student gave him, like, a whole box of frozen chicken patties in return. Which… isn’t so bad but also, Namjoon considers himself an intellectual and while he may be bought by food he still longs for a mental challenge. So despite how usually he gets in about three a day, on a good day, but even thought this is his third one he’s still… hungry for more. He’s also hungry in the literal sense; the last job made him miss lunch and now his stomach is performing an acapella version of ‘feed me, feed me, you bastard’. A classic hit, one he is especially familiar with. He’ll have to rifle through the papers in his back pocket and suss out whether any of the posters seem the type to provide food for the help.

He’s still toying with the idea when he happens across an unexpected scenario that seems to have been dropped into his path by the fates themselves. Along one side of the footpath are suburban homes and their small front yards and cute little mailboxes, and to the other is the occasional tree and then the plain asphalt of the road. About a yard in front of him, just far enough that he can’t really see even with his glasses on, there seems to be a bit of a commotion occurring near one of the larger trees lining the street.

Excitement probably shouldn’t be his first reaction, but it is, and Namjoon hurries his long-legged gait so that he can reach the spectacle sooner. He doesn’t know what he looked like but walking like this, he feels a bit like those spiders with the tiny bodies and disproportionately long, spindly legs. And here he is, going to help out like the friendly neighbourhood spiderman. He slapped his thigh, eyes wide. He might be an iron man enthusiast at heart, but damn that’s a good line for his resume.

The closer Namjoon gets to the commotion he’d spotted from afar, the more he realises he might have hit jackpot. The source of the loud yelling and frantic movements seems to be a woman, a little on the elderly side, with her wild salt and pepper curls defying gravity in some places and clumping in others—it takes Namjoon a moment to realise that she’s actually attempted to tie her hair back and that’s why it looks a little bit deformed from the distance. As he draws closer, he notes that she looks a little unhinged. His reaction to such a thing should be caution, and he should feel wary, but all he can think is hell yes this woman clearly needs help and he is going to help her, damn it.

“Pudding, come down! Please! I’m sorry for calling you fat, Pudding! I didn’t mean it!”

As soon as he’s within earshot, he hears the woman sobbing hysterically as she claws at the thick trunk of the tree. She’s too small to reach the lowest hanging branch, and has taken to draping herself pitifully against the leaning trunk as she scrabbles against the bark with her nails. The woman wails, pitifully, voice piercing the air like a siren, or a banshee, “Pudding!”

Confused as he may be, he’s sure that as soon as he asks the lady what happened, he’ll be as clued in as possible. Namjoon clears his throat and composes himself, before stepping forward and speaking loud enough that the woman can hear him over her own loud weeping.

“Excuse me, ma’am, is everything alright? Do you require assistance of any kind?”

The lady spins around, a crazy glint in her eye, and belatedly, Namjoon begins to feel a little wary in addition to the wave of concern that seems to have caught up to him from where he left it in the dust.

“My pudding,” the woman wails, lurching and attaching herself to Namjoon like he is the tree she’d just been attempting to scale. Her nails dig into his arms, and the male is suddenly thankful for the long sleeves of his shirt and jacket protecting them from being punctured by her claws. “My pudding is stuck in the tree.”

A few beats of silence sound in Namjoon’s head, before finally a thought spawns into being. This woman…. Did she fling her dessert into the tree? God, it’s worse than he thought. He never expected to walk upon such a tragedy.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, ma’am,” Namjoon says, sincerely sympathetic. Being prone to trips and falls as he is, he has been victim many a times to accidentally flinging food all over the place. His heart goes out to her, his hands coming to pat her forearms with only a little hesitance (distantly, a part of him wonders if the crazed look in her eye is due to rabies, and the whiteness of what he assumes is snot all over her face and mouth makes him a little nervous). “Would you like help? I can get the pudding down from the tree, and then you can go on ea—”

“Oh, would you, dear?” the woman’s grip tightens like a vice as she cuts him off, wide, glassy eyes gleaming with hope. Is she starting to froth at the mouth a bit? Namjoon chooses to ignore that observation. “Please, please get him down. He’s the fat bastard on the second highest branch, and he -hic- must be so scared.”

Namjoon resists the instinct to make a face just barely— is she referring to her pudding as a he, and did she just call her pudding a fat bastard?— and instead follows the old woman’s shaking hand as it point to the top of the tree. Realisation slaps him in the face.

There, sitting right on the thickest part of the second highest branch near the trunk and somehow still managing to bow it, is both the fattest and the ugliest but most oddly endearing cat Namjoon has ever seen. At least, he thinks it’s a cat. It’s a cat until proven otherwise, he decides.

“Oh,” Namjoon says, staring at the cat. The cat stares back, and Namjoon gulps at the sudden goblin energy it seems to be radiating. “Pudding.”

The woman, still babbling incoherently while Namjoon creates a half-assed sort of mental plan for how to proceed and reach the top of the tree, starts shaking him slightly in her distress. Being a music major doesn’t prepare him for shit like this, he laments. This lady better have some food on the table for the trauma she’s currently inflicting.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get pudding.” He gingerly brushes her grip off him, surprised she let go with such little convincing, and makes his way to the trunk of the tree. The cat stares him down the entire time, lidded yellow eyes peering into the depths of his being and pulling out his innermost fears. Namjoon feels like this cat is the kind of thing you peer under your bed as a child and see balled up in the corner, hissing, with big fangs and ominous man-eating energy. This cat looks like the second Namjoon is within reach he’s going to claw his face off or eat his ears. A shiver rolls down his spine, but he pushes on. He’s going to climb this tree, make this cat his bitch, and bring it back down for the crazy old lady who has started breathing extra heavy the closer he gets to the tree. Distantly, one of his braincells knocks around and whispers that this feels like when Hansel and Gretel got tricked by a witch and her candy house— except in this situation the candy house is Namjoon’s incredible need for good references and experience. Annoyed at the errant brain cell, he flicks it away mentally and tries to think of a way up the tree when he reaches the base.

Well, he supposes he’s just gonna have to go up branch by branch and see which ones he can reach with his long noodle legs. He has to bring his foot up past his ear to clamber onto the first branch, and amongst the pain of essentially doing the splits he feels oddly proud of himself. Kim Namjoon; outstanding citizen, academic, genius music major, now gymnast. It has a nice ring to it. Perhaps he should consider broadening his horizons and extending his athleticism.

Scaling the tree is actually much easier than he anticipated. None of the branches are too far or too high to reach, and he’s satisfied with the effortlessness this job has taken so far. This will look fantastic on his record— he can’t forget to get a written statement from the rabies lady.

Before he knows it, he’s come face to face with the cat. Up close, it radiates even more demonic goblin energy, and Namjoon feels his knees quake slightly in response. It doesn’t meow, doesn’t even growl, merely bares its teeth in greeting, and the male gulps. Alright, time to make this cat his bitch for a moment and save that old lady’s day.

“Hey puss,” Namjoon greets, a little rusty on his cat conversation etiquette. “Come here puss, here, tch tch.”

The cat, fearing neither god nor man, merely sits and looks at Namjoon as he makes kissy noises in an attempt to lure it. ‘You think you can control me?’ It feels as though the cat says to him, with its apathetic, golden-eyed stare, ‘I belong to no one, fool. I will perish before I move at your will.’

Alright, seems like he’s just gonna have to scoop him up and go. Hopefully his nature is a docile as the name Pudding implies and his intimidating outside is just a farce.

Namjoon leans against the trunk of the tree as he reaches for the cat and takes it into his arms successfully— it’s too fat to put up much of a fight, and for that the male is thankful, even if it now feels like he’s holding a boulder in his arms and they’re going to fall off if he doesn’t deposit it soon. What does that lady feed this cat?! Cement?!

Having secured the old lady’s bag, Namjoon directs his gaze downwards and goes to embark on the next step in the plan to climb the tree for the cat and then climb down with the cat— as expected, it’s time for the latter. Wait, speaking of—

A ladder? God he wishes he had one of those right now, because he’s just realised that he has no idea how to get down. The cat’s belly gives an almighty rumble and, expectedly, it throws Namjoon a little off balance. The old lady is calling out hoarsely several many feet below them, and Namjoon feels a little overwhelmed as he considers possibilities and analyses paths down.

Gulping, he makes a calculated decision— unfortunately, he was never that great at maths.

x x

An afternoon stroll through the streets surrounding your dorm is just what you need, some fresh air to sooth your tired, university student soul and refresh your mind.

At least, that’s what you decided like ten minutes ago. Currently, you’re not sharing the same sentiments as past-you so much. This is mostly due to the abundance of unhinged elderly and zombified youth that seem to have had the same idea as you and that are now milling about unchecked. You accidentally stepped off the footpath before and stepped maybe ten centimetres onto someone’s lawn. That someone happened to be a short, stout middle-aged couple that had matching outdated hairdos, and they were not happy about you ‘messing up their lawn’. Before embarking on this walk, you could have proudly said you’d never been chased down the street by some screaming woman with a broom before. Now though, you’re no longer a virgin to that particular experience. You’re not going home as the same woman you were when you left.

The street that you’ve just turned onto, on your journey back to your dorms, is remarkably less chaotic than the rest and you feel yourself letting out a breath of relief. Finally, you thought you were going to combust from the stress alone. As relieved as you are though, you don’t let down your guard; you’ve been burnt before, thank you very much.

Not even three houses down the street, your reservations are proven right. There is an elderly woman, who appears afflicted with a sickness of some sort if the fluids all over her face are anything to go by, who is sobbing and moping at the base of a tree in what you hope is her front yard. Confronted with the strange situation, a part of you instinctively wants to help her— the other part tells you to turn tail and go down another street because this could be one of those traps where they trick you with a crying child or old lady and then mug you, taking all your money and any candy still surviving in your pockets.

Ultimately, the more empathetic side of you wins out and you hesitantly begin to walk closer to the woman clawing at the tree and screaming about desserts.

“Uh, excuse me ma’am, are you o—”

You don’t even get to finish before there is a sudden series of snaps and cracks from the tree above you and a mass comes hurtling down from the foliage. You scream, the sheer blood-curdling nature making your throat ache, and just about shit yourself as you launch away. Where you stood, a shape smacks into the ground with a hearty thunk that shakes the earth a little beneath your feet. You were right, you’re about to get mugged!

“AHH FUCK WHAT THE FUCK FUCK OFF I KNOW KATANA!”

The mass on the ground groans and you blink, watching with absolute dumbfoundedness as it shifts and suddenly the fattest cat you’ve ever seen is parting from it and running towards the woman in hysterics by the base of the tree. For such an absolute unit, it moves fast, and barely a moment passes before the massive load of a cat is wrapped firmly in the old lady’s arms.

“Pudding,” she weeps into his coat, the cat pinning you and the lump at your feet with an ominous, dead-eyed stare over her shoulder. “Oh my sweet, fat bastard— don’t you ever do that again, okay? Oh my sweet baby—”

She turns, mumbling into the fur of her cat as she begins to depart from the tree and make her way back to the house that you presume to be hers. For a moment you forget about the lump at your feet, until you hear it let out a pathetic whimper.

“My reference and commendation…”

You let out another scream, for some reason not at all expecting it to speak words. When you look down, however, you instantly feel guilty.

The thing that fell from the tree was a man and he landed right on his ass.

“Oh wait holy shit are you okay?!” Now that you’re over your fear of being mugged, you run over to the man and pop a concerned squat next to his curled up form. “What the hell were you doing up there? Did you steal that crazy lady’s cat?!”

The male at your feet groaned, bereft. “No, I was helping her get the cat down. Holy shit, my buns…”

You turn your gaze to his heinie, realising that with how hard he hit the ground he very likely has broken something. God, now that you think about it, he could have broken his tailbone. You have a friend that did that in highschool— it wasn’t fun, and it wasn’t pretty. And the thought that this poor man who fell from the tree and scared the absolute shit out of you might have done the same… oh, you felt for him. He attempted to roll and let out a pathetic groan. Oh yeah, he definitely broke it.

“Wait, don’t move! I think you broke your tailbone when you fell! Don’t move too much.” You hurry to halt him, and all he can muster in response is another sad groan.

“God, I- I can’t see…” he dropped his head against the earth, eyes shut. “The light… it’s growing closer.”

“H-hang on!” You panic, hands flying into the air. “We need to get you help! We need to get you to a hospital! Please don’t go into the light!”

The male groans again, and you flounder— you have to get him to the ER! It’s more serious than you thought. Panicked, you scramble for a way to get him up and mobile. Finally, an idea occurs to you, and you survey the man’s lanky form to try and assess how well it’s going to work out. A grimace finds its way to your face.

You’re going to be so sore later.

x x

For forty minutes, you carried the long-limbed male on your back like nothing but a pack mule. Twenty minutes of that you spent walking, feeling like that Atlas bitch carrying the heaviest thing imaginable on your back and shoulders; and the other twenty was spent taking (read: waiting for) public transport. By the time you arrived to the hospital and got the man on your back checked in (you learned his name is actually Kim Namjoon and he’s a student, much like you), you felt as though at any second you were going to pass out. You still feel like that, actually, as you sit in the chair along the wall across from the male’s bed, which has the curtains drawn as the doctor inspects him, and attempt to recover. You’re sweaty, and gross, and desperately want a coffee. You even considered slipping some of the paper from the mysterious wad in his back pocket before you realised it isn’t money. You didn’t get to see what was on the papers, since you lost interest as soon as you realised it wasn’t cash.

You don’t get to lament too much about it before the curtains are being hauled back, a brightly smiling man greeting you; the doctor appears just as exuberant and overjoyed as when he first walked in.

“Well, good news and bad news!” he chirps, tucking his clipboard under his arm. His nametag reads Dr. Lee Minhyuk, and you can’t help but think that your new friend Sera would probably be frothing at the mouth at the mere sight of him. You catch sight of Namjoon adjusting himself on the bed behind the doctor, cheeks red.

You send the doctor a probing look, knowing he is waiting for a response. He beams, delighted at your acknowledgement.

“Good news first!” the Dr. Lee clicks his heels together before shifting his stance, gesturing his arm widely to Namjoon. “His tailbone is not broken! Thanks to the uneven distribution of his ass cheeks— ahem, sorry, his buttocks— all of the force of impact was absorbed by the, uh, dominant butt cheek, if you will. His tailbone is fine!”

Namjoon chokes behind him at the words that come out, and a part of you is mortified for him but the rest of you finds that too funny to even begin unpacking everything else yet. One of his ass cheeks really pulled a hard carry and did the lord’s work and absorbed all the impact. The power… A sigh of relief escapes you at the doctor’s words, though, and you go to speak up your relief when the doctor cuts you off.

“Whoops, actually I take that back! That’s the bad news— his tailbone isn’t broken, but it is bruised.” Dr Lee clicks his tongue, taking out his clipboard to scribble something short down. He then turns to Namjoon. “I kind of have to go— since you came in through the ER but this isn’t an actual emergency— but I’ll send a nurse in with directions for you on how to manage this, and after that you’ll be free to go. I recommend not climbing any more trees for a while! Also I hope you don’t sleep on your back, that might be a bit difficult like this.”

With that, he clicks his heels once more before saluting you both, and then he’s striding out of the room, off to tend to actual emergencies, you presume. You’d gotten an earful earlier for bringing him to the ER when it wasn’t a life-or-death emergency, but you stand by your decision.

There are a few long moments of silence in the time after the doctor leaves, and you decide to break it by standing and moving to the table beside his bed, where you’d left your phone like a fool. Avoiding his face (he’s still blushing so it’s a courtesy, but also because while sitting and waiting for the doctor you’d realised he really is quite good looking and your mind is having trouble associating that with the man who fell out of the tree earlier), you reach for the phone amongst the water cups and chocolate wrappers, from when he’d emptied his front pockets. He’s a nervous drinker and a hoarder, it seems.

“Wait,” His hand shoots out, long fingers wrapping around your wrist before you can grab your phone. Your heart jumps, perhaps in fright. You look to him with wide eyes. “I’m gonna need you to sign a non-disclosure about what you just heard.”

“I…” you give him a pained look. “Please, tell me you carry them with you at all times. Please. If you don’t tell me, I really might die.”

Namjoon lets out a great, big sigh, releasing your wrist somewhat petulantly. “I don’t… please hold your tongue until I can print some more.”

More? You’re having a field day with the implication that he has had instances where he’s needed to hand out non-disclosure agreements before, but he seems a little sombre. So instead of mocking him, as per your first instinct, you decide to try and make conversation. You know the nurse is coming soon, but you would feel bad leaving him alone until then. You feel like, having carried him on your back for miles and miles, almost an hour, you’ve really gotten closer and crossed the bridge from strangers to acquaintances.

“So…” you begin, tapping your fingers against your thighs. You search for another nearby chair before grabbing it and pulling it over, flopping down. “What do you study? Where?”

You feel like a new language learner asking questions using only the limited vocab you have, but Namjoon is unphased and answers as though you’d asked him something much more natural.

“CCU,” he says, fingers picking at the threads on his blanket, before he looks up to glance at you. “I’m a music major.”

Surprise filters through you at that, a noise of wonderment escaping before you can really stop it. “Oh! Hey, me too! I think you’re in one of the years above me, though, because I haven’t seen you in any of my classes before.”

Namjoon, who had been somewhat withdrawn and had put up a wall of sorts between you since entering the hospital and regaining control of himself (and a donut cushion to sit on), seems to do an absolute one-eighty at your words. “Oh, your major is music as well? Where are you specialising?”

You tell him with an eager smile, and he responds with one of his own. Just like that, the two of you fall into a conversation that comes much easier than anticipated, talking about your majors and music inside and outside of school. The nurse takes forever and you spend a good amount of time there, just talking to this upperclassmen who happened to fall out of a tree while you were walking past. Eventually, he confides in you about a rough draft of his, something he has really high hopes for. It’s a song called Moonchild, and it’s barely half done but he drums and beat boxes the rough rhythm out for you and you feel your cheeks heat in awe as you listen. That’s amazing, you can’t help but think, and it’s all him. You don’t think you’ve ever liked the demo of a song as much as you like that one.

The afternoon passes with the nurse eventually visiting, and all too soon you’re waiting with the long-legged noodle man at the drop-off and pick-up zone, watching with a note of sadness as a car pulls up and some mint-haired twink that looks vaguely familiar sticks his head out and calls for Namjoon. Namjoon thanks you for your help and bids you farewell, and then he’s climbing into the car with an abrupt wail of pain— he forgot to put his donut down first— before the doors shut and the car is pulling away, disappearing into the dusk and leaving you by your lonesome. You stand a few minutes, before letting out a huff and turning to leave yourself.

The whole way home, and throughout the rest of the week, you can’t help but think about the beautiful tune of moonchild and how it rings serenely through your mind when your thoughts quieten just enough. You hope you get to hear it again, someday; you hope you get to hear it when it’s finally completed and Namjoon’s name is on the credits.

— • masterlist | prev | intermission iii | next • —

{let us know what u think!! who are u rooting for?? who do u think is the muse?? hit us up!! & thank u for reading, btw!}

373 notes · View notes

bixshits · 4 years

Text

Lost Odyssey - A Thousand Years of Dreams - Story Thirty-Three Transcript

Note- This dream is only available through download

An Old Soldier's Legacy

Kaim spent the entire summer surrounded by a fence that towered over him.

He was trapped in a prisoner of war camp.

It was a terrible mistake - not his but the dimwitted, cowardly commander's. Kaim was a mercenary attached to the man's regiment. They were invading the enemy's main port city when the officer miscalculated at the end and the unit's line of retreat was cut off. While the troops were prepared for an all-or-nothing charge, the commander almost casually opted for surrender.

"Don't worry," he had said to his men before they were locked up.

"Whatever happens now, the ultimate victory in this war will be ours. Instead of making a stand and dying for nothing, we'll be much better off if we just quietly let them take us as prisoners of war. We'll be liberated right away in any case."

This made perfect sense.

But the officer completely misread the feelings of an enemy on the brink of defeat.

Having survived hundreds of battles, Kaim knew better than anyone how people felt towards prisoners of war after the hated enemy had taken the lives of their friends and loved ones and torched their hometowns.

To the members of his platoon at least, as they were preparing to enter the camp, he whispered,

"You'd better forget about any rosy pictures. This could be worse than the battlefield."

His words proved all too accurate.

Life in the POW camp was bitterly harsh. Day after day, the men were forced to do backbreaking labor on a diet of scraps. The sick and injured went untreated and were not even allowed to rest. To collapse on the job was to die. Indeed, several of the prisoners died not by collapsing on the job but from brutal beatings for minor infractions.

Everyone with access to the camp - both the soldiers assigned to guard duty and ordinary citizens with business there - looked upon the prisoners with hatred in their eyes. Some guards would wave swords at them and boast, "I can kill you bastards any time I like," and certain officers slaughtered one prisoner after another, disguising the killings as accidents.

Even as they tormented the prisoners, such men were suffering the deaths of their families and friends in the war, and spending their days in fear of the coming invasion. The camp was a place ruled by hatred and revenge, but also a place shrouded in uncertainty and fear of the day when the captives would become their captors. This tense, complicated atmosphere ate away at the spirits of all, friend and foe alike.

The horror of war lay not only in the mutual killing of enemies clashing on the battlefield but even more so in places such as this that were far from the front lines.

Kaim knew this with every bone in his body.

A month passed after the platoon entered the POW camp.

The enemy troops were thoroughly exhausted.

THe fall of the capital was said to be imminent.

In spite or because of that, life in the camp was worse than ever.

The tasks assigned the prisoners were even crueler than before, and their diet, which was meager enough to begin with, fell below the level needed to sustain life.

The military guards bullied the prisoners as if for their own amusement, wounding them, and mistreating them with fatal consequences. All kinds of civilians did their part, too, hurling human waste over the fence into the camp. And even if secret stashes of food might be left for them, none of the prisoners dared eat them for fear they might be poisoned.

Hatred climbed to unseen heights.

To one prisoner who moaned "Why are you doing this to us?"

a guard spat out the answer, "It's just what your country is doing to us."

And it was true.

All the young men of the enemy country were being sent into battle, where most of them were being killed. Whole towns had been burned down and transformed into rubble.

While the soliders assigned to guard duty knew that defeat in the war itself was certain, they continued to be victors where the POWs were concerned.

And while the captured soldiers believed in the victory of their fatherland and waited for the day when their comrades would resuce them, they continued to be vanquished among victors.

The moans of the POWs could be heard throughout the camp:

"When is the war going to end?"

"The war doesn't have to end. Just let them get us out of here!"

"Have we been abandoned by the fatherland?"

Kaim kept offering the same advice to them again and again:

"Be patient," he would say, "Don't give up hope."

Kaim knew everything there was to know about war, and so he realized what was happening now. The fatherland's supreme commanders were trying to bring down the capital first and leaving the fall of this military port city for later. The POWs had, in fact, been abandoned.

The commander in chief would no doubts say, "For the sake of a great victory, we cannot let ourselves be concerned by a small set back."

And he would be right.

But precisely because he would be right, Kaim could not convey this to the prisoners, who firmly believed that their side was trying their best to rescue them.

One POW after another made plans to escape, and for every one of those there was an informant who exposed his plan to the guards.

Both types of prisoner had the same thing in mind: to save himself alone. No one could be trusted. THere were even some "informants" who made up phony escape stories about perfectly innocent men just to put themselves in a little better position with the guards. The only thing awaiting such traitors when the war finally ended would be the revenge of their comrades. As much as they understood this, all they could do was ingratiate themselves with the guards so as to secure their momentary safety.

The fence was not the only thing surrounding the POWs. It was not just their bodies but their minds that had been taken captive. In addition to the ones who died from illness and injury were increasing numbers of those who ended their own lives after a period of mental suffering.

Be patient.

Don't give up hope.

Kaim's word gradually ceased to make an impression on anyone.

After the men had been prisoners of war for two months, a new guard took charge of Kaim's barrack.

In place of the young warrior who had been guarding them came an old soldier.

His name was Jemii.

When he introduced himself to the men, he remarked with a grim smile,

"Things must be getting pretty desperate if they're calling up an old goat like me."

The young guard had been sent to the front lines. This probably meant that the battle for the capital had entered its final phase.

"I tell you, this war is almost over. In another month, you young fellows will be on the other side of the fence, and we'll be locked in here. Our positions will be completely reversed."

Jemii needed no prompting from the POWs, and his vocie contained none of the hate-filled agitation of the young guard's.

"All you fellows have to do is hang in there a little longer, be patient, and not give up hope."

His words were almost identical to Kaim's, which meant that Jemii, like Kaim, had experienced many a battle over the years.

"We may be in different positions, but deep down we're the same. You men are unarmed prisoners, and we'll be under your control as soon as you come to occupy the country. I'm what you will be tomorrow, and you're what I will be tomorrow. I don't know how long we're going to go on like this, but if you stop and think about it, isn't it stupid for us to keep hating each other and snarling at each other? Let's at least try to get along."

He twisted his wrinkled face into a big grin and laughed aloud.

His smile deeply affect the mentally and physically exhausted men.

Before they knew it, they were smiling, too. THis was the first carefree smile that any of them had managed since their capture, or, rather, since their time on the battlefield.

Jemii's kindness was not limited to words. Of course, the change of a single guard was not enough to substantially improve the prisoners' treatment. The hard labor and meager food were the same as before. But Jemii would speak to them with real feeling.

"Sorry for working you so hard, but there aren't any young men left in this town to do the muscle work. We're not making you do these jobs to punish or discipline you but because the town needs your help with these constructing projects."

"I'm sorry we can't give you anything decent to eat. I really am. But everybody outside the fence is starving, too. We're all in this together, so try to put up with it."

Jemii would try to order somewhat easier jobs for prisoners who had taken ill, and he would sneak them extra food. THat is the kind of guard he was.

The prisoners started calling him "Uncle Jemii," and would even joke around with him sometimes.

"We'd be way better off if the other guards were like you, Uncle Jemii,"

said one prisoner, to which Jemii nodded sadly.

"I'll tell you what, Uncle Jemii," said another prisoner. "If I had known that there were people like you in this country, I never would have volunteered. I'm not forgetting my place as a POW, but let me shake your hand once."

Jemii allowed himself the faintest of smiles at this and gave the man his hand.

"You know something, Kaim..." Jemii said, sitting down beside Kaim during a break in the heavy lifting.

It was a clear, beautiful day, but the sunlight pouring down on them had lost its midsummer glare. The season was shifting to autumn.

"I'd say you're a little different from these other young prisoners."

"Am I?"

"I know you've seen your share of battles. I can smell it on you."

Kaim's only reply to Jemii was a strained smile. Jemii seemed to have known what Kaim's response to his remark would be, and he wore the same kind of smile as he carried on the conversation.

"Why haven't you escaped?" It would be easy for a man like you to break through the flimsy security they have here."

"You give me too much credit."

"You could make it by yourself, but taking everybody with you would be tough. Is that why you stayed?"

Kaim gave him another strained smile, saying nothing.

Jemii was right. If he decided to escape on his own, it would be easy for him to climb over the fence. If, however, he manged to gain his freedom, the prisoners he left behind would be punished or, at the very least, would have to live with increasingly harsh security measures. The young soldiers abandoned in the camp would feel only despair.

If he was going to escape, it would have to mean getting everyone over the fence. Most of the others, however, were so wasted away that they were beginning to lose even the strength to go on living. Men like that could only be a drag on his own flight to freedom.

"You're a kind-hearted fellow, aren't you?" Jemii said.

"And you're a smart one, too, I'll bet."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Any soldier with as much experience as you has already seen the handwriting on the wall. The war is over. Another three days, maybe a week, and our side is going to announce a total surrender. Right now, we're just making our last stand out of sheer stubbornness. The second the war ends, you prisoners will go free, and we'll take your place."

"Yes. And?"

"It'll just be a little longer. Really, all you have to do is hold on a little longer. You must know that as well as I do. So you're probably not even thinking of making the effort to escape."

When Kaim nodded, Jemii smiled and said, "That's fine. I'm just as fed up as you are with all the pointless fighting and hatred."

He looked up at the autumn sky, his profile marked by a number of deep wrinkles. On closer inspection, Kaim realized that some of those wrinkles were scars left by sword cuts.

"Let me tell you something, Kaim."

"All right."

"Our country doesn't have the strength left to make it through another hard winter. I knew that when summer was still here."

"I see..."

"I just wish we had given up sooner. Then there wouldn't have been so many young men killed in battle, and so many towns burned."

Jemii released a deep sigh and added, "When this war is over, we're going to have to do whatever your country tells us to do. We can't complain if we're enslaved or tortured to death by the young men who are now our prisoners of war."

Kaim could not assure him that would never happen.

As a mercenary, he would just go off seeking new employment when this war ended, but this was not true of the other prisoners of war. As the conquerors, they would now have peace. They would return to the lives they led before. But how many among them would be able to treat the vanquished people with kindness and respect?

"I think you'll know what I mean, Kaim, when I say you can be as cruel as you like to us old folks when the fighting ends, but please, I'm begging you, be decent to the young men and to the women and to the children. Don't do anything to them that will make them hate your country. Otherwise, there'll just be another war sometime in the future. Ten years, twenty years, thirty years, maybe even a hundred years from now. I don't want any more of this. Countries fighting each other, people hating each other..."

It happened that very moment.

The violent ringing of a bell began to echo throughout the camp. It was the bell in the watchtower, signaling an emergency meeting of the guards.

"Oh, well, gotta go," Jemii said, standing up. "Don't bother going back to work right away. Tell the other fellows everybody can have a little break."

He took a few steps before turning to say to Kaim with a smile, "You know, if we weren't enemies, I would've liked to have a drink with you sometime."

That was the last Kaim saw of Jemii as a guard.

The sun was overhead when Jemii left, but he did not come back even after it had begun sinking in the west.

The next time someone came into the enclosure it was to the cheers of the POWs welcoming the arrival of their countrymen.

"You're going to be all right now, men! The war is over!

It's a huge victory for our side!"

Jemii's country had agreed to a total surrender.

The guards assembled in the tower were stripped of their weapons, and anyone who resisted was killed on the spot.

"Get a move on there! Hurry up!"

The soldiers who, until a short time ago, had ruled the camp were herded into the enclosure with whips and under the threat of drawn swords.

The POWs, who until only moments ago had been under their rule, now lined up to stare at their former guards, and before anyone knew it, the guards were being cursed and stoned.

Hands tied, the soldiers could not ward off the stones, and before long they were drenched in blood.

Jemii was among them.

He started at Kaim, blood gushing from his forehead. His eyes showed no hatred or resentment. He simply gave Kaim a little nod, looking straight at him as if to say, "Remember what I asked you to do."

Kaim shouted to the men surrounding these new prisoners,

"Stop it! Stop it! They've surrendered! Leave them alone!"

But, liberated from the fear of death and from days of humiliation, his young comrades, wild-eyed and screaming like animals, went on stoning their former guards.

"Can't you see who this is? It's Uncle Jemii! Stop it!"

One of the soldiers gave him a contemptuous snort and all but spit out the words, "The old bastard was just sucking up to us for when our side won."

Another soldier - the young man who had asked to shake Jemii's hand that day - shouted, "He might act like a good guy, but an enemy's an enemy! And besides, he's just some old geezer from a country we pounded into the dirt." He threw another stone at Jemii.

Kaim's shouts did no good. He started grabbing hands that were readying to hurl stones and smashing people in the face, but no one would listen to him.

The commander of the troops that had galloped to the rescue just grinned and said, "Good! Good! Get it out of your system!" and he handed swords to the unarmed men.

"Kill them all, and raise some victory cries while you're at it! Think of the humilation you endured as prisoners. Now's the time to get even!"

"No, stop it!" Kaim shouted. "The war is over!"

"Wait, I know you. You're a mercenary.

You're just spouting a lot of nonsense. A few good sword thrusts could shut that mouth of yours!"

The commander's aides took this as a signal to surround Kaim.

"Don't waste your time on him, men! Warriors of our beloved fatherland! Kill these soldiers first, and then we can attack the town. Set fires! Take the women! We won this war! This town, this country, everything belongs to us now!"

The commander laughed aloud, but in the next moment, his smile turned into a grimace. His aides were falling to the ground. Kaim had grabbed a sword from one of them, and now it flashed in his hand.

"Traitor! Somebody take him down!"

Kaim swung around and started for Jemii.

But it was too late.

The soldiers were already slashing wildly at the former guards, who had no means to defend themselves.

Standing amid the hellish scene of human butchery, Kaim saw it happen.

The old soldier, who had been kind because he knew all too well the link between war and hatred, fell to the ground without uttering a word, a hateful blade thrust into his back.

Kaim made a break for the camp gate.

He ran for all he was worth, a soundless roar reverberating inside him.

Why did people have to hate each other so?

Why did people have to fight each other so?

And why was it impossible for people to stop fighting and stop hating?

He did not know the answers to these questions.

Saddened and frustrated by his own incomprehension, Kaim ran at full speed through the rubble of the town.

A hundred years pass by.

"This is it, Kaim," the commander says with a smile. "I am enormously grateful for the magnificent job you've done. You can name your own reward when this war is over."

The last great offensive is about to begin.

This should bring the war to a close.

It has taken a hundred years.

After all these long, long years as a vassal state, the country that lost the war the year Kaim was a prisoner has raised its banner against the ruling power under which it endured such suffering in the last war.

The defeated country has spent a hundred years nurturing its hatred for the ruling power, passing the hatred down from parent to child to grandchild. The country that won the war a hundred years ago was too filled with a ruler's arrogance and insensitivity to notice what was happening. The only things that it has handed down from parent to child to grandchild are the scorn and contempt for the "inferior country" under its sway.

This war ends with almost disappointing ease.

The results are the exact opposite of the war a hundred years earlier.

No one knows on which side the goddess of victory will smile if yet another war occurs a hundred years from now.

"All right, Kaim, name your reward."

Kaim answers the commander's question softly: "I don't need a thing."

"Why not? It's true that you're a mercenary, but you far outdid the regular troops. Our country wants to show its appreciation for your efforts."

"If that's how you really feel, I'd like you to promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"Don't make your enemy hate you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about treating the people of the defeated country with kindness and respect."

A shocked expression on his face, the commander laughs and says,

"Aren't you the softhearted one!"

Kaim, however, is deadly serious.

"This is the legacy an old man from your own country left me a hundred years ago."

"Enough," says the commander, still looking shocked. "Dismissed."

Kaim himself has no hope that Jemii's legacy will be fulfilled. The hundred-year journey he has taken since that fateful day in the camp has shown him only the selfishness and stupidity of the human race. It will be the same from here on out as well. Indeed, nothing has changed since long before he met Jemii.

And yet.

Back at his post, Kaim grips his sword and holds his breath.

It will change someday.

They will see someday.

I want to believe that.

Unless I believe it, I can't go on with my endless journey.

You know what I mean, don't you, Uncle Jemii?

Eyes closed, he can see Jemii's face smiling sadly.

The order goes out to the entire assembled force: "Charge!"

Within the rising clouds of dust, Kaim grips his sword and starts to run.

#lost odyssey #a thousand years of dreams #1000 years of dreams #kaim argonar #seth balmore #jansen friedh #ming numara #sarah sisulart #cooke and mack #cooke #mack

3 notes · View notes

sonodaten · 4 years

Text

Impressions for Book IV!

I know we’re only two chapters in, but this is the first book I’ve actually been present for the release for, so the hype and theorizing are REAL. Spoilers (I guess? Again, only two chapters in) under cut. Sorry for mobile readers if this doesn’t work bc this shit is LONG.

No-context summary: Can You Tell I Was Really Into Inception When It First Came Out?

Okay, so I know some people aren’t happy about it, but I’m vibing with the whole fairies aesthetic. Especially BC of the whiplash it has re:Book III. I think it’s kinda meant to lure you into a false sense of security/draw your eyes towards the obvious danger—the Nightmares, in this case—so you ignore the less obvious one, which to me, would be Ljósálfheimr itself, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

So, we start out with a sleeping sickness in Askr and the Order of Heroes is sent to investigate, and Henriette gives the team a Censer to protect them (why a Censer and incense when it was obviously something magical and not airborne, I suppose, will become obvious later when the Censer is revealed to be some sort of Deus Ex Machina to get the Heroes out of a pinch when they need it). They get there, they fall asleep, they have a nightmare, Peony saves them, but Alfonso, Sharena, and Anna (Eír and Fjorm whomst? Don’t know them.) are separated from the Summoner, and Peony suggests going to Dream-King Freyr to find them. While en route, Sharena expresses the she remembers Peony and that there was something important about her, but she can’t remember exactly what, and Peony explains (albeit nervously) that this is because all children play with Ljósálfar when they dream, so she may be remembering that time they spent together, and Sharena accepts this explanation. Along the way they meet the first of the Nightmares, Triandra. After defeating her, Peony tells them they have to enter a dream within a dream in order to meet Freyr, and though Alfonse is slightly suspicious, they agree. After they are all asleep, Peony remarks that they all trust her, and now she must do something to earn that trust. I think Alfonse was right to be suspicious, but not because it might have been a trap or anything like that, but because of the inherent dangers of a place like Ljósálfheim in general.

First, entering a dream within a dream? I’ve seen Inception, there’s no fucking way that ends well. Second, where have we seen that before? In the Book IV trailer, we see a repeated sequence at the very end of Alfonse waking up and seeing Peony waiting for him, echoing the opening scene of the cinematic. To me, what this could be hinting at is the future conflict of the book: the heroes, trapped within a never-ending cycle of dreams, unable to tell where one ends and the other begins—one they may very well already be stuck in! If the Heroes are already trapped in a dream cycle, this may not be their first run; they could have been through it possibly a dozen times by now. Sharena has already spoken of remembering Peony, and it may very well be because she has met Peony before in this very scenario and is recalling those other meetings! Now, I don’t think Peony is necessarily evil, so why would she be doing this?

I think it was the Nightmares who struck first, feeding off the fears and worries of the people of Askr. They just lost their King and are still recovering from Hel’s invasion, and I’m assuming are still under the threat of regular invasion from Embla, so safe to say, a lot of people are probably scared and worried, especially those furthest from the castle and Order of Heroes’ protection, like those in the village first ailed by the sleeping sickness. And I think when the Ljósálfar come, they have good intentions. A lot of Peony’s dialogue (in the home screen, combat, etc) mentions wanting to take away mortals’ fears and worries by wrapping them up in a nice, cushy dream, like a warm blanket to keep them safe. Whether this is specific to Peony, or extends to all Ljósálfar, we don’t know yet; we haven’t met any others. I think in order to alleviate the Nightmares and alleviate the worry plaguing the Askr citizens, the Ljósálfar are trapping them deeper and deeper within happy dreams, and thus, dragging them deeper and deeper into Ljósálfheimr. Why so deep? Well, normally, they work with children, right? Children’s fears are much easier to alleviate than an adult’s, so to properly soothe the adult villagers, they need to be pulled under more and more layers of dreams in order to forget what’s worrying them.

Remember when I mentioned that Ljósálfheimr might become the less obvious danger in this book? It’s quite literally a dream land—anything you want can be a reality, and your wildest wishes can come true as long as you believe hard enough. It’s amazing, literally a dream come true! Why? Would? You? Ever? Leave? Would you even realize you were trapped in a dream? If you did, would you want to go back? To your king-less lands ravaged by war, with the constant threat of more? To an Order of Heroes who can only react, never prevent? To a Prince who would rather play hero and war than rule over his people? To a Princess who was never even given a chance at the throne? Should they leave? Would you? You can say all you want that you don’t like the look the book is going for, but we knew instantly that the Realm of Hel was dangerous; Ljósálfheimr only wants you to think that it’s innocent when it’s insidiousness bubbles just beneath the surface and I, personally, find that all the more fascinating. Your mind, free to wander in pure, blissful ignorance while your body wastes away into nothingness in the real world.

But how did the Nightmares know to come to Askr? Fucking Loki. Why? To further her Meta Goal. Whatever the fuck that is. Next question.

Where is the Summoner? This could . . . go many different ways, to be honest. I’d be happy to see it go anyway. One option is that the Summoner is trapped by the Nightmares and separated somewhere else in the dream, captured by the enemy and must learn to harness the power of the dream (through the Censer??? Maybe somehow being a part of Breidablik) and free themselves and reunite with their friends, which will break the dream cycle (probably by finally appearing when Alfonse wishes for them?) and allow them to finally create a scenario to escape. OR, and here’s one I like the most the more I think about it: the Summoner didn’t appear when Alfonse wished for them (bc let’s be real: Alfonse may be a bit of a stick in the mud sometimes, but he cares deeply about his friends, and if he wished for the Summoner to be reunited with them, then goddamnit, IT WAS GONNA COME FROM THE BOTTOM OF HIS HEART) bc they are all trapped in a cycle within the Summoner’s dream.

Peony just says that it’s a dream, so wishes can come true, but she never specifies whose dream it is. If there were something preventing the Summoner from entering/being pulled into Ljósálfheimr like the others (Censer combined with Breidablik, maybe? or just the fact that the Summoner is from a different world entirely?), it would make sense that Alfonse couldn’t interact with a dreamscape that wasn’t his own and that the Summoner wasn’t with them, and make it easier to trap them in a dream cycle (as you can see, I’m hinging a lot on this dream cycle theory). I just think it would be cool to see some Summoner Solo-Badassery and have them come to the Heroes rescue. I know they are a squishy tactician, but just once, please. I just think it would be a fun and sexy time for the Summoner and everyone else involved.

And then there’s the Nightmares. Specifically, we may get to see the Heroes facing off against their own, personal Nightmares. Anna’s nightmare? Being penniless, obviously, but deeper than that—having to cut back on important resources and items for the Order of Heroes, and it results in catastrophe, failing not only her fellow soldiers, but the citizens of Askr that she swore to protect. Alfonse? Dealing with the grief of losing his father, having to choose between protecting his people in the Order of Heroes or guiding them as their King, and choosing wrong; having to choose between saving Zacharias or killing him and protecting his people. Sharena? Also dealing with the loss of her father, but now faced with a whole new monster that is the renewed terror of what could happen if she loses Alfonse, the only other member of her family that (in my opinion) really cares for her; losing all her friends and ending up alone. And the Summoner? After seeing everything they have, what would be worse than having to go back to their own world, powerless, slowly forgetting their friends? So much potential there for development with each one, and I really hope they do something with it.

I think in the end Peony and the Ljósálfar have good intentions, but their methods are heavy-handed and dangerous, maybe even downright lethal to the people they’re trying to help (especially if an Emblian invasion were to come along while they were asleep and defenseless). In the end, I think this Book has a TON of potential. Sure, maybe it doesn’t feel “Fire Emblem” at first, but like the bones are there jfc at least wait until a couple of chapters are out until we can know, you know? And really, in a world that has elves, magic, dragons, people who can turn into dragons, people who can turn into birds, people who can turn into wolves, kitsune, whatever the fuck Caingheis is, you’re gonna tell me that . . . fairies is too far of a stretch? Okay.

#fire emblem: heroes #feh #daten plays fe:h

3 notes · View notes

simkjrs · 7 years

Text

Anonymous submitted: Hi, I really love everything you’ve drawn and written and I saw that you tagged a post in your MSA stuff about wanting to see the second chapter from an outsider’s point of view and I wanted to see that too so here it is???

—

Kirishima was ready to start checking under couch cushions for the mysterious intruder who had turned out the lights when Aizawa-sensei suddenly lit up the comm with his exasperated cursing.

“What happened Eraserhead?” the voice of one of the pro heroes came crackling into Kirishima’s ear, the tenseness in his voice recognizable to the young hero even through the static.

“He was here,” Eraserhead states in a frustrated tone, “We missed him.”

“What? How do you know?”

“… He wrote ‘toodles’ on my desk.”

Kirishima couldn’t believe it, “There’s no way he could get in here! We’ve checked every room in the complex.”

“Well, apparently we should have searched the closets as well.”

Another voice broke into the comms, “The paint around the building has started to glow!”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure!”

“That doesn’t matter for now,” Eraserhead cut in, “Our first priority is to find the one who painted it in the first place. He might still be close by, spread out and try to find him outside.”

Kirishima was already heading for the exit, “You got it sensei!”

Determination fills Kirishima down to the bone as he darts out into the street.

…

It only takes a block or so of running when Kirishima realizes that he has, in fact, no real idea of where he is trying to look and begins to slow his roll. If someone is slippery enough to sneak into a closet within a complex guarded by cameras, traps, and pro heroes, surely they’re smart enough to hide where they can’t be seen by any kid with a provisional license running around in the streets. Kirishima– no – Red Riot has to think about this like a real hero. He can’t just let the only lead to the Eight Precepts fall through the heroes’ grasps once again. Red Riot needs not only to be quick to catch the slippery possible informant but cautious as well. His fellow heroes are counting on him, and even more than them, that little girl is counting on him too. After all, he can’t let down a kid who needs saving, how un-manly would that be?

To maximize his speed, Red Riot makes sure to keep his skin unhardened as he methodically checks every alleyway as he made his way down the next couple blocks.

However, as he turns the corner on the fifth block or so, he is surprised to see the back of a hunched over figure just crouching on the side of a street. Skidding to a stop, Red Riot analyzes the figure further, and he notices that they are positioned in the middle of a glowing circle. Is this what the other hero on the comm had been talking about? He tries to recall what the circle around the complex looked like when he dashed outside.

But before he could match up the shifting symbols within the glowing ring with anything he saw before, they begin to dissipate before his very eyes, flaking away and dissolving into the air. The whole scene is strangely beautiful, but as Kirishima stands, momentarily fascinated by the way the glowing flecks seem to dance in the air, the hooded figure begins to stand.

They turn towards the center of the street, and Kirishima sees the profile of a masked face.

Okay, he thinks to himself, that person is definitely up to something. They’re wearing a mask in the middle of the night doing weird shit with glowing circles. That may not be our guy, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask 'em a few questions, would it?

The figure begins to reach out for something, moving and almost floating in the air as if attempting to mount something.

Does he have an invisible motorcycle or something? He wonders for a moment, but Kirishima’s thoughts don’t go any further than that as he charges forward.

“Wait!” he yells.

The figure flinches back as if shoved over, spinning around to face Red Riot as he hurries down the street. Kirishima only catches a flash of wide, green eyes, before the masked figure begins to bolt.

“Hey, hang on –!” Red Riot shouts as his feet pound on the pavement even harder with every step propelling him to the furthest of his ability. They are super definitely up to something. Why would they be fleeing at such a pace if they didn’t fear getting caught for something?

The figure doesn’t look back at him once, instead taking a sharp turn into an alleyway that Kirishima knows leads to a dead end fence. However, this knowledge does not stop the figure from apparently VAULTING OVER said fence as soon as Red Riot turns the corner.

Well if the fence doesn’t stop them, then it won’t stop me either!

Giving himself barely a second for his surprise, Red Riot launches himself at the fence, scrambling over it to continue his hot pursuit, though at a significantly further distance.

As Kirishima chases to catch up, another message comes in through the comms, “Has anyone had any luck yet?” asks the frustrated voice.

A few negative reports come in before Kirishima can reach for his ear piece.

“I’m in hot pursuit of a suspect right now,” the young hero informs through his running-strained breathing, “A masked figure seen in the center of a circle much like the one reported around the base!”

“Where are you?” Eraserhead’s voice demands in his ear.

While Red Riot reports his location, the running form ahead of him takes even sharper turns, does even wilder stunts, and tries every darn thing possible to get Red Riot off of their tail. However, despite all of the flashy maneuvering, Kirishima begins to notice their movements are getting sluggish, and the sound of the suspect’s heavy breaths carry through the air even with the increased distance.

They’re getting tired, he thinks, processing this observation into a new plan.

Red Riot slows down a bit, trying to recall the paths of the street the running suspect could turn through. The next time they turn right, he turns into the alleyway before the suspect’s chosen escape route, knowing that they lead to the same narrow street.

“Gotcha!"Red Riot yells as he turns to find the masked figure leaning on a wall right next to him. He tackles them to the ground just as they spin around to face him.

The impact tears away the garments covering the suspect’s face. Kirishima is surprised to find that the mask hid the face of a young man, about his own age, but before Red Riot has any time to begin analyzing the features further, the kid begins to yell and thrash about. Red Riot is about to tell him he means no harm when the boy attempts to head-butt him.

Red Riot hardens his forehead just in time to avoid any jarring damage, but the same can not be said of the kid beneath him as he ricochets the back of his head straight into the hard, concrete street below. Oh God, he’s bleeding.

"Hey, are you okay?” Kirishima asks in concern as he relaxes his grip on the injured boy’s arms.

“Just peachy,” the boy beneath him snarls.

“Er, yeah,” suddenly feeling guilty for just pinning the kid like this for seemingly little reason, Kirishima apologizes “Sorry about all this, but–”

And then, the kid frickin’ bites him. He bites right through Red Riot’s rock hard skin, and damn does that hurt.

Making a shamefully unmanly sound out of a mixture of pain and surprise, Kirishima retracts his arm in reflex.

Red Riot is about to ask how the hell the kid did that when he is suddenly pushed off of the boy. However, he only makes it a few steps away before Red Riot tackles him once more, pinning him from the back this time and twisting his arms harshly. This time, the suspect lets out a little gasp of pain before he stops struggling.

“Hey, Calm down,” Red Riot pleads in annoyance, why was he making this so difficult? “I’m not gonna hurt you! I just want to talk.”

“Oh, sure, you just want to talk,” the kid talks fast, like every word he utters is a blade he’s desperately aiming at Red Riot. “That’d be more believable if you didn’t set a trap for me.”

“Wha– you knew?”

“Right, because it’s so hard to notice all the patrols and traps and cameras–”

“Are you kidding me? We tried so hard to make sure no one would notice!”

“Well, try harder next time!”

Kirishima’s brain was going a mile a minute trying to process all of this new information, “What kind of logic is that?” he asked, “– and if you knew it was a trap, why did you come?”

“Because I love waking up at two in the morning to go traipsing across the city and help some ungrateful pro hero who decided it was a good idea to risk losing his Quirk – obviously it’s the fucking delight of my life –”

“We’re not ungrateful! We just wanted to get into contact with you! We’re trying to–”

“No thanks,” the boy replies instantly.

“Aw, come on!” frustrated, Kirishima complains, “You didn’t even hear me out!”

“Sure, I’ll hear you out when you aren’t – fucking – pinning me to the ground,” the boy’s words have a bite to them sharper than his teeth, “Let’s have a rational conversation when you’re grinding my face into the gravel – I sure do love a five star meal of coercion with a side dish of pain–”

Kirishima’s perception of the situation takes a sudden flip as he sees the situation through the boy’s eyes, “I’m not trying to coerce you,” he exclaims in shock.

“Then get off me.”

Kirishima actually takes this into consideration.

“Promise not to run again?” He cautiously questions.

“It’s my free rights as a citizen,” the boy declares,“ And if I’m not being detained or arrested then I have every right to run – and if I am being detained, why wouldn’t I run –”

Kirishima thinks of the stakes, he thinks of the little girl they’re trying to save. Surely if he knew what was on the line, this kid would want to help.

“Please,” Kirishima asks, “We just need some information.”

“Why are you even putting up a pretense of negotiation,” the boy snarls, “We all know who has the upper hand here.”

“Pretense of…”

Kirishima thinks about that for a bit. He knows that he’s not just throwing his weight around or anything. His motives are in the right place. He’s a hero, he knows he is. Red Riot is trying to save an innocent little girl. Though, he notes, right now I am pinning down a possibly just as innocent teenage boy who is bleeding profusely and probably has a concussion. Is that manly behavior?

Now, less sure of himself, Red Riot continues uncertainly, “Let’s just – go to the heroes. They’ll know how to explain it better.”

“No,” The force of the boy’s response is so vehement and strong that Red Riot stiffens. The thrashing boy takes the moment of hesitance throw Red Riot off once more, scrambling away. Red Riot tackles him once more, knocking him down on his back for the second time. The look on the boy’s face is desperate and wild, but Kirishima notices that it is edged with signs of utter fatigue that are so obvious that it was surprising that the kid could muster the energy to walk, let alone escape several times over from Red Riot’s grasp.

“Look,” the boy pants, licking his lips, “If you let me go right now, I’ll answer three of your questions truthfully. If you arrest me, I swear to every spirit I know I’ll fill your audio transcripts with every single bit of bullshittery I can pull.”

What is he, a genie or something? Being some sort of mythical spirit might explain how little the kid seems to care for his physical form. Disregarding the distracting thought, Kirishima takes the boy’s offer into consideration. The heroes will be here soon, he reasons, I can tackle him again if he tries to run away, and he might actually talk to me if I comply. He might even come without more of a fight when he hears our reasons if I can just talk to him about it.

“And you have to listen to our request.” Red Riot adds to his side of the bargain.

“For one minute, and once that time is up, you won’t try and stop me from leaving again.”

Kirishima frowns, “Five minutes.”

“Three, and within that time you ask your questions.”

Damn does Kirishima hope he doesn’t regret this later. He needs reassurance, something no man could doubt.

“You promise?”

The boy beneath him looks at Red Riot incredulously, “Seriously?”

Nothing is worth more to a real man than keeping his word, Kirishima thinks to himself as he looks for a response in the boy’s eyes.

After meeting Red Riot’s gaze, the boy looks resigned, “I promise to uphold the terms of this deal if you do,” he states sounding like he’s accepted his fate as inevitable.

That binding finality and resignation in the boy’s expression leads Kirishima to trust his word.

Red Riot nods, “Okay.”

He stands up and the boy immediately scrambles away from him. Red Riot tenses at the frantic movements, readying himself to leap into action once again if necessary.

“Well?” The boy starts cleaning himself up, wiping away the blood on his face and pulling his hood back up to hide in, “What do you want to know?”

“You’ll really answer?”

The boy sighs as if Kirishima’s caution is tiring, “I promised, didn’t I? Hurry up. Clock’s ticking.”

“Okay, got it. Wow. you really don’t mess around.” Kirishima scratches his head, how should he frame their situation? “This is a lot of pressure to put on someone on the spot, you know? Uh… Me and the hero agencies I’m workin’ with – we’re trying to hunt down the Eight Precepts of Death, since they’re responsible for the Quirk-breaking drugs and all. There’s a girl we need to save to do that, but we can’t find any information on where she is. We need that info, and we were hoping you could provide that.” Kirishima looks at the boy full of hope, surely he could find some way to understand? Wouldn’t anyone help if they could?

“You are picking the worst possible person to help you, ever,” the boy mutters matter-o-factly.

“Not true! You’re pretty fast, dude, and whatever you’re doing to fix people’s Quirks is really useful,” Kirishima protests insistently.

“You would think that,” the boy states, “Where do you even get the idea that I know anything about this? I’m not the right person to ask.”

“You somehow managed to find where we set up the trap,” Kirishima reasons, “You’re getting your information somehow. And you decided to help, even knowing that this was a trap.”

That’s pretty manly, Kirishima comments to himself.

“Sure, under duress,” the boy snorts at him, looking away.

Kirishima frowns, “Are you being forced to do this?” Concern floods into his mind once more, “We can help you! We’re heroes; it’s our job to protect people.”

Turning back to him, the boy just looks at Red Riot for a moment.

“Thanks,” His tone is minutely softer than before as if it lost some of its biting edge, though still retaining its resolve, “but even if I did need help you wouldn’t be able to help me. I also can’t help you, despite what you think. Ask your questions.”

What does he mean, despite what he thinks? He’s about to ask when he remembers that the kid only gave him three questions.

He bites his lip. Red Riot just needs to think something up to buy time for the heroes to come, right? No, no, he has a time limit. Something to track the boy down later then, “What’s your real name?”

The questioned kid stares for a moment as if surprised by Red Riot’s question. It passes quickly, followed by a startled laugh and the reply, “I don’t have one. Next.”

“What do you mean, you…” Kirishima shakes his head, he’s running out of questions and time, he should just focus on the name. “Okay, nevermind. Since you don’t have a real name, what name do other people use for you?”

“Some people call me Deku.”

Ugh okay, pretty unhelpful, Kirishima can’t think of how to get more specific on that one, and this last question should be an important one.

He runs a hand through his hair, fairly certain of what to ask next. “Do you know, or could you find out, where the Eight Precepts’ headquarters are located, currently?”

“No,” Deku replies instantly, “and possibly yes, but…” he pauses for a moment as if looking for the right words. “…I’d rather take my chances deep diving in the Pacific without any gear.”

Kirishima’s heart begins to sink, “You feel that strongly?”

“I said I’d answer truthfully,” Deku says, and Kirishima believes him. Something about the way the kid had looked for loopholes in his questions made Kirishima feel as if Deku was really dedicated to keeping his promise, even if in the loosest way possible.

Kirishima is trying to push down the sprouts of disappointment in his chest when Deku suddenly shudders, darting his head around to look over his shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” Kirishima asks, concerned by the fear in Deku’s stance. By the stiffness in his shoulders and tightness of his fists, Kirishima would’ve thought the boy had seen a ghost.

After a few more seconds of maintaining his posture, Deku lets out a sigh. “It’s fine. But remember your side of the deal. Okay?”

And like that, Deku is off like a shot. Before Red Riot can even attempt to stop him, the swift-footed boy is already dashing past him down another turn in the alleyway of an apartment complex. When he tries to turn around to chase after him, Red Riot spins around just in time to see Deku vault up onto the roof of the building and hear voices crackling in his ear. He starts running around the corner, trying to keep up with the running silhouette on the rooftop from below as he listens to Eraserhead’s voice.

"Red, we’re rapidly approaching your location, what’s your status?”

A barrage of footsteps can be heard both in the background of the comms and just down the block as the other heroes approach.

“Suspect just vaulted onto the frickin’ ROOF. I can’t get up there fast enough to catch him but I think he only has the space to jump between a couple buildings so he might come down soon.”

In an instant, a herd of heroes rushes around and ahead of Red Riot as he turns the corner towards where he thinks Deku will land. Most notably, Eraserhead is one step ahead of him, picking up the chase as soon as Deku scrambles down from the roof top.

Then, something odd happens. In the middle of seemingly sprinting for his life, Deku just freezes up all over and falls to the ground. He doesn’t tumble, and he doesn’t even try to break his fall. Deku just lands with a sickening thump against the concrete as the momentum scrapes him up the sidewalk.

“Gah! He just fell over!” Kirishima calls ahead to Eraserhead, “Did you do that? Does your quirk do that?”

His teacher just frowns as the heroes continue to march towards Deku, “I did, but my quirk shouldn’t have that kind of effect on the body.”

Just as Eraserhead approaches the unmoving lump that is Deku’s body, the boy suddenly gasps for air as if he couldn’t breathe and immediately begins to scramble away once more. Only this time, Eraserhead seizes Deku up in his weird, bandage-scarf thing before he can get steadily back on his feet. As he falls, Deku rolls over putting his arms up, and Kirishima wonders if he thinks Aizawa would really hit him while he is on the ground. Looking up at his teacher’s tired face as he stalks up to Deku’s side and grabs his wrist, for a millisecond Kirishima wonders if Eraserhead really would hit him. The irrational worry is quickly placated as the hero merely pulls out a pair of handcuffs.

“You,” Eraserhead announces, “are under arrest.”

Though the night chase’s end releases much of the tension from Kirishima’s mind, his relief is halted by the look on Deku’s face. He looks… trapped? Hopeless? Tired? There wasn’t an adjective that could really describe the sheer mix of resigned distress Kirishima saw in the kid’s eyes, only a familiar feeling. The feeling of looking at someone who wants to be saved. A hesitant guilt clutches at Kirishima’s chest as a hero passes him by, patting him on the back for work well done. Kirishima glances at the scrapes and scratches on Deku’s bleeding face, the face of a boy his own age, as he is pulled up onto his feet, leaving blood red splotches to stain the sidewalk. He remembers his promise not to arrest the boy as he begins to walks with the heroes back towards the complex. Even though Red Riot hadn’t really promised never to arrest Deku, and Eraserhead was the one to do it in the end, Kirishima doesn’t quite feel like the violent chase had really just been part of the job. It had just such a vicious feeling.

He knows he is one of them. He is a hero. He knows it. Everything they are doing is for the sake of saving people; a little girl’s life is on the line. Kirishima is a hero and he knows it, but right now, looking at a bloodied face, knowing the intent of his broken promise, and feeling conflicted about his actions…

Well, he sure as hell doesn’t feel like a man.

—

Aah ok. That’s the first fanfiction I’ve ever written all the way through, thanks a lot for inspiring me! I really love everything you’ve written and I’ve been obsessing about it since the beginning of summer break. I can’t believe this is 12 pages. aah. Sorry if some of the details or characterization is off, I’m not sure if you pictured Kirishima angsting like I did. I think later he would at least apologize for Deku’s face. Half of me writing this was looking for details on street lay outs and wondering which other heroes were on the team. I wanted to write for Aizawa too until I realized I don’t have any clue where he would be or what he’s doing?? Also first time writing in passive voice, I tried to check it over but there might be some grammar errors in that regard. Thank you so much, bye.

#IM HOLLERING #THANK YOU SO MUCH......#i feel you've done a good job with capturing kirishima's voice! it was really fun reading through his thoughts #and i loved the moment when kirishima's perspective on the situation flips! i think you did that well!#the first scene was so good. eraserhead wakes up and the first thing he does is curse into the commlinks. ideal #the description of izuku freezing up and falling over was so good!! i felt genuinely concerned when i read it #it's super cool to hear that my stuff has inspired you to try your hand at writing! i hope you keep going #the world can always use more content creators =)#dw about characterization i think you did a good job! it's a little bit off from what i have imagined but that's only because there's stuff #i hadn't revealed in chapter 2. you did awesome with the information you had #thank you for taking the time to write and share this <3 #submission #my spirit academia

310 notes · View notes

estro-gem · 4 years

Text

Black and White in Grey: Chapter 13

Author’s note: I did a thing! Read it if you please.

It’s a bit frustrating to have future chapters ready to go, but unfinished exposition to take care of to get to that point.

I’ll warn for safety: This is not for sensitive readers (emotionally). My warnings may or may not be for a little more mature reasons in the future, so yeah. There’s that...

Please enjoy!

CHAPTER 13: MOTIVES

“Lulu, I hope you’re not asleep yet! I brought cupcakes!”

The sing-song tune of the draconiquus’s voice, that was accompanied by a knock, died in an eerie silence. He had suddenly appeared in front of Princess Luna’s dorm with a tray of pastries just before calling out. He almost felt bad about possibly waking her or even bothering her while she might be getting ready for bed.

Almost, but not quite.

Discord had to keep the bigger picture in mind. Why he was creeping his way into the dark pony’s bubble she had been living in. With the goal so clearly set and with them being so close to succeeding, he didn’t care if she was busy or not.

But Luna wasn’t answering and that raised multiple flags at once.

The Lord’s thoughts raced back at the power surge he and his accomplice had felt before he had arrived. It was crooked and cold. It was powerful. It was what he was preparing for. He would never admit it, but the anticipation was nipping at his gut.

And the fact that she wasn’t answering…

He knocked again, but more insistently. His voice, however, dripped with sweet honey as he playfully called out again. “Lulu~!”

Discord knew that Luna was, ironically, a very light sleeper - she would have surely jumped by the first knock. He found out when he had tried to prank her in the past, back when he was newly reformed. Emphasis on tried. Let’s just say that he woke up every morning with his goatee dyed bright purple for a week. Granted, he could fix it every time with a snap of his claws, but the principle still served its purpose. Her persistence greatly amused him.

The deity’s sensitive ears heard slow footsteps approach the door. He took note of the heaviness of every step, as if the pony inside, was lifting an extra 20 lbs with every hoof that left the ground. Discord felt his mouth twitch at the sound.

“Discord?” the princess tiredly spoke in the most monotone voice that he had heard her speak once she opened the door a slight creek, “Why are you here?”

The Lord of Chaos couldn’t fully see the pony’s face, thanks to the darkness of the room and the mere slit of an opening the door provided. He didn’t have to see her to know that she was shattered. Her voice said it all. Whatever kept her from breaking into pieces then and there, was only barely working. He looked into her exposed eye and saw it dulled in color and brightness. Her eyes were slightly swollen, as if she had been crying. Her voice was hoarse. Did she scream at someone?

Discord’s fur bristled at the rush that washed over him. Seeing his precious little Luna like this… He could make the ground tremble beneath him.

“Princess…” the Lord’s voice dropped into a sickening purr, his eyes quickly flashing . He could only handle himself for so long, before his emotions started to tug at his power. This mare…

Luna remained oblivious to the rumbling beast before her, hiding under a cool smile.

“Discord, I’m sorry, but I’m really tired. I’m not good company, if that is what you came for.” Luna spoke, ending her words in a shaky sigh. She really hoped for him to understand that she meant no offence.

But was the last of her problems.

“Luna,” Discord said, alerting her that he was being serious by using her full name in such an ominous tone, “Let me in, Luna.”

She noticed that the smile had left his face and his paws were clear of the cupcake tray.

By Celestia…

Maybe it was the way he spoke – or the way those eyes of him was boring into hers. Maybe it was the faint glow that emitted from his eyes or his aura that almost took a solid form in itself (as hard as that may be to explain.) Maybe it was her own desperation she felt, clawing its way from the dark pit in her chest, up her throat and burning her tongue to form words with little meaning and many emotions. Maybe she was possessed. Whatever the reason…

She opened her door.

She knew that it was her choice and her choice alone. Discord had stalked his way into her dorm, barely making a sound. Luna almost didn’t notice him pass her. His ever-lowered voice startled her so suddenly after she had closed the door again.

“Speak to me, Your Majesty.”

If the dark pony had any tears left, her eyes would have welled up by now. She turned to the draconiquus and looked at him for a good minute, before meekly walking towards Discord. He didn’t move a muscle.

Before she knew it, she found herself in front of the Lord, with her head leaning against his torso, face turned to the side to mind her horn. She couldn’t speak – she couldn’t do as he said. She didn’t feel the need to. Not with him. She just wanted to be near him. Him.

Luna felt his body shift and for a moment, it felt like Discord was arching himself away from her.

‘No, please!’ she couldn’t bring herself to say out loud, ‘Don’t leave me.’

Thoughts in her head dissolved into nothing as she felt the base of his long neck brush against her face. Paws gently grasp the princess under her fore-limbs and she felt herself being lifted onto her back legs, then an inch above the tiled floor. Discord wrapped both his arms and wings around her slim body. Luna’s breath hitched as she felt warmth envelope her.

A hug.

It was almost ridiculous to think about. The infamous Lord of Chaos, former dictator of Equestria and the Princess of the Night, a ruler of Equestria and former Mistress of the Dark, Nightmare Moon… both embracing each other in a hug.

“Oh, Luna,” Discord murmured against the pony’s hair, making Luna tense momentarily before easing again, “who did this to you?”

“I…” Luna’s voice faded, but Discord didn’t dare speak. He just held onto her, listening to her breathing, before she spoke again, “I did this to myself.”

Bash!

Luna froze up. One of the many glass panels of her window burst into pieces. It wasn’t her, she would have known! She focused her eyes from her line of sight over Discord’s shoulder. It’s broken. It could only have been Discord…

He was as still as ever, calm even. There was no sign of him having reason to do so. She couldn’t she from the back of her head, though. She couldn’t see that his eyes were glowing with fury.

She read him completely wrong.

“Don’t. Lie. To. Me.” Discord said slowly in a much calmer voice than she was expecting, “I know somepony upset you. I know you – you will reflect anything rotten about somepony else onto yourself to make the real offender look better.” Bash! “Now I ask again… Who did this to you?”

Luna was speechless. She pushed away from the Lord of Chaos to look him in the eye. He allowed it, wanting to look at her as well. Once she stood herself and saw his shell cracking as her windows were, Luna took a deep breath. He made her feel so many things when she was with him.

Comfort. Anger. Nostalgia. Confusion. Surprise. Happiness and much more, but if there is one thing he could not make her feel, it’s fear.

She could never feel afraid of Discord, no matter how hard he tried.

“Discord,” she said surprisingly steadily, “I had an rough night, my sister is having a bad time. We are sisters and sisters fight. It just took its toll on me. I can handle myself. Even though I am flattered that you care in your own way, it’s my life.”

Discord sternly held her gaze. Black and white clashed.

Luna didn’t back down. Some about of time rolled by until he eased up slightly, averting his gaze and quickly repaired the windows with the snap of his claws.

Paying a visit to some know-it-all citizens that had disrespected their Princess would be nothing short of delightful for the Lord of Chaos. He had been craving some of his old mischievous fun. Followers should know their place, after all. But taking on Luna’s sister, Celestia…

He wanted to avenge Luna – especially since she seems to be really upset, but it just wasn’t his place to do anything. Not only will he meddle in family matter, he would also ruin his trust-filled relationship with a fellow noble. Any tension among them could be tragic.

Discord was stuck and he didn’t like it.

“Fine,” he mumbled and curtly crossed his fore-limbs in front of his chest, “I guess I’ll let you have this one.” He leaned down to her level as if he was trying to scold a child, “…but you will stop this self-pity right away and you will tell me what she said to upset you so much.”

“It doesn’t matter now!” Luna say with a drag. Before he could counter, she quickly added, “You’re right, however! Self-pity won’t bring me anywhere. It’s time to take matters into my own hooves.”

“By telling me what upset you so much?” Discord asked with sarcasm, yet with no real bite.

“No.” Luna firmly said, making Discord roll is eyes in defeat, “By going to the Dragon Lands. It’s time that we check things off of our chore list.”

“Is that still a problem? Sheesh, politics move slowly… unless it benefits them of course.” Discord mumbled that last part, making a tiny smile crack onto Luna’s face. He paused for a moment, “Aren’t you going to anger Celestia even more by doing this?”

“I’m not planning to make final calls without my sister. And besides…” Luna turns and slowly walks to the door, mumbling sadly to herself, “I’m used to her hating me.”

Luna jumped when she walked into Discord who was blocking the door. Damn, he was silent today, she needed to get him a bel or something…

“If you are going to do this, I’m tagging along.” The Lord stated as if it was a chore, “Somepony has to keep you from falling asleep in mid-sentence.”

“Thank y- hey, I can handle myself!” Luna chuckled dismissively.

“Too well, it seems. Discord grumbled lowly, “Well I guess that is to be expected since KK don’t consider your sleeping patterns when arranging meetings or important events… Of course, you just keep your mouth shut and swallow it all-”

“What was that?” Luna called from outside her dorm. She was already on her way, assuming Discord would follow.

He sighed calling after her, “Nothing, my dear. Nothing new.”

“Would you hurry up, Grandpa?”

“I’m coming! Sheesh!”

Next: Chapter 14

Previous: Chapter 12

Masterlist

#fanfiction #mlp #black and white in grey #chaosmoon #luna #discord #discord x luna #antagonist celestia #angst #WARNING: mature themes #slow burn

0 notes

child-of-the-nighttime-stars · 7 years

Text

★Spark★

In a location unknown, beings of every color, shape, size, and gender were gathered. In a small, musty smelling, and damp room; that was practically dark, except for a few small lights that emitted a faint purple glow. These people were trapped in this terrible room because they were prisoners. They weren't criminals, just an average citizen who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had been captured and used as leverage when the enemy needed it. Some had been in this room for nearly a year, while others had only arrived a few days before. Though everyone in that room shared the belief that there was no hope for their futures, so they all just sat in silence, squished together like sardines in a can, waiting for the embrace of the Grim Reaper.

Although there was one prisoner who found the all this silent brooding to be irritatingly maddening. A young girl who had arrived at the tiny hell hole recently. She craved for some kind of noise: Vocalized sulking, fighting, delusional plans of escape, anything really! As long as it was more than the occasionally exhausted sigh, depressed whimper or the patter of water droplets crashing into the tiny puddle located in the corner of the room. She had attempted to make conversation with her fellow inmates in days past but had no luck. The girl would only receive downhearted expressions, puffy red eyes filled with tears or an exhausted gaze that basically said, "Get lost kid, I've nothing to say." So in an attempt to stretch her sanity a bit further, or simply amuse herself, she began to sing.

"When you're rife with devastation There's a long ass explanation: You're like a puppeteer's creation Trapped inside a crystal ball

And whichever way he tilts it Know that we must be resilient We can't let them break our spirits As we sing this silly song"

All the prisoners had overheard the young girl break out in this oddly cheerful song that honestly didn't sound all that bad. And they couldn't help but look her way. Some with expressions of confusion, others with curiosity, though almost everyone was intrigued to hear more. The young girl noticed how she had caught everyone's attention, and a smile broke out on her lips.

She stood up, and as she did the tiny glow of the lights shone down on short jade colored hair making it appear to shine a lighter color. The same effect happened when the light caught a glimpse of her already pale complexion. As she stood, others took note of how short and young she was. While the others were all at least adults, she appeared to be only fifteen with a height of five feet at best. The indigo colored rags that everyone was forced to wear, were huge on the girl and were practically falling off of her. She continued with her song once she was on her feet beginning a dance with what extremely tiny room she had.

"You see: When I was a little kiddie, a broken economy practically destroyed my family So they shipped me off to the trailer homes. Said, 'Sorry kid but you're on your own' So I dug one thousand holes and cut up rugs with orphaned souls, now Memories are blurred, and their faces are obscured, but I still know the words to my song!

When your feelings drop one after another And your loved ones kill each other Listen to all the notes flutter From this airy voice that speaks

'Cause these chords are hypnotizing And the universe's harmonizing So please dear friends stop your crying And just sing along with me!"

By the end of her song many had perked up, some even wore smiles that matched the young singer, and a few were even bobbing their heads and along with her melody. They all clapped for the performance and some even wondered if she could do more. Though a young man in his early twenties with a nice build and hair the color of charcoal, who had been leaning in the eastern corner spoke up above the quiet murmuring of everyone else.

"Cute performance, and nice singing too. But what's with the lyrics? I mean that bridge to what I assume to be the chorus was.." The man tilted his head ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow in thought. "Kind of dark, to put it lightly."

Everyone quieted down and the girl stared at the man for nearly a minute before she nodded and answered.

"Yeah, I won't argue with you there. But I suppose I can share with you the reason why. You see, I wrote the song myself, and I used to sing it to a friend who'd often forget the good in life as a way to cheer them up. Though the song was also a coping mechanism for me since it helped me open up about some of my past. I sang it here because the message was simple enough, and honestly, you guys needed something cheery."

"So you went through all of that?" An older lady who sat next to her asked.

"Yes, ma'am. All started at the age of seven when my biological father lost his job and then two years later I was evicted from my house and sent to live in a tin can for the next three years of my life. All the while dealing with a bunch of other fun shit that I'm sure no one gives two craps about!" The girl finished her statement with an earnest chuckle, which had everyone in that room shocked.

Most were staring at the girl intently, wondering how she had survived this long, or if she had just snapped. Although before a silence could settle in again, the charcoal-haired man spoke once again.

"You got a name hon?" The man spoke firmly yet remained gentle and sincere. The girl felt a warm feeling of comfort wash over her when he spoke. This is how she wished her biological father acted towards her.

"Miyako. Miyako Stinheart." Miyako's eyes twinkled as she spoke her last name. She had taken on that name a few years back when a young woman who lived nearby found her hiding from her abusive parents and took her in as her own, so she absolutely adored that last name and always spoke it with pride. "How about you fine sir?"

The man opened his mouth to speak when the door slammed opened, revealing two soldiers fully armored and with weapons in hand.

"You there!" The soldier closer to the door exclaimed, pointing at the man. "Get over here, you're going to the arena."

All the prisoners looked to the man with expressions that contained various negative emotions. Miyako didn't really know what "The Arena" was, but she too felt afraid for him. The man just let out a low grunt and headed towards the guards. Miyako wished she could go with the man so he wouldn't be alone. Though she regretted it when the same guard pointed at her and ordered her to come as well.

"We're taking you to the labs to make sure you don't have anything deadly or contagious." The guard explained.

That didn't change how Miyako's heart had dropped and didn't stop her stomach from doing flips. The legs that had moved with such elegance and grace just minutes before now shook violently and threatened to collapse with every step that Miyako took.

Each guard took one of the prisoners as they stood in the doorway, and shoved them out into the hallway, before shutting the door harshly and cuffing the two's hands behind their backs. The hallway had much brighter lighting than the cell the two were just in, so it took a moment for their eyes to adjust. As they walked in silence, Miyako took in her surroundings. The lighting was now clear, though now the walls were a dark purple. The floors were smooth and like ice against Miyako's bare feet, and when she stared down she realized they were black tiles, out of what she assumed was obsidian. Her gaze then wandered over to the man walking besides her, as she began to take in his features. He was nearly a foot and a half taller than her, had a strong jawline, and cool gray eyes that reminded her of clouds before a heavy thunderstorm. He had a few tiny scars on his face that were barely noticeable, and one prominent one that was across the bridge of his nose. She wanted to ask how he had received those scars, but knew now was definitely not the right time. Her gaze then lowered to the clothes he wore. His uniform was far more torn and tattered than hers and covered in crimson stains. Miyako could assume that those stains were blood, but whether it was his or someone elses, she didn't know and frankly. she didn't want to. If she hadn't just been talking to and joking with this man, she would've been intimidated by him, if not fully fearful of this man. She then returned her stare upwards, only to find him looking at her.

Miyako's eyes widened in a panic, as she began to wonder what he was thinking about her this very second. The man noticed Miyako's sudden distress and gave her a small smile as if telling her not to worry. Miyako subtly nodded, calmed down, and returned the smile.

They continued to walk for a few minutes before one of the guards grabbed Miyako and roughly twisted her in a new direction.

"Come on, the labs are this way." The soldier ordered in a gruff voice, much different than the other one who spoke before.

Miyako's whole being was enveloped in fear, as she took one last glance at her companion while being taken away. The man simply nodded and gave her one more comforting look as if to tell her,

"Go on, don't worry. We'll see each other and talk again soon I promise."

As Miyako was escorted away, she kept the man's look engraved into her mind. She involuntarily swallowed, though it felt like her heart had moved up to and into her throat since it was so hard. As she and the guard approached a door that with a sign reading, "Medical Labs" Miyako silently prayed for her safety and the safety of the man, and just hoped they would both make it out of all this alive...

9 notes · View notes

featherwriter · 7 years

Text

Fandom: Destiny Point of View: 3rd Person Past Tense, Female Warlock Characters: Sylvanni Duv (Female Awoken Warlock Guardian), Brother Vance, Osiris Rating: SFW Chapters: 1 - Complete Words: 4,426 Warnings: Spoilers for Destiny 2 story campaign

Read On AO3 // Read on FF.net

Life begins to return to normalcy in the Last City after Ghaul’s invasion. When a fellow Warlock offers to purchase a bowl of noodles as a gesture of thanks for the City’s savior, what begins as a simple meal quickly becomes far more complicated, as tangled acquaintances from the distant past emerge and a Guardian’s will is forced to face the truth of her heart.

“Lady Restorer, please, may I buy you a meal?”

Sylvanni had to force herself not to grimace at the title as she looked up from the menu the waitress had just handed her over the counter. Ever since the City had been retaken, she’d started becoming a bit of a celebrity as Guardians and citizens alike heard the story of what she’d done. There were many impressive achievements over the course of her long second life, but none had netted her the same level of notoriety as defeating Ghaul.

They called her things in the streets now. Restorer. Light-bringer. Champion of the Traveler. Some of the more passionate had started using the epithet Red Breaker.

She still found the notoriety uncomfortable.

Still the man who’d walked up to the counter beside her had a kind air about him, someone grateful for her service to the City who wished to give a small token of his gratitude. He was a Warlock, like herself, if his robes were any indication. They were well-made, of a solid black with gold trim, hung with draping fabric and tied with cords.

He waved for her to enter the little shop before him, which she hesitated to do, as she’d originally planned to sit outside at the window counter. Still, he was buying her meal, and perhaps it would be nice to sit in an actual padded seat indoors rather than on a tall stool. He held the beads covering the doorway aside and she ducked into the depths of the little steam-shrouded shop, making for one of the booths.

“It’s very kind of you to do this,” she said as she slid into the booth.

He sat down across from her, having acquired a menu of his own along the way. “Please. It’s an honor after everything you’ve done for us.”

Sylvanni offered an empty smile at the compliment, placid and polite, because that was what one was supposed to do when a stranger said something nice. After weeks of attention, however, she was truly beginning to miss her anonymity. She could play the part of the heroic yet humble champion if that was what people needed her to be, but the mantle was too heavy and the mask of it chafed in its insincerity.

A part of her wished she could just go back to being herself, just Sylvanni Duv. Another part of her cruelly reminded her that she hadn’t really known who that was anyway.

The waitress stopped by to take their order, an Exo with forest green plating in a short sundress. Conscious of the fact that she wouldn’t be paying, Sylvanni ordered one of the less expensive noodle bowls, beef with scallions and spicy broth. Guardian hot, the kind that required Light-based healing to not damage one’s mouth. A good dose of spice always helped clear her head.

Her companion’s generosity continued, as he ordered not only noodles with chicken in a sweet peanut and kiwicumber sauce, but also a plate of steamed buns, no coriander leaves, presumably for them to share. As the waitress left, Sylvanni frowned as the order pulled up old memories.

He noticed. “I’m sorry, is that okay? I should have asked.”

“It’s fine,” she said, waving off his concern. “I just used to know someone who ordered buns the same way. Made me think of them.”

He folded his arms across the table in a relaxed posture. “I appreciate the chance to speak with you. I have heard stories of how you brought the Light back, each one more stunning than the last.”

“To be honest,” she said, nodding in thanks as the waitress brought glasses of water for the table, “I just held the gun. The Traveler brought itself back. Or perhaps something Ghaul did restored it.”

He chuckled. “Forgive me if I don't thank him with a bowl of ramen.”

That pulled a smile from her. “Were you in the City during the fall?”

“No, though we felt it all the same. I thought it was the end of everything, losing the Light like that.”

“I know the feeling.” Sylvanni looked out through the curtain of beads, watching people pass outside. “He was right there when mine was taken. Ghaul, I mean. Zavala sent me to disable the flagship's shields from the inside and I was standing on the top deck as the cage constricted around the Traveler for the first time. Ghaul and his retinue just watched as I crumpled in pain, as my Ghost fell to the ground with a hollow clink.”

Her dining companion seemed content to let her continue, and so she let her mind drift back to the terror and pain of those moments, putting herself back in the thick of remembrance. There was something meditative about it, experiencing the emotions from a distance.

“He seemed so dismissive, so utterly unthreatened by me as he walked up and kicked me across the deck. I barely felt it, even though I'm sure he broke bones. The pain of that just seemed so insignificant compared to the agony of having my Light ripped away from me.

“He said I needed to be reacquainted with the fear of death, then planted a massive foot against my helmet and shoved me over the side. I assume the last bits of Light I had saved me from the fall, because I woke up broken and beaten in the ground.”

The other Warlock nodded along. “It’s brave of you to have gone back to face him again after something like that.”

Sylvanni pursed her lips. “I’m not certain I would call it brave, exactly. It was simply something that needed to be done, and I had Light, so I was the one to do it.”

“Very humble of you,” he said, shaking his head. “He mentioned that and yet…”

“Wait,” Sylvanni said, frowning. “Who mentioned something?”

He was spared from answering her by the return of the waitress with their food, two steaming bowls and the plate of soft buns. Sylvanni eyed him, her intuition starting to make her suspicious, something familiar pricking her instincts.

Before she could say something, he nodded his head toward her slowly, an approximation of a bow. “It’s been an honor speaking with you, Lady Restorer. I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

“You sound like you’re leaving,” she said, narrowing her eyes. Something golden flashed on his finger, a signet ring of a sun inside an eye that she hadn’t noticed before. “Hold up, I do know you! I’ve seen you in the Reef. You–”

“Thank you, Brother Vance,” a smooth voice said behind her, “I can take over from here. Would you watch the street for us? I’d hate unexpected company.”

Sylvanni’s blood ran cold.

She wanted to scream, to run, to fight, to do something, but she was so stunned she found she couldn’t move. Once Vanguard, now exiled pariah, Osiris himself patted Vance on the shoulder as the cultist stood and slid into the booth seat across from her. He had picked up the chopsticks and was lifting the first bite of noodles to his mouth, watching her all the while, before she managed to find her voice.

The hissed snarl of words that finally escaped her would have impressed the Fallen. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His mouth quirked slightly, trying not to smile. “Hello, Sylvanni.”

He seemed utterly unperturbed, sitting in the middle of the City he had been explicitly forbidden to return to. Then again, he’d always had a way of seeming in control in any situation. It had made him a good leader during his time in the Tower, a handsome charismatic who drew followers like moths to a flame.

The problem had been, of course, where he’d chosen to lead them.

She was surprised—though she shouldn’t have been—how unchanged he seemed from his years of exile. For a moment, it was like no time had passed. They could have been back more than a century ago, with him, still the Vanguard, meeting up to talk about her research into the Ahamkara, or telling her about latest project he’d been working on. His smile was still kind, his sun-dark skin smooth, eyes as black and fathomless as the void. A dangerous kind of beauty.

“How did you get into the City?” she demanded.

He shook his head, tsking softly. “Such an uninteresting question. There are many Guardians returning to see the Traveler reborn. It’s a simple thing to stow away.”

He, like Vance, did not wear the customary bright yellow robes of his order, but was instead clad in similar nondescript black with golden trim. Perhaps it would have made him noticeable to wear his own colors, but there were many among the Guardians who flaunted the gifts they’d won in his Trials, those who carried gifts from Osiris’ followers as a trophy without truly understanding what they meant.

“The Traveler’s rebirth didn’t lift your exile,” she said coldly. “The Vanguard will come down on you if they discover you here.”

“Ah, the Vanguard are so fond of ignorance,” he said, twirling another tangle of noodles around his sticks. “It would be cruel of me to disabuse them of it. They cast me out because I wished for knowledge. I must assume then, that they prefer things left unknown.”

Sylvanni’s brow drew to a hard line. “You were exiled because you threw away lives and resources at a time when they could not be spared and you know that. You let your selfish curiosity get in the way of doing what needed to be done.”

“‘Selfish curiosity?’ What an interesting oxymoron.” He watched her with that gaze that seemed to understand too much, to be able to see things better left hidden. Beneath it however, his smile was fond. “Dear Sylvanni. Ever dutiful. You have not changed.”

“Unfortunately,” she said flatly, “I must say the same of you.”

He picked up one of the buns, holding it towards her before taking a bite. “You should have some. They're very good.”

She ignored him. “What are you doing, Osiris? Sneaking into the City? Sending messages through the Vex networks?”

“I might point out that you were also in that Vex network.”

She grimaced, feeling her confusion over this whole situation turn her stomach. “No, no, this is wrong. I shouldn’t be sitting here talking to you. You shouldn’t be here at all. I should call the Tower Garrison and have you arrested for breaking exile.”

“Over a bowl of noodles? I wasn’t aware a meal was such a threat to City security.” He gestured toward her bowl again more insistently. “Please, it’s just dinner. I promise I won’t topple the infrastructure of the Tower or stage any violent revolutions from this noodle shop.”

With a terse sigh, she relented, picking up her own chopsticks while glaring at him. “You're mad. But fine. One meal. Then you leave again.”

“Very well.” He seemed saddened by her hostility towards him, as if somehow he’d expected she’d be pleased to see him. “You’re quick to quote the Vanguard’s rhetoric against me, but I cannot believe these things you say. We worked together for decades. Look me in the eye and tell me you think I’m the madman they claim.”

She did meet his eyes, but she couldn’t quite say it. There had always been something powerfully manic to Osiris, but never unhinged. He believed everything he did deeply and ignored logic and common sense in pursuit of his goals, but the true threat that Osiris posed was not insanity, but rather a dangerous level of sanity.

It wasn’t that he was manipulative, per se. It was simply that he understood people in a way that gave him the ability to make them listen. He connected with others in a way that made them feel important, that validated their thoughts and insecurities. He could speak with such passion that one couldn’t help but start to see things his way.

That was something far more perilous than a lunatic.

“Fine,” she admitted. “I don’t believe you’ve lost your mind, no. But you insult me if you believe I’m simply parroting the Vanguard. My words and thoughts are my own, no one else’s. You are many of the things that they say.”

The bun grasped in his chopsticks threatened to fly free as he gestured with that hand. “What threat do I pose to the Vanguard? I’ve attacked no one. I make no actions against the Tower. Guardians who choose to follow me do so freely, because they’re tired of getting missions and targets instead of answers and truth. They understand that there is knowledge worth seeking beyond what you find at behind the trigger of a gun. They’re tired of feeling more like a weapon than a person.”

“No one’s saying that knowledge is bad,” she said, after finishing a bite of her own meal. The burning in her mouth was a mild counterpart to the burning frustration within. “There are things that are more important than answers! There are duties you failed to fulfill as Vanguard because you put your questions above everything else. And there are things out there, like your precious Vex, that are too dangerous to be used! The damage you’ll cause far outweighs any meager benefit you might glean from it!”

A thought began to coalesce, like a matrix of data lattice branching from thin air. The more she spoke the more she realized what this was reminding her of. Osiris opened his mouth to respond, but she continued on, not letting him have a word in edgewise.

“You’re… Osiris, you are an Ahamkara to the Tower. You and your cult are that mysterious, distant thing that lures in the unwary with the promise of granting wishes and giving the answers everyone’s always wanted. You are a temptation, a seduction–” His eyebrow raised at her word choice and she instantly regretted it. “–a siren call that steals away needed fighters from the front lines. That is why you’re a threat. Because of that, you must be stopped, just like the Ahamkara were.”

He mulled that over for a long pause, not denying her accusations, but neither did he concede to them. Finally, he gave her a long, steady look. “Do you still question? Wonder? I remember a newly-raised scholar, desperate to learn, fascinated by the world and its secrets. What happened to the woman I knew, that relentless seeker? What have they done to her?”

“She grew up, Osiris. She realized there were things more important than secrets. She stopped questioning and started doing because there were things that needed to be done.”

He shook his head slowly. “You may have convinced others here that you are this hollow creature of orders and laws that you pretend to be, but I don’t believe you. You and I are birds of a feather, cut of the same cloth. You think like I do. You question, and the questions haunt you, demanding satisfaction. You always have always been as I am, and you always will be. You cannot deny your nature, Sylvanni.”

The words stung with a truth she’d long tried to deny about herself. That was the problem with Osiris: he’d always known her far too well.

“Perhaps you’re right and I am like you, deep down,” she quietly admitted, looking down at her bowl because it was easier to face than his eyes. “The difference between us, Osiris, is that I’ve learned that wandering curiosity is a weakness, something I shouldn’t indulge.”

His voice dropped quietly, as he slid a knife of words through her armor and plunged it deep into insecurity. “Don’t you still wonder if we’re real? Don’t you still question if we are people chosen or things created? Aren’t you worried that your obedience is because It created you to obey?”

She stiffened, every existential doubt she’d suffered clawing at her, begging for acknowledgement, seeking to tear her apart. Her thoughts attacked her in the dark, empty hours of the night when there was nothing to distract her from them. And he knew, because he was right, of course. She was the same, deep down.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, gritting her teeth, as though doubt were something she could kill with force of will alone. “It doesn’t matter if I’m a real person or a clever weapon. It doesn’t matter if my obedience isn’t a choice when the orders given are to protect people.”

She swept a hand toward that beaded curtain and the City beyond, still looking anywhere but at him. “That, out there, is what matters. Saving lives, stopping our enemies, keeping the City safe. Nothing else. Not what I want, or what I feel. Not who I am or the things I still wonder. I will be whatever the City needs me to be. If all the Traveler needs is a weapon, then a weapon I shall be. Caring about anything else is indulgent selfishness. If my heart seeks to pull me astray with questions, doubts, wishes or dreams, I will smother it until its insubordination is silenced.”

He understood what she meant, and that was the worst part. He knew that when she spoke of her traitorous heart that the halcyon past between was the thing it longed for most. He knew that his allure was so much more than simply his ideals. He knew and he sat there and looked at her with that sad gaze that she couldn’t meet, lest his eyes convince her of what her heart could not.

He leaned forward—the table narrow enough between them to allow closeness—and it was a motion that she felt, more than saw, with her head still down.

“Sylvanni Duv, I believe you may be the greatest tragedy of my exile. To see a mind such as yours, locked away in blank, unquestioning service to them, to It, is a failure for which I must blame myself. You deserve to think, to feel, to question, and to dream, and no one should have taken that from you. Not the Vanguard, not the Traveler, not even you yourself.”

Before she’d sat down at this table she would have sworn that she was stone from her skin to her core, her insecurities locked away deep where they couldn’t sabotage her. But now Osiris was shattering her walls, her prohibitions, her self. He’d done it centuries ago and he was doing it now. Never malicious, never manipulative, but so intensely earnest the words couldn’t help but be compelling. He won souls because he made you see things his way.

It was why she’d been both heartbroken and relieved to see him leave the Tower in exile, hundreds of years ago: He was the most dangerous temptation she had, the thing she desired most to have and be and trust, and the thing which she could never allow herself to have. His pursuit of his own ideas had nearly broken the Tower. She had sworn to herself that she would be stronger, that she would never become what he was.

Never let him turn her into the thing he’d longed for her to be.

And she knew, if she gave him an inch now, she’d give him everything.

Her confused nausea became a tangible weight in her stomach, and though she’d never had claustrophobia, she suddenly felt as though the walls of the shop were closing in on all sides. She needed to be away. It didn’t matter where, so long as it wasn’t here.

She stood, suddenly, banging her hip on the table in her haste to free herself from the booth, speaking with an almost frantic desperation. “I can’t… Osiris, I can’t do this. I can’t just pretend everything hasn’t happened. I have to… You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake, and I’m leaving. I should have left the moment you appeared.”

She took only two steps before his hand wrapped around her left arm like a second bond, holding her in place.

“Sylvanni, wait. Please.”

She could have pulled free, kept going, run to the side of the railing and flung herself over just to feel the wind in her face and hope she would wake up from the resurrection and find that none of this had been real. But she hesitated, and damned herself instead.

“I didn’t tell you why I came,” he said softly. “You asked why I was here, and I didn’t answer. Allow me that much at least.”

His fingers might have been tongues of fire, flames eating through her sleeve, for the heat they brought to her skin. She could feel each finger individually. The whorls of his fingerprints would be burned into her skin, she was certain of it. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to break away.

She looked back, hating herself for it.

He was so beautiful in sincerity. “The Light. When it was suddenly ripped from us, I feared it could be the end. Yet you returned it. Every Guardian is indebted to you for it.”

She shook her head, confused that he would come so far for something so simple. “What?”

“I came to thank you, Sylvanni Duv, for saving us all.”

Their eyes met and she felt the moment upon her, her chance to pull away, to run and flee back to safety.

That moment passed.

Osiris pulled her gently forward and pressed his lips to hers. And she let him. She stood in that moment and kissed him, hearing the person she’d tried to be screaming in her head. He tasted of sunlight and salt, and as his grip on her arm relaxed, his other hand moved to cup the back of her head, keeping her close.

It was horrible, and it was bliss. The former Sylvanni, a silly girl from centuries ago with silly ideas about her handsome Vanguard, was resurrected within her again, just briefly, when that naive optimist should have been long dead. The current Sylvanni, the the logical pragmatist she’d built herself to become, wailed in silent agony that she was tearing down everything she’d worked so hard to achieve. Decades of discipline, destroyed in one moment of emotional weakness.

But Traveler’s scars, how long had it been since anyone held her?

For a few precious heartbeats, right and wrong fell away and she simply let herself feel something, let her breath mingle with his, let her thoughts twirl aimlessly around nothing but the pleasure of the moment itself and nothing further than that. Duty, consequences, within that embrace, those foundational pillars of her life had no purchase on her and she floated on the ecstasy of it all.

Reality though, was far too weighty to be held at bay by something so fragile as a kiss.

The pragmatist won the fight in her mind, the idealist struck down and locked away once more where she could cause no further damage. Just as quickly as the wonder of the moment had consumed her, crippling guilt washed over it, drowning everything. The nausea returned once more, now arm in arm with a new companion: disappointment in herself, that she’d succumbed so easily.

She broke away, the taste of him souring already, and pushed herself back, suddenly desperate for space between them. “Osiris, I can’t… This was…” The steel mask began to slide back into place, the walls repairing, traitorous emotions executed for their treason. “This was a mistake. You coming here. Me not leaving the moment I saw you.” Her heartbeat still pounded in her ears. “Nothing but a string of mistakes.”

He didn’t seem hurt by the words, though there was that twinge of sadness in his eyes again. He’d expected this, though he’d hoped for something different. She turned away, intending to leave before she could fall any further—before he could drag her further down—but this time he caught her hand instead.

“Wait, before you go,” he said calmly, pressing something small and metalic against her palm. “Take this. A symbol of my favor. That any of my order who see it will know you are to given every courtesy.”

She gritted her teeth, not trusting herself to look back at him again. “I don’t want your favor. Keep it.”

“Please,” he said, stepping close to her again. “For my peace of mind if nothing else.” With his hand wrapped around hers, he folded her fingers around the little object. “It’s a gift.”

She snatched her hand from his, clenching it to a fist around the coin as she kept her back to him. “Leave the City, Osiris. Within the hour. Do not return.”

A sad puff of a laugh escaped him, an amused resignation. “As you command, Lady Restorer. The journey begins with doubt, but ends with solace.”

“Leave.”

“It was good to see you again. Our paths will cross again soon,” he said, still so casual about it all. “I’m looking forward to it. I think I’m going to need your help, though it’s always hard to tell with things like this. Vex minds are, ah, how was it put? ‘Not quite as intuitive as you might think.’ But, then again, that’s what makes these things interesting, isn’t it?”

Sylvanni froze as she recognized the phrase—Cayde’s words—from a conversation Osiris shouldn’t have known about. Meeting again? She spun, a demand for an answer already on her lips.

There was nothing there but empty air.

The table looked lonesome. Two bowls, still slightly steaming, a plate of buns, half eaten, and a glimmer credit in the middle as payment. She stood, stunned. There hadn’t even been a sound as he vanished, no telltale shimmer of a transmat field. A thought occurred to her, and she pushed her way to the front of the shop, emerging into the street. Vance, too, was nowhere to be found.

Guardians and civilians parted around her as Sylvanni stood in the midst of it, a stone around which the currents broke. The world continued on but she stood still, trying to make sense of what had happened, what it had meant. What it had revealed about who she really was.

No answers came, only further questions. The endless, dangerous questions, distractions that she couldn’t ever fully banish. She’d gotten so good at keeping those in check, ignoring their call over the years.

Now she felt lost within them once more. Of course, she thought, that was what he wanted, wasnt’ it? Osiris always gets what he wants.

Always.

#Destiny #Destiny fanfiction #Osiris #Destiny 2 #Destiny the Game #Destiny 2 spoilers #Sylvanni Duv #My Fanfic #Sorry that this is not a Recompense update #but apparently it's Shiptember #and that means I'm going to write relationship drama over ramen #The DLC is going to come in here and wreck my headcanons #but I don't care #I'm having self-indulgent fun

17 notes · View notes