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#to see her get her place back after the network made Gene pick between her and Spock

myenterpriseisparked · 10 months

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There's something kinda poetic about Number One, a character that was a high ranking woman on a 60s tv show who was removed from the story because the network said "no" to a female first officer, getting the storyline she is today. The trial is an allegory for a lot of things, but seeing Number One go through what she has in canon and regain her rightful place on the bridge has a poetic resonance to it, considering the real life bts things happening over the last 60 years. Ad Astra per Aspera indeed, Ma'am.

#i am struggling to articulate my thoughts on this exactly #but seeing Number One return to the ship did something to my brain #and I think it feels extra triumphant that it is Number One who had this story #to see her get her place back after the network made Gene pick between her and Spock #because a female XO was 'too progressive'#and then we got her back #and now we *really* have her back.#idk its just nice #snw spoilers #strange new worlds #una chin riley #number one

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neonponders · 3 years

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👀 👀 👀 👀 Oh jesus oh lord. Deeper Than Skin is finished so I’ll enable another wip.

@ghostofjellyfishforgotten I hope you don’t mind me using your tags on this vampire!Billy / blood donor!Steve post as inspiration! Your brain is just too big for me not to pass up an opportunity to write vampire shenanigans.

Read on ao3 ~

🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹 🌹

Steve didn’t judge people who worked as donors—

Fine, as an adult with a better awareness and compassion, Steve didn’t judge donors. He might’ve said some shitty things to Jonathan Byers when he worked to make his family extra money.

Honestly? Steve admired that. Jonathan being underage and having the guts to figure out how to get into the donation clinic, and then to let…

Steve knew he was a coward in a lot of ways. He knew it when he called Jonathan a queer who enjoyed leeches sucking on him. He knew it when he lost to the punches Byers threw. For a skinny, half empty blood bag, the guy could really hit. And Steve knew it when he almost ran away from Nancy and Jonathan fighting off the rogue vampire who kidnapped little Will Byers.

But Steve didn’t run away.

Just like he didn’t run away from the couch he sat on with his mother while his father explained…a situation that left Steve digging deeper and deeper into the gap between fear and bravery. Maybe call it disassociation. Or confused shock.

“You what?”

Harrington senior never took well to being interrupted. But he sighed from across the coffee table and reiterated, “The family is in debt.”

“No. You. You’re in debt. This is your problem.”

The man certainly didn’t take well to having his own mistakes shoved under his nose. “This isn’t for debate. This is the way things are and need to be.”

“No,” Steve repeated like a broken record clinging onto its song. “This is your fault. Who’s made me work minimum wage jobs to teach me a lesson? Who’s refused to pay for me to go to community college? Who hasn’t let me work in their company? And who made the shitty gambles with your company’s stocks? You shoved me out, so it’s definitely not my problem—”

“The contract has already been signed.”

Now his mother shifted her posture on the couch beside him. “Excuse me?”

Steve’s father moved his blunt nails over the armrest of his wingback, fidgeting. At least something put fear into the old bastard’s heart.

“There’s nothing I could do. The market has been evolving ever since vampires gained their rights and opened up their decades and centuries old bonds—”

“Vampire legislation passed over a century ago,” Mrs. Harrington purred. Sometimes the worst anger was the quiet kind. “You have no excuse. You lost the game, and you sold our son. Is that what we’re to believe?”

“That’s not possible,” Steve intercepted. “Slavery isn’t a thing anymore. Even I picked that up in history. And I would have to be there to sign the contract! It’s my—”

“Steve,” his father silenced. “When enough money is involved, anything is bought. And you’re not like anyone else.”

Mrs. Harrington fumed, “Do not talk to him like he’s a prize pony!”

“Except to a wealthy vampire, he is.”

Steve could only sit in weighted silence for a moment. He always joked to himself that he’d be disowned one of these days. For being a disappointment. For all of his bad grades. For giving his friends alcohol and cigarettes. For only being able to get jobs that required no qualifications or experience level at all. For discovering he liked kissing boys at the grimy music venues Robin took him to. Maybe living at home for too long. Or leaving the smell of burnt pancakes in the air too often because he always struggled with the first one—

“Vampire?” he croaked. For some reason it hadn’t dawned to him until now but…shit.

Holy shit.

Steve wasn’t being sold off to be some billionaire’s secretary for life. He was being…truly sold. Like…goodbye, Steve, who likes spring nights and summer mornings. His favorite food is breakfast and he wishes he kept with the music lessons his mom paid for instead of being peer pressured into sports. Whose best friend was Robin Buckley because she was brave and funny and stuck with him during his ironic and a little bit terrifying queer awakening…

Hello, Donor 0235. Blood type O. Allergic to nickel and checks off all vaccination requirements.

“Steve’s not wrong,” his mother echoed like a voice deep in a cave, drawing Steve out of his thoughts. “He is the one to sign the contract. Not you.”

“He is still classified as our dependent and on our insurance,” his father refused.

“So being an adult means nothing in this country?”

“They have our family records, Annette!” he exclaimed. “There is a dual government in this country even if nobody below upper-middle class sees it. The human government had to cede a great deal because the vampire population is massive. And they’ve kept track of all the Sanguis families! Name changes, and two World Wars did nothing to save us—”

“The what?” Steve all but whispered.

His mother rotated her hips to face him. “We only have legends about how it happened. Paleolithic gods making deals, vampires crossbreeding humans to make a certain kind of blood donor, human evolution after symbiotic deals were struck—but that doesn’t matter. The point is that there are people in this world with abilities that preserve themselves against vampires. That’s why you healed in less than two days after that silly fight by the movie theatre.”

His father intercepted, “The genes skipped your mother but fell to you.”

Steve’s eyes widened as his mother confirmed, “To protect us, girls have been promoted in the family tree for generations. Through marriage, their names could change, and make them harder to track.”

Steve countered toward his father, “So this really isn’t your place to sign my life away. Like five times over.”

“I quite agree,” his mother turned back to the man she’d married. The man who was supposed to protect her and her children with his name and promising, growing business.

At least Steve wasn’t the only failure in the family.

His father massaged his forehead and defended, “As I said. Humans’ government is far easier to corrupt our way into forgiving any debt. The vampires, however, are inconsolable. The bastard would have my business, the cars, our house, and taken his time discovering Steve on his own if I hadn’t—”

Steve took after his father, but he was his mother’s son as they both stood up from the couch, furious that this man had thrown his own kid under a vampire’s bus—

“Get out of the house, Steve.”

His head whipped around at her. “I-What?”

“Get out of the house,” she seethed, but not at him. “I don’t care where or what you do. Go.”

Steve didn’t need to be told twice but he hadn’t managed to grab his car keys or his shoes before the house and his ribcage trembled with his parents’ arguing. He went in his socks outside and put the shoes on in his car.

Then…he didn’t know where to go. Running the hell away seemed like the obvious solution, but if vampires really had such a network, what was the point? And if he left, what would happen to his mom?

Steve drove on autopilot to the video rental store. Robin. All he had was Robin, who took the lollipop out of her mouth when the bell on the door twittered. “Hey, dingus, it’s your day off—Steve?”

He couldn’t really remember driving. That probably should have raised more red flags than he already had, but for now, the black and neon carpeting of the Family Video was blurring and swirling…

“I’m gonna throw up,” he heard himself say.

And Robin in that distant, echoing cave his mother had spoken from, “Outside! STEVE!”

#harringrove #vampire!billy #blood donor!steve #sanguis #neonponders #pondermoniums #ghostofjellyfishforgotten

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novantinuum · 4 years

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Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Words: 3.6K~

Summary: She’s poofed, he repeats to himself like a dying man’s mantra. She’s poofed. She’s stuck in the rubble, but she’s only poofed. She’s fine, and I’m fine, a-and—

Above the scars of Steven's wreckage, thunder claps like mighty titans colliding in the heavens.

(Or: what happens in the moments after Steven and Jasper's rematch.)

Some canon compliant ooof set mid-Fragments.

If you enjoyed this, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. Thank you! <3

Fight the Future

The impact shreds the landscape, gouging deep cracks that penetrate through to bedrock and felling nearly every tree in a good hundred-yard radius. Rubble is still settling, small fragments of bark and stone raining to the ground like scattered bomb shrapnel, but in the heat of the moment he genuinely can’t hear a thing through the blood that pounds in his ears like a war drum. There’s only ringing. Nothing but ringing...

Floating high above the scars of his wreckage, Steven Quartz Universe pants hard, exhausted and lightheaded from all the physical exertion and yet clutching to the tingling energy pulsing under his glowing pink skin with all the desperation of a lost child. This... the raw diamond power he’s been holding back on expressing all this time... surely this has to be what he’s been searching for. This has to be the piece to fill that growing emptiness he can’t seem to shake, right? Right?? Stars, he doesn’t want to let go of this feeling, this invigorating rush, not now, not yet. His fists tremble at his sides. H-he... he’s not ready to be anything else. Besides, the fight isn’t even over. His opponent hasn’t gotten up yet. She’s probably feigning defeat, hoping to catch him off guard. Hah, good ol’, typical Jasper!

With a huff of resolve, he wipes the sweat off his brow and wills himself to drift down to the shattered earth below. Sandaled feet meet the ground toes first. As he fully settles upon his soles, loosened soil shifts under his weight. He scans through the wreckage for the quartz Gem, the inanity of this whole harebrained situation drawing breathless laughter from between his lips. For a split second its darkened tone almost strikes him as alien, but he quickly shreds this thought. After all, everything’s fine! He’s fine. In fact, he’s more than fine. He’s nearly won.

“Please, I know you’re not finished yet,” he goads, an intoxicating dose of satisfaction (as for once in his life, he has full control of something and that thought feels so alluring it’s as if he’s finally greeting the sun) flooding his synapses. He cracks his knuckles hard enough that she’ll be sure to hear. “The fight’s barely started, get up!”

Nothing. No footsteps, no taunting, not even her usual groan of derision. Outwardly he turns his lip up in a sneer. Inside his chest however, a far different story plays out. His heart constricts like it’s being crushed by a vice, tinnitus acting up ever stronger as he tries with desperation not to let this deafening silence taint his apparent victory.

Something’s wrong, something has to be wrong, his mind screams underneath all the mock bravado holding him in one piece. In retrospect that should’ve been his first sign to disengage, the fact that even his body is viscerally reacting to the sight of his wreckage, but in the heat of the moment he stamps out this nettering worry like Jasper would a bug. No! He will not allow himself to crumple to fear again! He’s not afraid of this. That’s why he’s been training. He’s in control now. Not Jasper, not the Gems, not these emerging diamond powers, nor his ever-increasing list of anxieties. And it’s for that precise reason that in all the moments he bares his fists, drops on his haunches... whenever he consciously allows the full force of his ability to burst forth in a flash from the deep wells of his soul like lightning to a tree... he’s not just fighting to prove himself to someone.

He’s fighting the future itself.

He’s done being yanked around by tragedy, by genes, by all his family’s unfinished business. It can’t control him. He won’t let it, not anymore.

I’m in control.

And yet...

(A throat tearing scream, propelled by the creeping desire to fix, to refine, to control... and yet a crater of spiderwebbed cracks he never intended branching underfoot as his audience looks on in slack jawed horror—)

(A dome of his own subconscious creation, born of fear and anxiety and selfishness, unstoppable, pressing inwards, pressing all who dare touch him ever closer towards their ultimate fate—)

(A surge of strength, built from anger and betrayal and loss felt for the stable life he’d never have... the sickening realization that he’s helpless to swerve out of the way as he slams his foot down on the break—)

...if he’s in control, why hasn’t his opponent showed her face yet? Why can’t he force his tensed muscles to ease up, or will away that unbearably nauseous sensation growing ever more present in his gut?

“Jasper, come on! I didn’t hit you that hard.”

The waking world responds by confirming his solitude, the dust that‘s swirling around his legs finally beginning to settle as he takes five wide strides towards the center of the impact crater. The closer he approaches, the more he realizes that his view of the site from far above really didn’t succeed in illustrating just how radical his influence on the landscape was.

Sure, so maybe the monolithic hard light barrier he constructed by sheer force of will has long since dissipated, but its apocalyptic hand on the environment remains. A few concave indents (from the spikes) are scattered throughout the cracked, uneven earth where it is not otherwise fractured beyond all recognition. The tree trunks left standing are so harshly splintered that he’s sure the razor sharp edges of their bark could slice his fingers. Fallen branches, heavily segmented and warped, mix evenly between blocky chunks of stone and clay. Pine needles are scattered across the face of the ruins like confetti. With his overactive digits growing increasingly squirrelly at his side the longer he observes his handiwork, his gaze shies down.

Stop!!!

His sandaled foot hovers.

Ants. A vast colony of them, tiny and black and darting about all lost and confused. Normally one doesn’t see so many of them crowding at the surface, but all this destruction must have unearthed their intricate network of tunnels.

Steven stumbles back a few steps from the heart of the panicked, scurrying mass, knowing immediately by the sharp twist in his chest that he didn’t manage to miss all of them. H-he- stars, why does he even care so much? They’re just ants. It’s not like he’s never accidentally stepped on an ant before, yeah? And it’s certainly not like he, a self-proclaimed vegetarian, hasn’t spent the past three days surviving entirely off fish he personally caught, skewered, and broiled! It’s not like any of this is inherently wrong, it’s just... different. He’s different. He’s changing, transforming, just like this landscape changed. And that’s okay!

This is exactly what I wanted, he tells himself, a broken smile creeping across his face. I’m different, but I’m better. I am! I’m in control of myself now!

The teenager grips at his hair, fingers clutching tight around thick clumps of unwashed, overgrown curls, and yanks. (Needle pricks of pain shoot across his scalp like a metaphysical lattice. His choice. Somewhere, somehow, it’s probably deserved.) An almost tipsy peel of laughter surfaces from a place deep in his soul yet unbeknownst to him. His limbs tremble as he struggles to take a breath between it all.

“I’m in control,” he rasps, hands drifting to press at his temples. Nature responds with a startling thunderclap. He flinches on instinct, another laugh bubbling over the brim. “I am, I’m...”

Another roll of thunder. Slowly, steadily, he begins to feel cold raindrops sprinkle against his still-glowing skin as he inhales fast and shallow, standing at the center of the clearing. Almost everything outside the narrow radius of his light is dark and muted and painted in shades of brown and grey. There’s barely any green. With the intruding storm, no blue. And as for orange...

Suddenly feeling like nothing more than an insignificant speck upon this landscape, he cups his mouth and roars.

“Jasper!!”

For a moment nature seems to accept his cry, taking it up through her roots like a tree does nutrients from the soil, but it quickly becomes obvious that the nutrients he provides are nothing but toxic. Degenerating. Something to be rejected. The distant cliffs bounce his words back at him without thinking twice, naught a single response to be found on the wind. There’s only rain now.

Nothing but rain.

A harsh shudder runs through his body as the reality of his situation begins to set in. He stands motionless, feet chained into place, his clothes growing wetter and wetter as the thunderstorm’s strength picks up. In all this time, Jasper’s made no move to retaliate. She hasn’t even shown her face. So... This fight- is that it? Is their rematch over? D-did he...

His eyes widen so far in his dawning comprehension that they sting.

“Oh geeze, I poofed her, didn’t I?” he says out loud, bluntly answering his own question. “That’s why she’s not responding... I-I—“ his words are cut in the middle by a choked sob, a strange noise caught somewhere between the tides of pride and utter disbelief— “I actually poofed her!”

He quickly finds himself overrun with laughter once more, this latest batch rough and strained, a wordless plead for help. (But no worries, though, really! He can figure this out!) Desperate, wandering fingers tug across the coarse stubble dusting his cheeks. Dampened curls plaster against his forehead, his head almost feeling heavier for it. So yeah, maybe he poofed her. From all evidence, that seems to be the most likely scenario here. He, Steven Quartz Cutie-Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe, singlehandedly poofed a Gem. But it’s not like he‘s never done that before?? Bismuth? Spinel? This isn’t anything new. He’s not so innocent as he’d like to believe he is. And sure, so maybe he held the upper ground on his finishing blow, and maybe this entire fight wasn’t in self defense like the others to begin with, but that’s not a problem either! All this? Just a spar. It’s just training. In a moment he’ll find Jasper’s gem buried in the rubble, and when she reforms back at camp she’ll give him a rough clap on the back and admit something uncharacteristically touchy-feely about how she never imagined he actually had it in him, and everything will be fine. It will!

Inhaling deep through his nose, he drops to his knees at the center of the crater— pointedly ignoring the damp soaking through his jeans and the shiver dancing up his spine— and begins pulling aside thick slabs of stone. Another nearby lightning strike asserts its presence with a frightening clap, his limbs seizing up and his heart ramming double time on impulse. He grimaces, rainwater dripping off his nose and chin. Stars, it’s only thunder! He hasn’t been scared of thunder since he was a child, so what’s all this about? He’s stronger than this. He’s better than this. Stubbornly refusing to let nature’s force intimidate him, he pushes on. Another roll of thunder, another stone overturned. Not a glint of orange to be found here either.

It’s strange... he’s not even off the ground, but he feels like he’s falling, his body limp and helpless to break his descent, the ground rushing to swallow him whole faster than he can move to even protect his face. And like an ill-fated omen, a destiny he may ignore but never shake, this feeling clings to him like the inescapable stench of smoke on charred clothes. If anything else, he supposes it’s proof he faced the fires head on and survived.

He can’t say the same for Jasper.

Above, thunder claps like mighty titans colliding in the heavens.

(Boisterous, neigh-unrecognizable laughter, a sky walled off in panels of incandescent light… his opponent’s terror-stricken form shackled to the very Earth she detests as she awaits his next attack, finally powerless in the claws of the diamond once beaten and belittled by her might and doesn’t that just drip with irony, doesn’t not holding back for once against someone who hurt you feel great—)

Chunks of clay break apart in his hands as he angles to relocate them. No gemstone yet.

She’s poofed, he repeats to himself like a dying man’s mantra. She’s poofed. She’s stuck in the rubble, but she’s only poofed. She’s fine, and I’m fine, a-and—

His mind grows dizzier and fainter by the second as he searches for his reassurance, for some steady surface upon which he might gently end his descent. Falling… He’s still falling. But the problem now is that his heart is pounding so hard his chest feels like it's bruising from the inside out, and all the drab greys and browns of his surroundings have blurred together until he can barely distinguish the start and end of anything. Hands once steady and assured now repeatedly fumble over uneven chunks of wet stone, unable to grasp their edges solidly enough to turn them over. H-he… no matter how hard he fights, he still can’t—! The diamond huffs, smooth, blemishless fingers slamming into hardened fists. Frustration spilling out broken and raw like hunks of cotton from between his soul’s uneven seams, he stares into the face of the uncaring, stormy sky and screams.

Energy explodes outwards, momentarily tinting his world in pink. He screams until he’s hoarse, until his throat burns like an inferno and his innate healing factor has to once more clean up the damage he’s sewn. (Although today he almost wishes it wouldn’t.) Behind him, something cracks at his command. Still very much panting in light of such a bombastic release of power, he presses a weary hand to his forehead and turns to meet the sight head on.

Be it from exhaustion or clear-cut denial, it takes a while for him to fully comprehend what he’s looking at.

His screams have cleaved a flat slab of stone in half. Before, this slab seems to have been propped diagonal against a sturdy boulder in an almost tent-like fashion, shielding the rough soil below from the elements and any further defacement. Both the soil, and…

Oh.

His head fills with static. Glimmers of orange flood through his synapses as if he’s staring through the eyepiece of a kaleidoscope, and suddenly the whole world’s spinning and shifting and—

The next moment he’s aware, he’s on his hands and knees before the sight in question, those quivering, squirming fingers clawing into uneven earth as if it too may abandon him at a moment’s notice, having realized far too late how terrible a person he is, how he- NO! He heaves for breath as his herculean form pulses with light and shrinks down to his typical soft, stocky self, leaving not a trace of pink in its wake. The surrounding world is plunged into darkness. Choking back a sob, he yanks his hands out of the ground and desperately smooths over the divots he made as if this single act could in any way make up for the blunt reality that he’s a sha- NO! NO, NO NONONONONO- not real not real not real, NONE of this can be real, there’s no way, it’s not true, stars, h-he’s not—

His whole body trembling like a man angling to greet death, Steven reaches a hesitant finger towards one of the orange, glittering quartz shards littering the soil. This isn’t real. Those shards can’t be real, can’t really be lying amidst the rot and ruin in the rain, and he’ll prove it. H-he’s having a nightmare, he has to be. He has to! Because if he’s not, a-and he caused this, and Jasper, she- if she’s really—

Skin meets crystal, organic heat pooling against the cold, lifeless facet in a veritable explosion of sensation. The shard shifts under his touch and knocks against the other pieces of Jasper’s gem. Tangible, and very, very real. Gasping, he jerks back as if burned by ice, bile rising in his throat.

SHATTERER I’m a shatterer she’s shattered she’s dead she’s GONEGONEGONE shards broken, fractured, cold, there’s nocomingback youSHATTEREDher you’reamonst—

NO!

The last stitch holding his battered soul in one piece snaps. His chest heaving, strained, sloppy wails begin to rise into the air like the threads of thin morning mist, fading into obscurity under the thunderstorm’s might. A rush of wind bites against his face, the salt of his tears mixing with the steadily falling rain. Gently... reverently... (too late too late you’re too late) he gathers up all her shards in his palm.

Steven’s genuinely unsure how much time passes while he sobs there in the crater’s heart, the soil turning to mud under his knees. Each second is an eternity spent locked within the recesses of his own mind, screaming in denial at the wreck he’s become, the mess he’s made. Connie, his dad, the Gems, and now her—! In all paths of the known universe, how is it that— despite years of tireless effort to do the right thing— his life has fallen to this? What’s wrong with him??

He doesn’t notice he’s pink again until the glow’s already overtaken his body, entombing him like a second skin. Blood pumps wildly right alongside the dizzying rush of hard light through non-organic veins. The teen’s breath hastens, and he‘s powerless to stifle his cries as he begins to swell up, an ungodly sum of pressure threatening to burst out right then and there from the arc of his spine. On his own there’s nothing he can do but hunch over and ride the episode through, his head throbbing and mind shrouded in static. Arms tremble to support his upper body. His chest bows in and out in an unpredictable pattern, and yet no sum of air is enough to quell his panic. Grinding his eyes shut, he hunts for an anchor. Shirt... his shirt. It’s sopping wet now, sticking to his back. The scent of pine needles, mingling amongst the rain. Sandals on his feet. The thunder, still causing him to seize like a child with each startling clap.

The weight of her fragments in a shatterer’s his hands.

(For once, a title not even Mom could claim, hah! Imagine that...!)

It’s a slow path to victory, but eventually his anchors are successful. The swelling recedes. The stone and soil around him grows drab and neutral in color once more, the pink glow fading from his skin. His lungs ache from exertion as his breath evens out. Sitting back on his haunches, he lifts the remains of Jasper’s gem to eye level, watching as the sharp edged fragments knock against each other, waging battle even in death. Memories flicker through his mind like a roll of polaroids: the terror he experienced that night he met her on the beach; standing up to her as Stevonnie; the moment he realized with shame stewing in the pit of his heart just how insecure she really was, watching her all but corrupt herself; every day he tried to convince her with no success to reach out to Little Homeschool. Even if he didn’t... didn’t hurt her, would all this still be his fault? Could he have done more? Is this nightmare he’s trapped himself in a failure of aid as well as a failure of morality?

What happened to him, Steven Universe, savior of the galaxy? When did he stop being the boy who heals?

“What... am I doing...?” he pants, gripping the shards in closed fists. “I.... I have to fix this.” Blinking heavily against the rain, his emboldened words spill out into the observing wilderness. “There’s gotta be a way to fix this!”

With a stubbornness as hard as diamond stirring in his heart, he grinds his teeth together, opening his eyes so wide that they sting. His tears once brought Lars back to life. They outright resurrected the dead. So shouldn’t it stand to reason they should also weave shattered Gems back together?

“Come on,” he says pitifully, holding the glittering orange remains close to his face. “Please! Cry, Universe, cry! I just...!”

He feels his face screw up, powerless once more to hold the sobs back. They strip the layers of his soul to bedrock, each gasping cry more helpless and desperate than the last. Water carves a messy trail down his cheek, dripping off his chin and onto the slick shards. The droplets clinging to their surface area cause the ambient light to scatter at new and unpredictable angles. If not for the sobering context, he’d call it beautiful. But despite the tracks of his tears, the shards remain dim and cold.

Lifeless.

His shoulders shudder.

“I-I don’t want this,” he says, voice hitching, “I don’t want to hurt anyone! So why can’t I just—“

Wait, he realizes with the speed of a lightning strike to a tree.

“The diamond essences,” he whispers hoarsely, tasting each syllable on his tongue. “They- they can heal corrupted Gems, bring them back w-where I can’t alone. Is… is it possible they could also—?”

Steven shoots to his feet at the crater’s center, clutching onto the pieces of the quartz Gem like a lifeline. He- oh stars, he has to get back to the house, quick! There’s still time. There’s still a sliver of hope. He can still mend this mess he’s made. Turning on his heels, he begins to sprint back to camp with Jasper in tow, his flip flops noisily squelching in the mud.

The future won’t win, not here, not now. I won’t let it. I’m not a shatterer a healer! I’m Steven Universe. I'm in control.

I’m still in control.

#su #su future #steven universe #suf #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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savage-rhi · 4 years

Text

DS: Rewind Ch. 31

I hope that you're staying safe and hanging in there during these tough times. Thank you for reading and continuing to support this work. You have my love and appreciation <3.

Higgs stared down at his golden mask, his gloved fingers gently carding over the small details and intricate dents scattered across the item. He was lost in his thoughts, that not even the waves on the beach wetting his clothes on the shore distracted him. Higgs didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, but when Amelie approached, he didn’t give the courtesy of acknowledging her. He was so caught up in his own mind, that when she crouched down and patted his shoulder, Higgs jumped.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Higgs, it’s almost time.” Amelie said gently, trying to coax Higgs out of his shell.

“What’s the fucking point?” Higgs asked as Amelie furrowed her brows, shaking her head.

“Higgs, I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know damn well what I mean.” Higgs finally looked up at her and brought himself up. He held onto his mask so tight that if his anger alone could have broken it, the mask would have shattered.

“My men have been obliterated. I’ve encountered Sam several times now, and you have yet to let me sick him, and on top of it--I can’t help but notice it’s almost as if you want him to succeed.”

Amelie sighed, shaking her head. “Higgs, it’s like I explained, when Sam gets the Chiral Network up and running, everyone’s beach will be connected. It will help my powers, and it will allow me to destroy everything in one go. You have to be patient. It wasn’t my fault Homo Demens failed. You were the leader.”

Higgs growled as Amelie held herself in high regard. She wasn’t going to let Higgs belittle her for his mistakes. As far as she was concerned, Amelie gave Higgs power and he had misused it instead of thinking ahead like she had told him many times. She watched as Higgs began to pace around, rubbing the back of his neck from time to time.

“I didn’t anticipate Gene sweeping in and fucking things up. Neither did I think Fragile and Sammy boy were gonna team to kick my ass. Everything’s falling apart.” Higgs said sadly, shaking his head as he let out a deep sigh he had been holding onto for a long while.

“A leader--a god knows when to take the credit when things go good, and the blame for when they are bad. Higgs, it’s alright. You’re acknowledging what you lost sight of. I admit I was blindsided when it came to Gene’s interference. I should have taken into account how dangerous she was becoming, consorting with the Death Walkers. They were never a threat and kept to themselves, but she’s taken it a step farther.”

Higgs made a face, biting his bottom lip as his eyes grew more saddened by the second upon Amelie mentioning Gene’s name. His memories were a fog, but Higgs recalled Gene trying to pull him out of the sea, into his own beach before Amelie had chased her away. There was something profound about the experience in that he felt so little, but also one again with--something. Higgs couldn’t wrap himself around the concept. Maybe if he got to the surface with her, maybe he would have gotten an answer. Either way, Gene's powers scared him though he wouldn't allow himself the courtesy of such despicable weakness.

“What did she do to me?” Higgs murmured as Amelie approached, cupping Higgs’s face. He barely peered up at Amelie as tears stroked down his face, smudging the bit of makeup he had on his eyes.

“Does it matter?” Amelie asked sincerely.

“To me, it does. She--tried uprooting me, from where I felt safe.” Higgs muttered, the defeat in his voice tugging at Amelie as she shook her head. She couldn’t allow Higgs to focus on this, not when they were getting close to the finish line.

“If you must know, all she was doing, all she was attempting at, was taking you from here. Higgs, Gene was trying to sever our connection. She was going to take your powers away.”

Higgs looked up, glaring as he shook his head.

“No, she cannot do that. Not when I have so much to finish.”

The anger in his voice made Amelie smile sincerely for once. Relief captured her breath as she nodded, agreeing with Higgs in full. Whatever she could do to pacify him for the time being, Amelie was going to take advantage of it.

“You’re absolutely right, Higgs. That’s why I have a plan.” Amelie said, watching as Higgs’s facial features eased up. He was curious, tilting his head to the side as Amelie stepped back and held out her hands, conjuring up a golden knife. The base black as BT’s themselves. Higgs hesitated, but eventually took hold of the weapon and studied it carefully. His brows furrowed out of confusion.

“This--looks like my old one.” Higgs muttered as Amelie nodded.

“It’s special. The gold is made out of the same material that went into your mask, that gave you power. This is more concentrated. I based it on the cufflinks Sam received from that woman, Mama. When Sam uses the knife against BTs, he sends them back to the afterlife. This however, will level the playing field with you and Gene should she get in the way again.”

“This won’t kill her, will it?” Higgs asked, shooting a glare towards Amelie as she shook her head.

“No, but it will give her the idea to back down. It’ll make her too weak to use her Ka against you.”

“Good.” Higgs said with a huff, then replaced said knife with his old one, discarding the former into the sands without care. The tool was disposable much like the people he had come across and led to ruin.

“Walk with me, Higgs. Let’s go over the plans again.” Amelie said, smiling at him as Higgs joined alongside. They both walked the shoreline of the beach in silence for the first while, letting nerves and emotions filter away. A certain air of peace resided in Higgs, despite his body feeling a weight on it. Even with his powers, on the beach, he felt hindered in a way. Higgs nonetheless chalked it up to being human unlike Amelie, who merely dressed herself as one.

“We spooked Sam with the dream you conjured up, where I took that pretty necklace of yours.” Higgs started as Amelie nodded.

“I ambushed him with the BT cat, while he delivered that woman to Mountain Knot--pushed Sammy boy that much closer out West. I'll face him down in Edge Knot City after I blow up what remains of the people there, and kill the poor bastard once and for all.”

“No, before you encounter Sam out on the boundary line of Edge Knot City, you need to take care of Fragile.”

Higgs tensed as he glared, letting out a disgruntled huff. “What of her?”

Amelie sighed, picking up a stranded shell below the sands by her feet. Higgs watched as she carefully played around with it, her fingers circling over the shape with utmost care. An odd thing for an Extinction Entity to do, hold onto something so fragile all the while knowing one could easily crush it.

“Much like Gene, she’s in the way. Though she’s not necessarily going to be a problem for you, but for Sam. Their bond--I fear even though she inadvertently is helping Sam head towards West, she’s going to mess things up. Turn Sam against me before you and I can usher the final extinction. I can feel it.”

Higgs chuckled amusingly. “Sounds like someone is jealous.”

“Regardless,” Amelie chose to ignore Higgs’s remark, and he watched as Amelie crushed the shell between her fingers, scattering the remains into the sand like it was nothing. He could only imagine what it was going to feel like when Amelie would chart the course of the Final Stranding. A vibe of dread and ease went down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention the longer he thought on it. Excitement overtook his aura.

“Having Fragile walk through Timefall wasn’t enough to deter her from interference. Something more permanent needs to be done. That is what I’m charging you with, Higgs. You have my full permission and support to do whatever is necessary to make sure she is off the board.” Amelie said firmly. She came to a halt, staring directly up at Higgs. There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes that Amelie caught onto and before any words could escape his lips, she interrupted.

“Is the particle of god having second thoughts?” Amelie questioned, sounding suspicious in tone as Higgs shook his head. His persona taking on a playful stance as he let out a laugh.

“Far from it. Don’t worry darlin’, I’ll take good care of her for ya. Just like we planned.” Higgs said, resting both hands on Amelie’s shoulders and giving a pat. It was affectionate, almost too much for her liking but she went along and smiled. Whatever kept Higgs happy for the time being, Amelie went along with it.

“It’ll give me a chance to test out the knife you conjured. I’m very much looking forward to burying the hatchet with Fragile in a manner of speaking. She was always a nuisance. Bitch always thought she was better than me.” Higgs chuckled, then took a few steps back. He placed the mask over his face and got ready to jump.

“Higgs,��

“Hmm?”

“Don’t fail me. Not on this one.”

Higgs paused, thinking on Amelie's words for a moment before he smirked underneath the mask and jumped back to the world of the living.

Gene was at the mouth of the cave on the cliff, nearby a small fire Walkers had made for her. A blanket wrapped securely over her body. Now that Gene's Ka settled back into her Ha, some of the damage to her body had receded but she looked like a fifty-five year old woman now, with strands of gray tattered throughout her hair, and wrinkles creating crevices like the moon into her flesh.

Gene felt unsteady than before, even with all the training Pride had her undergo to beef up her body for her powers, there were new points of weakness she had to adjust with. Gene felt colder than usual for starters. It was hard to sleep without feeling like she was being entombed by ice in her blood.

“How are you holding up?”

Gene turned her head, seeing Fragile had appeared after jumping to the Death Walker's location. Gene smiled up at her, giving a shrug.

“Nice to see you. I feel like an old hag, look like one too.”

Fragile chuckled, shaking her head as she sat down by the fire, stretching her legs while letting out a content sigh. She was happy to catch a break from all the work being done alongside Sam and the UCA.

“Makes two of us. At least, from the neck down for me.”

“Lucky bitch.” Gene chuckled, surprised as Fragile joined her in laughing.

Fragile unclipped a small jar from her belt that had a dozen cryptobiotes inside, squirming about. The little pudgy pink blobs chittered around. She uncapped the jar cautiously, pulling a few out before they could escape into the air. Fragile was quick to shove the first few in her mouth, then gathered four in her hand, making a fist so they wouldn’t escape, and handed them over to Gene.

“Do you want them?” Fragile asked. “The taste isn’t so bad when you get used to it.”

“I’ll try anything once,” Gene said with a smirk, grabbing a hold of the bug-like creatures and popped them one by one into her mouth. The texture was weird. Half of their bodies felt crunchy, like bits of chocolate scattered about a piece of cake, while there was a moist texture that made her tongue feel weird. Gene couldn’t help but make a face, feeling goosebumps trail over her arms. Nonetheless, the metallic taste was rather pleasant.

“Seems like someone’s enjoying themselves.” Fragile grinned as Gene shook her head, swallowing the bits and letting the blood flow down her throat.

“It’s kind of messed up. I think these little guys are rather cute.” Gene said, furrowing her brows sadly as she looked at the jar, seeing the other cryptobiotes looking up at her. She felt guilty. It couldn’t be helped.

Fragile activated a button, a dark shield covering the glass of the jar as she shrugged.

“They keep the Timefall at bay according to Heartman. I figured they’d do the same for you, more or less.”

“Speaking of him, did you send Heartman the information Pride and the clan allowed you to take?” Gene asked.

“About the prehistory, the cave paintings, and the Neanderthal EE? Yeah. You should have been there, Gene. Heartman was so excited, he couldn’t stop talking. I was held up for almost two hours. Don’t worry, the Death Walkers and this location haven’t been disclosed. I made sure of it.” Fragile said, smiling proudly as Gene let out a sigh of relief.

“Good. Pride and the clan all want to help scientists understand the Death Stranding, but they don’t want to be lab rats for the UCA. I can’t blame them. I’m on the same boat now.” Gene said with relief, her mind briefly pondering the what-ifs of that particular situation. Luckily, she knew she could count on Fragile to keep things under lock and key.

“Higgs is now the most wanted in the cities. The UCA has a price on his head. I learned that after joining them to help Sam on his mission to hook up the Chiral Network.” Fragile said, changing the subject as Gene clutched more onto the blanket. Her body adjusted, trying to get closer to the fire without burning herself. Fragile could see the unease in Gene’s body language and swallowed.

“What’s he been up to since blowing up the Capitol?” Gene asked, curiously looking towards Fragile’s direction.

Fragile let out a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. She wasn’t sure where to begin. So much time had passed between then and now.

“Higgs posed as a member of Bridges, nearly got Sam and me into deep shit. Almost blew up another city, but Sam helped me toss the nuke into the tar pits. That was long after your fight. I tried tailing Higgs afterward, but--he went under the radar. I couldn’t follow him to the beach. From what I gather, he’s been there mostly save for the few times he’s come out to cause havoc in the smaller communities. I think he’s running solo, now that Homo Demens has been taken out. Whatever it is you did to him, he hasn’t been as bold since the fight in Central Knot.”

Gene tossed a few more sticks into the fire, both she and Fragile watching the flames come more to life. The reds and oranges danced in front of their eyes while they basked in the warmth. It made the cool air up in the high altitude more bearable.

“Does Sam know about me, about this whole ordeal?” Gene asked.

“No, no one does. I promised you I’d keep the Death Walkers and you a secret. Sam knows about the situation in full when it comes to Higgs, my half of it at least.” Fragile paused for a moment, her gaze falling over Gene as she studied her.

“I asked Sam to keep Higgs alive for me, should he face and take him down.”

Gene’s head shot up, surprise lit her eyes as Fragile gave a modest shrug.

“It’s not a guarantee Higgs will survive long enough for you to do anything, but--I thought about you when I asked Sam to help me with him.”

“Thank you,” Gene said sincerely, reaching a hand out and clasping it over Fragile’s gloved hand that was on the ground. Fragile glanced between their hands and Gene’s face, offering a small nod in return. She gently grasped Gene’s fingers before letting go.

“Gene, I wanted to ask you something. What did you do to Higgs back in Central Knot? I never got the chance to ask.”

Gene let out a puff of air, blinking a few times as she tried to retrace her steps. Remembering the battle wasn’t hard, but when she dived into Higgs, the memories were a blur. Like pieces of an intricate puzzle she had to put back together by memorization alone.

“Pride and the Walkers call it ‘diving’. It’s where you enter someone’s beach through their Ka, their soul. That bit of humanity I told you that was still in Higgs, I tried to pull it out. You can say that Higgs is literally drowning in his own personal hell. Pride mentioned that people who worked with powerful BTs were generally locked away in their beach while the BT controls their Ha. You know the stories of exorcisms in ancient traditions throughout cultures? Pride said a lot of that was inspired by this ability, the same with possession from the dead. I was close--if I had more time, I could have yanked him out of the ocean. Whatever powers the EE gave to Higgs, he’s so bonded to it that even that--woman, was able to kick me out, the EE.”

Gene could feel anger rise at that last part. Half of her jealous, the other upset with herself that she was too weak to save Higgs back then. Gene had plenty of time to train since the first fight and felt some of her confidence radiate in mind. Next time, like she promised Pride and Fragile, next time she’d succeed.

Fragile was about to say something when a buzzing noise came from her communication device. Furrowing her brows, she looked over at Gene apologetically.

“I’m sorry for the interruption, but that’s my cue. I need to make way to one of the small communities Sam recently connected, see if we can get more crew onto Fragile Express now that the company's reputation is starting to return.” Fragile got up and took out her umbrella, not before resting her hand on Gene’s shoulder. Gene looked up at Fragile with a sincere smile, as Fragile returned the favor.

“Rest and keep training. Don’t worry about things for now. Sam and I got it covered.” Fragile reassured.

“If you bump into trouble, you know how to get a hold of me.” Gene reminded her.

“Of course. I’ll see you in a few weeks unless something changes.” Fragile said, stepping away from Gene’s general area, giving a faint twist of the umbrella handle and jumped.

Now alone for now until Pride returned from a hunt, Gene took in a deep breath and closed her eyes after consuming a small amount of the ocasus plant that was in a cup by her side. After smacking her lips, face twitching from the tart taste, she put her mask on.

It wasn’t enough to send her Ka out of her Ha, but Gene could feel the different planes of existence, sensing how close things were if she concentrated hard enough. In a way, it was Gene's only method of keeping tabs on everything since she was so far from the action. Like Pride, she could mentally venture out far beyond the mountains and see the whole scope of America, able to zoom and hone in on a spot like a computer.

As Gene walked between this plane and the next above it, she tried to feel for Higgs. Back in her body, tears escaped her closed eyes as she felt desperate to reach him again.

Tagging: @deathstrandjng @evillpasta @kusooi @justfanjunk @lucyfer-thorn @septicteara12 @bl00dypalace @apocalyptic-demen @forksoffortune @starivaille @argetlam007

“I didn’t mean to startle you. Higgs, it’s almost time.” Amelie said gently, trying to coax Higgs out of his shell.

“What’s the fucking point?” Higgs asked as Amelie furrowed her brows, shaking her head.

“Higgs, I don’t know what you mean.”

“What did she do to me?” Higgs murmured as Amelie approached, cupping Higgs’s face. He barely peered up at Amelie as tears stroked down his face, smudging the bit of makeup he had on his eyes.

“Does it matter?” Amelie asked sincerely.

“If you must know, all she was doing, all she was attempting at, was taking you from here. Higgs, Gene was trying to sever our connection. She was going to take your powers away.”

Higgs looked up, glaring as he shook his head.

“No, she cannot do that. Not when I have so much to finish.”

“This--looks like my old one.” Higgs muttered as Amelie nodded.

“This won’t kill her, will it?” Higgs asked, shooting a glare towards Amelie as she shook her head.

“No, but it will give her the idea to back down. It’ll make her too weak to use her Ka against you.”

“We spooked Sam with the dream you conjured up, where I took that pretty necklace of yours.” Higgs started as Amelie nodded.

“No, before you encounter Sam out on the boundary line of Edge Knot City, you need to take care of Fragile.”

Higgs tensed as he glared, letting out a disgruntled huff. “What of her?”

Higgs chuckled amusingly. “Sounds like someone is jealous.”

“Is the particle of god having second thoughts?” Amelie questioned, sounding suspicious in tone as Higgs shook his head. His persona taking on a playful stance as he let out a laugh.

“Higgs,”