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itsredactedlove · 2 months

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Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 10

I LIVEEEEEEEEEE.

Sorry this took so long guys, I really wanted to take my time to prepare for the next big arc that's coming soon.

Also life got in the way.

But here it is,

Part 10!

Doing something a lil different this time, let me know what you guys think! Masterlist | Prev Part

~~~~

It’s a lot quieter these days. More peaceful.

Not that wasn’t peaceful before, but that peace was different, more charged.

Back then, he was recovering from Durin’s poison after all.

He lay alone in the ruins of Decarabian, waiting for his wounds to heal.

He may have been the Dragon of the East of Mondstadt's Four Winds.

But it was still painfully slow.

Emphasis on slow.

Even after the war was done and the battle had passed.

The mental wounds heal much slower than the physical ones.

So no, it was never truly peaceful, even when it was quiet.

He was asleep most of the time, but it didn't stop him from feeling the passage of time.

Didn't stop him from reliving that battle in his dreams.

That battle had been painful beyond words.

And not just from the poisonous blood.

Durin was a dragon.

Not a true dragon mind you, his form was synthetic and his powers false.

But,

He was still draconic, in a sense.

Far more draconic than the Vishaps that his people became.

And, well.

He was so young.

Even when they fought, he could tell that Durin was not used to flight.

Nor to the winds and freedoms of Mondstadt.

If it weren’t for the fact that his poisonous blood had already wreaked so much havoc, Dvalin would’ve tried reasoning with him.

Not that he didn’t in the first place.

For he did,

And, well

Durin was so painfully young,

So obviously innocent and clueless to the ways of the world.

He didn’t know that he was causing pain to those around him.

He didn’t even know that he himself was getting injured when they fought.

At the time it was infuriating.

This young arrogant creature causing havoc and fear all the whilst singing about a dance with him and the people of Mondstadt.

It wasn’t until they had started landing blows, when he realized the truth.

Durin didn’t know kindness from pain.

His cursed creator never bothered to give him the chance to learn what singing and dancing was.

No opportunities to know life without pain, without injury.

At first he thought they enjoyed the adrenaline of battle, the thrill of landing and receiving blows from a worthy opponent.

He soon realized that their fight may have been one of the only times that Durin had been touched.

That his heavy blows may have been the first bit of warmth this youngling had ever felt.

A child who’d never known love, would think violence and pain was the norm.

Unknowingly hurting those around him in search of connection.

He never had a chance.

When Davlin bit into his neck, he bit deep and he bit hard.

Hoping that it would make this quick and painless.

Hoping that after all this, Durin might be able to find some peace.

That they could perhaps find a new form to see the world.

To learn what it truly means to sing and dance with the people of Mondstadt.

He had wept for Durin,

Privately of course.

Whilst he did not want to hide Durin’s true nature from the world, he also knew that minds were difficult to change.

The people of Mondstadt saw only a terrifying beast with poison for blood.

A monster that had razed their lands and hurt their people.

How could he even begin to explain how none of it was intentional.

That Durin just wanted to make friends.

No,

They would not believe him,

Or even if they did, they would not understand, could not understand.

They were simply too human to see the woes of a dragon.

It was easier for everyone if,

Well,

If he kept his mouth shut,

And let the humans spin their tales as they see fit.

The trust of humans is hard won, especially for a dragon.

He had only received their trust at the word of their Archon, he could not afford to shake it, not during such turbulent times.

Barbatos’s word is powerful, but not all encompassing.

That is by choice,

He would not order his people to trust or accept anyone.

He would simply offer protection to those he deemed worthy.

Durin was not worthy.

To this day he is still unsure whether Barbatos knew of Durin’s true nature.

And well,

He doesn't want to.

Because, well.

He doesn’t know which would be worse.

If he didn’t, then that means one more person sees Durin as nothing more than a bloodthirsty evil dragon.

If he did,

Then,

Well,

Dvalin doesn’t want to jump to conclusions.

However, he can’t deny that he was far from peaceful back when he and Barbatos met.

He was nowhere the force of destruction Durin was, mind you.

It was simply that he had no love for humans.

They were no more important to him than the nearest squirrel or hog.

Barbatos was the one that taught him about the beauty in humanity.

As well as how to use his abilities to protect them.

If it weren’t for Barbatos giving him a chance.

Would he have ended up like Durin?

Would Barbatos have killed him, like he did to Durin?

Those were questions that plagued his mind whilst he was recovering.

The pain from his wounds and the poison didn’t help.

Not to mention Barbados had gone to sleep.

It was lonely.

His mental barriers were down, and that’s when the Abyss Order had decided to strike.

Taking advantage of his weakened state, and his doubts in his friends.

They turned him into what he feared he would become.

An evil dragon.

Just like Durin.

He thought Barbatos would abandon him.

Would order his death like he did Durin.

But he didn’t,

He trusted him.

Helped him.

Healed him.

Things are better now,

Now

Well,

Barbatos visits,

Sometimes

He never got the answer to his question, and he still daren’t ask.

But that’s alright.

Because Dvalin is not Durin.

Becuase he met Barbatos, and learned about humans.

Because he gained their trust and respect.

Because when he fell, they came and saved him.

Davlin no longer worries about having to prove himself worthy of their trust.

He is,

At peace.

A bit too peaceful actually.

The days of the Archon war were filled with patrols and meetings and well,

There was always something to do.

Now,

Barbatos may not be sleeping, but he rarely visits.

Andrius is occupied with his wolf pack.

Davlin is alone most of the time.

Barring the occasional adventurous human who travel to the ruins in order to gawk at him.

They should of course, he is magnificent.

But, well,

He wouldn’t be terribly upset if they’d gone up to him and struck up a conversation.

Not that he wants to converse with someone.

He is the mighty Dvalin, Erstwhile King of the Skies.

Not that there’s really much to rule over.

They are at peace after all

He can’t deny he missed the days of the action war, when he’d fly amongst the people and spend time with Barbados and Andrius and the rest.

Now that is all ancient history.

Not a living human remembers that time.

Well,

Depending on your definition of human.

Dvalin sighs, his breath echoing through the ruins of Decerrbian.

He could hear the bright chattering of hilichurls.

It seems that a couple more encampments have been set up during his last flight.

Hilichurls lack many qualities, but persistence was never one of them.

His ear twitched as he considered his next course of action.

He could chase them off.

Wouldn’t be hard at all, considering his power and their frailty.

But it wouldn’t solve anything would it, not in the long term.

They’d just be back again before long.

The tip of his tail twitched slightly with irritation.

From the outside, he looked the very picture of a sleeping dragon. His azure body curled up in an elegant sprawl, with his head resting on claws.

His eyes were closed, not that he needed them open to monitor the world around him.

As a creature of Anemo, the wind itself were his eyes. He could feel the vibrations of the world around him, it’s humming giving him a perfect sense of what is happening.

And it seems that one foolish hilichurl decided to try its luck today.

He felt the pitter patter of its feet as it approached his resting form.

The former Dragon of the East feigned sleep, and allowed the creature to lower its guard.

He let his breaths slow down, feigning sleep.

The light steps of a particularly adventurous hilichurl approaches his ears.

If he concentrates, he can feel the hum of the celestial curse placed on their body.

He always found it so ironic, that the biggest enemies humanity had to face were those that they created themselves.

A species so desperate for survival, whose greatest strength is in their tenacity and ability to cooperate.

A species whose greatest enemy is ultimately themselves.

Not that dragons did not have their own disputes.

At least, he’s fairly sure that they did.

He was never involved in any himself, having been born near the end of the war between Celestia and dragonkind.

Perhaps that’s what made him so different from the rest of his kin, beside the whole being alive and unsealed part.

He was too young to truly remember what life in Teyvat under the rule of dragons was like.

He remembers some things.

The air was much different, much wilder and ferocious, flying these days is akin to gliding.

Back then, the ability to fly was one hard fought and learned, one had to prove themselves to the wind that they were worthy of using their power.

The landscape was more jagged, more free. No neatly trimmed paths or smooth top mountains.

Most of all, the sky.

The sky was different.

There were no stars in the land of dragons.

Only the moon and sun.

A truly different time to be sure.

The sound of footsteps bring him out of his thoughts

Ah, yes the little monster approaches.

He is quite curious on what it plans to do, after all this was no abyss mage, simply a hilichurl, a cursed human.

A trespasser that he was free to deal with as he deems fit.

He can feel it getting closer, the faint hum of the celestial curse on their body gets stronger with every movement it makes.

The desire to tense in anticipation is strong, however the image of a peaceful sleeping dragon is integral for this ruse, tensing up would be too noticeable, especially at this distance.

A moment passes,

Then two.

What is the hilichurl even doing, they’re close enough to touch, yet they just stand their idly as if-

A diary hand reaches out and yanks on his whiskers.

Dvalin’s eyes fly open as he roars, flinging his head up in the air, the hilichurl with it.

His tail lashes out, smacking into one of the collapsed walls, sending puffs of dust and rock raining down.

He leaps to his feet, all pretense of sleep gone. It seems that that daring little monster decided it wanted to pull on his whiskers.

He could still see it dangling onto his through the corner of his eye.

Growling with anger, the Anemo dragon shakes his head furiously, summoning Anemo power to get this unwanted pest off of his body.

With a mighty gust, the hilichurl is dislodged, flying off of Dvalin’s whisker.

The screech of the hilichurl that pulled on his whiskers fades into the distance, as its body fades from view.

It seems he had flung it a lot farther than he thought. Considering his remarkable senses, the fact that he can no longer see, nor hear the little monster, well-

It was their decision to poke a sleeping dragon, or well, pull on one.

The other hilichurls, presumably from that same hilichurl’s camp, all scramble. Their screeches and grunts of panic filling the air.

No doubt hearing his rage at having his appendage pulled.

And rightfully so, the audacity to disturb the rest of the Erstwhile King of the Skies deserves nothing less than his anger.

He ignores the fact that technically he did allow it to get this close. As well as pretended to be asleep just to see what it would do.

Even so, the sheer disrespect cannot be overlooked.

With a couple beats of his wings, Dvalin takes to the sky, intent on scattering the rest of the hilichurls that have gathered in the ruins of Decarabian.

He does a couple of loops around the ruins, idly scattering the tribes that have settled there.

It didn’t take long before it was quiet once more.

Nothing more than the sounds of nature to fill his ears.

Quiet once more,

Until a small spark of energy catches his attention.

He peers over the edge of his platform to see the Barbatos and the blonde traveler with their flying companion.

How they managed to get here without him noticing is truly beyond him.

Regardless, it would be difficult for them to navigate up to him, from their position besides Barbato’s Statue of the Seven

The traveler turned their head to nod at him, whilst Barbatos leaned heavily on his statue, an empty wine bottle clutched in his arms.

He glides down to meet them, careful not to knock them off the platform with the wind.

As he approaches, he can smell the stench of alcohol wafting off of Barbatos.

Dvalin turned to the blonde traveler, “How much did he drink?”

They turned to him with dead eyes.

“He chugged the entire bottle,”

Dvalin sighed, the air hitting Barbatos, sending his cape into his face.

The wind spirit sputtered, waving his arms at Dvalin in annoyance.

“Hey, don’t judge me, I’ve had a difficult day,” he whined, face still flushed from the alcohol.

“Oh,” Davlin hummed judgmentally, “I can’t imagine what difficulties you must be facing,”

“He’s not wrong,” the Traveler defended, stepping forward.

The dragon turned his gaze to them.

The blonde haired figure sighed, most likely realizing that Barbatos was too drunk to participate in this conversation.

They opened their mouth and began to explain.

And the world, as he knew it

Changed

~~~

Masterlist | Prev Part

I honestly love the story of Durin and Dvalin, made me cry the first time I read it.

Durin's just such a tragic character, all of Gold's creations are to an extent.

This chapter truly is, the calm before the storm.

Ah well, as always my askbox is always open!

Thank you guys so much for reading!

Taglist:

@bunniotomia,@lucid-stories, @ymechi, @chocogi, @ra404, @ash1, @esthelily, @tottybear, @mmeatt, @quacking-simp, @reemthetheme, @universallyenthusiastsage, @resident-cryptid, @fantasyhopperhea, @thedevioussmirk, @etherisy, @naynayaa ,@mel-star636, @chericia, @aithane, @mmeatt, @xrosegorex, @amidst-the-tempest, @8-sinner-8, @reapersan, @elementalia ,@strangeygirl, @chaoticfivesworld, @scalyalpaca, @avalordream ,@ranshin03, @vvyeislazzy, @wishicouldart, @raykayrei,@izzieg3987, @time-shardz, @nugsanart09, @mavix,@beary-kalkus, @lunarapple, @keirennyx

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itsredactedlove · 2 months

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Genshin SAGAU where they hide in the Fortress Of Meropide in order to live a normal life. (2)

now that you got caught, he promised to keep your secret but... also shout out to @/udretlnea for a scene idea not proof read pt1

You stood there, frozen in shock that your identity was easily found out by him. "I-I..." you stuttered, not knowing what to say, "You must have a reason to stay in the shadows..." he added, inching even closer. Wriothesley's piercing stare made you uncomfortable as you just looked down.

"I-I just want to live a normal life..." you replied. It took a moment for him to respond, "You don't belong here, your Grace. To stay in this facility for years to come, I don't think that's living a normal life." He replied. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, "Please, no need to call me by that title." you told him.

"...You're finally looking at me." he mumbled as he stared at you. He couldn't believe it... It's you... The Creator. "You can't be here, you deserve to be out there. Exploring the world, your Grace..." he added. "No... I just... I just want to live a normal life so please just- just forget this ever happened-" you were cut off by him. "I'll take care of everything if that's what you wish, Your Grace... With your criminal record, I don't think people would bat an eye around you." he reassured you. You were quiet for a moment, thinking of a response...

"Your Grace?" the two of you turned around to see one of the Guards, "Um..." the guard looked at Wriothesley. You cleared your throat and looked away. Wriothesley let out a small laugh while the guard just looked confused but brushed it off. Before he walked up to the guard, he leaned in close to you, "Come to my office at 9." he whispered in your ear and soon left.

Creator! Reader whose sentence was cut short because of... well... his doing. Before you left the Fortress of Meropide, he gave you a bag of mora and a small hut on the mountains where Fontainians don't really go to. He reassured you that you would be given an allowance every week to which you were thankful of.

You just wished he was the last person to know of your identity...

Creator! Reader who does live a peaceful life outside the city of Fontaine, you do go there from time to time for groceries but you do it quick in order to not attract anyones attention. Basically living as a shadow.

You decided to go to the city today because of a merchant from Liyue is selling rice and other goods that you missed in your original life. You bought the things you needed as quick as possible, while walking to the exit, you notice three familiar people...

Oh shit! Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet!

You froze for a moment, you turned around but Freminet had already noticed you. You were about to run but- oh shoot a child infront of you!

You abruptly stop, resulting in you dropping to the ground. You could hear loud footsteps running up to you. "Umm... are you alright...?" you heard a quiet voice call out for you who turned out to be Freminet who held out his hand. Lyney and Lynette were picking up your groceries. You stared at him for a moment before grabbing his hand. He helped you stand up as you hissed in pain.

You looked at your hands to see the palm of your hands were grazed, and you notice the bits of... Golden blood showing... You could feel your heart drop to the floor. "Here are your groceries! You should be careful next time." Lyney spoke out as he handed you your groceries to which you were quick to snatch from him.

He didn't even get to say a word before you bowed and came off running. Lyney watched as you run away, "Huh... must be in a hurry." he mumbled. "They kind of look suspicious..." Lynette whispered to which Lyney just brushed off. While Lyney and Lynette were talking, Freminet stood there, frozen as he stared at his hand that held yours.

Bits of... Golden liquid were on his palm... Did this mean-

"Freminet! Come on, Lynette is bugging us to go already, there's a bake sale going on." Lyney called out his name, to which he flinched. "Oh... Um... I'll be right there!" he replied.

He glanced at the palm of his hand again, 'If they are the Creator... then... why are they hiding...?' he thought.

ill write a part 3 soon, ill wrap this whole story in part 3 :))

Tags: @uchihaeirin (did I do it right like the tagging?? ajdhlkej im new sorry lmaoo)

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itsredactedlove · 6 months

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The Cyborg's Apprentice Part 2

Summary: Reader finds a way out of serving the Sith. Or so they think.

Warnings: Reader goes on a mental health/self discovery journey, neck wounds, and trackers

Notes: Part 1 here.

Gn!reader, teen!reader, Sith!reader

Word Count: 4,031

Light rain pattered against the window, occasionally broken by a violent crack of lightning. They didn’t go together. The rain was barely more than a drizzle, one that children could dance in, but the lightning was fierce enough to make some adults cower in fear.

Ahsokah was neither an adult, nor a child. So instead of dancing or cowering, she studied. She’d found some interesting writings on meditation, and was trying her best to follow the steps. The soft rain helped her get into the zone, and the lighting was a good test of concentration.

One thing kept nagging at her. It had been quite a few days since she’d heard from you. Maybe you’d been found out, and Grievous had ordered that your conversations stop. There was another possibility, one she dreaded even more than the last. What if you had sunk even deeper into the dark side, and decided to cut off communication all on your own? You could be devotedly fighting against the Republic on some far-flung planet.

A peal of thunder rumbled outside, and she pulled herself back to her meditations. If you were countless parsecs away, there was nothing she could do.

Little did she know, the two of you were mere miles apart, and you were growing ever closer. Your hood stayed up over your head, concealing your face. With help from the Force, you managed to circumnavigate the security measures, and began ascending the side of the Temple.

When you reached the right window, you could see Ahsoka sitting there cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, with a scroll unrolled in front of her. The lights were on, just enough to read by. It was shockingly sparse. Only a bed, low to the ground, and a small table.

Hesitating, you raised your fist to knock on the window. What if this was a mistake? You coming here could endanger Ahsoka, get her in trouble with the Jedi Council, kicked out, even.

But… You needed her right now. There was nowhere else to go, no one else who could understand. So, you lightly tapped your knuckles against the transparisteel.

Her head darted towards the unexpected sound at the window, and when she saw you, her face was filled with confusion. She said something you couldn’t hear, and when you tried to tell her as much, she motioned for you to wait.

Turning, she picked up one of her lightsabers, and drove it into the window. Within a moment, a circular chunk was missing.

“Y/n?” She said, just barely loud enough to be heard.

“Hey 'Soka.” You said, then promptly tumbled through the hole. She grabbed you a moment before you hit the floor, and helped you sit against the wall.

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “It’s not safe for you!”

“I… I didn’t know where else to go.” At that moment, Ahsoka noticed that blood was trickling down your neck.

“Maker, Y/n.” She said, pushing your cloak out of the way so she could see the cut. “How did this happen? Who did this?”

“I did.” You said. “I had to. Grievous had a tracker implanted in my neck.”

Once she had stopped the bleeding from your neck, Ahsoka’s eyes darted over the rest of you. Your clothes were dirty and wrinkled, like they hadn’t been washed in a few days. You had a few minor scrapes and bruises, but you were tired. Every breath took effort, and your eyes were filled with fear.

“Y/n,” Ahsoka started, “How are you going to get back to Grievous’s ship?”

“I’m not going back.” You said. “I can’t go back.”

“Well, I can’t hide you here.”

“Tano, I would never ask you to.”

“What do you suggest I do?” She asked.

“Turn me in.” You said, and Ahoska gave you an astonished look. “It’s the only way you don’t get in trouble with the Council, and I stay safe from the Sith.”

A moment passed, one in which the two of you just sat, inches apart, taking in the gravity of the situation.

“Can we just have a few more moments?” She finally asked.

“Of course, ‘Soka.”

When Ahsoka called for the guards, they clapped specially-crafted Mandalorian manacles onto your wrists, and brought you to the medic, who patched up the back of your neck. They locked you in a small cell until the Council could be assembled. Waiting there was the worst part. It gave you plenty of time to sit and reflect.

Ever since your encounter with Ahsoka at the ruined temple, the two of you would avoid each other on the battlefield. One night, you received an encrypted message. It was just one short question.

Why did you let me go?

And you replied with the simple, honest, answer.

I don’t know.

From that point on, you become each other's confidants. Strategic information was never shared, since the consequences of espionage were much worse than simply fraternizing with the enemy, but more personal matters– doubts, dreams, dreads– were all fair game. Because of this, Ahsoka knew things about you that you wouldn’t dare tell anyone else and vice versa.

She first suggested you join the Jedi a few months after you started talking. Deep down, you knew what the Sith were doing wasn’t right, but years of conditioning and propaganda with just enough truth sprinkled in was hard to break away from. So you declined her offer.

Again, when you were stranded on a planet with her, she brought up the idea. She even suggested you could fake your death and go back to the Temple with her. It was tempting, and she had convinced you that the Sith were doing more harm than good. Ultimately, the idea didn’t pan out.

You were pulled out of your reminiscing when the guards came to escort you to the Council Chamber. The twelve Jedi Masters were seated in a circle, and you were guided to the middle.

“Y/n y/l/n.” Began a man with dark skin and a bald head. “We know you are a Separatist, and the apprentice of General Grievous. You have fought against the Republic and the Jedi Order for years, taking down waves of our troops and foiling countless missions. Today you are brought before the Council in a strange turn of events including but not limited to breaking into the Jedi Temple.”

“Your side,” Said a short shriveled green man, “You now must tell us.”

“I was a Separatist,” You said, “But I have turned against Grievous and the entirety of the dark side of the force. I wish to study at the Jedi Temple, but I understand you have your reservations, and that it is a real possibility that I will spend the rest of my days in a cell.

“For now, the CIS are unaware that I have defected, but when they do figure it out, they will hunt me down. I have only one request: Wherever you lock me up, make sure it has the best of security.”

“We will see.” The bald man said. “We have further questions. Why did you go to Ahsoka Tano?”

“She and I met before, during multiple battles.” You replied simply, casting a glance towards the door, where Ahsoka was standing with her master Anakin. “And I felt that our similarity in age would help me gain her trust.”

The questioning went on for a little while longer, until, satisfied with your answers, the green man spoke.

“A moment we must have,” He said, “To discuss. Back to your cell, you will go. Call you we will, when a decision we have reached.”

On your way out, you exchanged the briefest of glances with Ahsoka. A look of thanks passed between the two of you, like Ahsoka grateful you did not bring up your secret correspondence.

Not too long later, you were called back to the Council Chamber.

“It has been decided that you will be welcomed into the Order,” Said the bald jedi, who you learned was Mace Windu. “You will live here, and be trained in the light side of the force.”

“Thank you!” You said, a smile spreading across your face.

“Padawan Tano and Master Kenobi, you should thank.” Said Yoda. “Spoke on your behalf, they did.”

“Understand that there are caveats to this agreement.” Master Windu continued, “You will stay on the Temple grounds with supervision at all times. You will not be allowed access to your lightsabers, or communication to anyone outside the Temple.”

“Of course,” Obi Wan jumped in, “You will also provide us with any and all future CIS plans.”

“Of course.” You nodded, just happy they weren’t shipping you off to a prison planet, or executing you here and now. Once the rules were all laid out, they had the guards show you to your room. It was as bare as Ahsoka’s, except it was equipped with a security camera, and the windows were too small to fit through.

A short time later, Ahsoka joined you. She brought some robes and some scrolls for you, along with dinner.

“Honestly,” She said as the two of you sat cross legged on the floor, “I was surprised they let you in.”

“Me too.” You said, scooping up a bite from your bowl. “I thought the whole ‘fighting against you all in a war’ thing would’ve given them a bit more pause.”

“Yes, that,” Ahsoka agreed, “But also, you’re really old.”

“Excuse me?” You raised an eyebrow at her. “I am, like, a few months older than you at most.”

“I know that, Y/n,” She scoffed, “What I meant is that Anakin is one of the oldest people they’ve agreed to train, and even then there were some grumblings about it.”

“Well,” You shrugged, “They already agreed. Can’t go back now!” You had another bite. “How old was Anakin? I can’t be that much older.”

“He was nine.”

“Oh.”

Ahsoka left to go to bed, but said she’d be back in the morning to take you to breakfast and show you around the Temple.

“I’ve got a few day’s shore leave,” She said as she was leaving, “But after that I’ve gotta keep kicking Separatist butt.”

True to her word, the next morning she was in your room right as you finished getting dressed.

“Do you know where I should put these?” You said, holding up your old Sith robes. The red and black patterning stood out harshly against the soft neutral colors of the room.

“The laundry basket’s in the closet.” She said, nodding her head in its direction. “Let’s go, we’re burning daylight here. The sun’s been up for nearly a half hour! By the time we get to the Refectory, all the good food’s gonna be gone.”

Just as Ahsoka predicted, there was no good food left. After breakfast – which wasn’t all that bad – Ahsoka brought you to a quiet, dimly lit room, then left. Inside was a small group of people, mostly children, seated in a circle around an older Jedi.

She beckoned you to an empty cushion on the ground, and briefly explained that they were practicing silent meditation, and that the goal was to completely quiet your mind and body.

One of the conditions of your staying here was getting some training to combat the Sith teachings, so here you were, meditating cross-legged with a class of children. The silence sank into your bones, at first you tried to fight it, but when it eventually settled, you found yourself with a strange sense of peace.

You did as the instructor said, and whenever a thought or feeling entered your mind you acknowledged it, and let it drift away. For a moment you felt the anger and pain drift away, too. It was like a weight had been eased off your mind.

But when your concentration wavered, the weight settled on you once more.

After meditation the older Jedi led your group to the refectory. Ahsoka met up with you there. In the afternoon neither you nor Ahsoka had any obligations, so you spent it in the gardens. There, you saw a Jedi digging through the dirt holding a plant with wide heart-shaped leaves. The edges faded to green, while the rest was a pleasing pinkish red.

“Oh hello!” Said the Jedi, straightening up from his work, “Have you come to help out in the garden?”

“Uh…” You glanced at Ahsoka, unsure what to say.

“We would love to.” She said. So that afternoon was spent working peacefully in the garden. The Jedi you were working with was old, like your meditation instructor. He had the odd tendency to be silent for many minutes, state something completely out of the blue, and immediately go back to silence.

“Gardening used to be a popular activity among the Jedi.” He said, “Everyone from Younglings to geezers like me would be up here, digging through the dirt.” He said wistfully, “But that was before the war. Now we’ve got children out there fighting. It’s just us old folks holding down the fort here. Keeping the Younglings learning and such. You two are the only teenagers I’ve seen around here in a long time.”

“I will be here for a while.” You said, “If that’s any consolation.”

“Hm.” He grunted, and pleasant silence descended again.

And so went your days. Dinners with Ahsoka cross-legged on the floor, classes in restraining anger, teaching morality, and afternoons in the gardens, and weekly check-ins with the Jedi Council. You were still getting into the groove of things, when one night Ahsoka told you she had to leave.

“Wait what?” You asked, nearly choking on the bite of food in your mouth, “Already? It’s only been a few days!”

“I know,” Ahsoka said, “I know, but this war still needs fighting.”

“Do you at least know when you’ll be back?” You asked, eyes downcast and voice full of sadness.

“No.” Ahsoka saw the look in your eyes, she continued, “But your information has been invaluable. We’re winning, Y/n. The end is in sight. Soon no one will have to fight.”

“Yeah.” You said. “That’s… Comforting I guess. I just wish that I could talk to you, while you’re gone.”

“We could ask the Council to make an exception to the ‘no outside contact’ rule,” She suggested, “Say that you need someone your age to talk to.”

“That might work,” You said, “I’ll still miss you though.”

“I know. I’ll miss you, too.”

You were granted permission to talk with Ahsoka while she was gone. Nothing about her locations or missions, and they read all your messages before sending them, but it meant you got to preserve the friendship.

When she finally returned, it was like you were a different person. You happily wore the brown robes, tended the gardens, meditated, and lived without fear. The lessons you had been taught were sinking in, and the peace that came with them washed over every aspect of your life.

The moment she got back, Ahsoka started looking for you. She found you in the gardens, watering and digging. Your entire demeanor had shifted. You carried yourself like you knew you belonged, and yet humbly. You dutifully attended to your work, and Ahsoka felt more at peace simply being in the same room as you.

“Y/n.” She said. You poked your head up from the bushes, and smiled at her.

“Hey Tano.” You said, brushing your hands off against your robe and standing up, “I’m glad to see you again.”

The two of you walked through the Temple together, talking for hours.

“You…” She started, “I’ve only been gone a few weeks, but you seem so different now. Happier.”

“That’s because I am.” You said, “Happier, that is. I’m finally discovering peace.”

“Good.” She smiled at you, “Because you deserve it.”

The night before Ahsoka left again, she brought you dinner.

“Hey Y/n.” She said, holding a greasy bag up, “I brought you some food from Dex’s, since refectory food is all nutrition, hold the flavor.” Just like that first night, you sat on the floor of your room, and talked late into the night.

“Imma miss you.” You said as Ahsoka was just about to step through the door.

“I know,” Ahsoka paused, “But I have some good news. My friend Barriss Offee’s gonna be here for a bit. I think you’ll like her.”

And sure enough, you and Barriss hit it off. She was a little older than Ahsoka, and was able to give you some guidance. She often joined you in the garden, or for meditation.

She was interested in your swap from the Seperatist’s side, perhaps a little too interested. She often asked about what you were taught as a Sith, which made you uncomfortable. Whenever that came up you steered the conversation away.

It was probably just her naturally investigative personality. That's another thing you liked about her, she was smart. You could point to any plant, painting, or carving in the Temple and she knew something interesting about it.

Occasionally, she would share her doubts about the Order with you. It reminded you of your secret correspondence with Ahsoka, back before you joined the Jedi, so you indulged her. Her concerns were similar to those Ahsoka had, mostly centered around the war, but they were different. These weren't just lamentations that the world was messed up and the Jedi Order needed reform, they were more like subtle hints that the Order itself was the problem.

It was almost like she was probing you to see if you shared these beliefs. You brushed it off the first few times, but as the hints became less subtle, and her ideas less like ideas and more like plans, you resolved to tell the Council at your next weekly check in. It was just a few days away. In the meantime, you compiled all the worrying things you’d heard Barriss say so you could show them to the Council.

The day finally came, and as you walked down the hall to the Council Chamber, you had your head buried in a tablet, going over what Barriss said one last time. You tucked it away just before entering the room.

It was dark. The room was empty, except for one man lurking in the shadows. He stepped forward, and you saw it was Obi-Wan.

“They thought it would be better if you heard it from me,” he said. You were close with Obi-Wan, and often sought him out for advice. He stuck up for you during the Council’s private discussion, since he truly believed in you.

“Master Kenobi,” You said, “Is everything okay? Where are the other Masters? Is Ahsoka in trouble–”

“No,” He interrupted, “She’s fine. I’m here to return these to you.” He opened a small box, which contained your Sith robes. They seemed familiar and yet out of place. Just a relic of a part of your life that was long gone.

“Why would I need these?” You asked. Kenoi stayed silent. Searching for an answer, you looked at his face. His eyes were filled with regret and resolve.

“I’m so sorry.” He said.

“Why would I need these?” You asked again, voice more serious.

“You are part of a prisoner exchange.”

“No.” You shook your head, “No, I can’t go back. I’m not going back! They’ll kill me! Master Kenobi please-”

“They don’t know you defected.” He said, once again interrupting you.

“Then where do they think I was?” You questioned.

“As far as they know, you were imprisoned by the Republic.”

“How is this fair?” You spat, “I betrayed the CIS, the Sith, and everyone I used to know for a chance at joining the Order, and this is how it repays me? By manipulating me to get all the information it needed and then sending me back to the very same evils I fled?

“The Jedi Council never manipulated you.” Obi-Wan said, his voice infuriatingly serene and steady.

“Really?” You scoffed. “You imprisoned me, and didn’t even bother to let me know. I trusted you.”

Your voice lowered to barely above a horse whisper.

“You let me believe I had a future here.”

“I thought you did, too.” He said, “I’m sorry.”

“Can I at least say goodbye?” You asked after a moment of silence. Tears started to gather in the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“No.” He replied. “We have to leave now.”

You nodded, and followed him to a transport shuttle. It took about a day of travel to get to the exchange point. First you took a small shuttle, then a larger ship, a landing pod, and finally you rode on the back of Cody’s speeder. The whole time you didn’t utter a single word.

It was a remote planet. Just farms with little to no strategic value. You were wearing your Sith robes once more, and your arms were shackled behind you to align with your ‘prisoner of war’ story. You’d gotten there before Grievous, so you leaned against the bike while the clones and Obi-Wan sent out snipers to stay hidden in the surrounding hills’ shrubbery. The long grass rippled in the slight breeze, and the sun beat down. A few wispy clouds drifted lazily across the sky as the minutes ticked by.

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the CIS finally showed up. Their speeders kicked up a storm of dust, which could be seen from miles away, even with the rolling hills. They slid to a halt on the other edge of a dusty clearing in perfect formation; Grievous at the center, flanked by a v shape of commando droids.

The metallic General dismounted, pulled a tied-up Jedi from the back of his bike, and shoved him to a droid. Cody started to grab your arm to lead you forward, but you shoved him off of you and affixed a look of disdain to your face.

Back when you first met him, this attitude would have come naturally, but now, after learning empathy, you actually felt bad for the clones. They didn’t ask to be soldiers. They never had a choice. But you couldn’t think about that right now. You had to keep up the guise of a disgruntled young Sith, complete with eye-rolling and sneers.

Cody walked you halfway across the patch of dusty ground while a droid brought over the captured Jedi. After confirming that the Jedi was alright, Cody signaled to Obi-Wan, and the exchange was confirmed. Before you left, Cody passed you a box containing your lightsabers. As you were rushed to the Separatist speeders, you dared to cast a final glance back at the Republic forces.

They were too busy welcoming their returned friend to even look at you.

“Each time you find yourself scooped up by the Republic reflects poorly on me.” Grievous continued berating you as the commando droids loaded the bikes onto the shuttle. “Have you learned nothing? When will you stop allowing yourself to be snatched by these pieces of Republic scum?”

“Those reflections are deserved!” You spat back. “You seem to forget that it is your job to teach me to fight. Instead you’re too busy chasing down Kenobi for some personal feud that he doesn’t even seem to know (much less care) about.”

Those words hung in the air for a moment.

“Ha.” He laughed hollowly, “Perhaps you have learned something.” He then climbed into the shuttle. You knew he expected you to follow, but you could tell your emotions were reaching a boiling point. Instead of thinking about leaving Ahsoka without saying goodbye, or how the council betrayed you, you changed the sadness into blind rage.

The wood of a nearby tree splintered as though an invisible hand crushed it. You looked at your hands, squeezed into fists so tight that your nails broke the skin, and realized that had been you. You had unintentionally channeled the Force. Slowly, you loosened your fists, and a few splinters fell away from the tree trunk.

From that day on, anger would be your fuel, and it would serve you well.

Tag!!! (You're it)

@thegirlinrainbowsworld

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itsredactedlove · 1 year

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Gnaw (6)

The bottom of the ocean is a cold, dark place. There is no light here, other than the faint glow of many bioluminescent markings on Osial's body. The sun's heat has never reached this deep, and the cold is so intense that you've shivered yourself to death repeatedly.

But with each death, you adapted. The icy temperature of these depths no longer mattered.

The crushing pressure of the deep ocean that once threatened to splinter your bones and crush you into a meatball now had no effect.

Gills just below your ribs filter oxygen into your body now that your lungs are useless.

"Great Storm, what are you thinking on so intensely?" Osial asks. "You have been silent and still for nearly three days."

You tell your newfound friend that you might have an idea of how to leave, but it will require his help.

"Of course. How may I serve my Creator?"

You ask for a bit of his flesh and explain that you gain energy from eating or from exposure to the elements.

You've already spent three days impaled through with stone spears at the bottom of the sea - you've probably absorbed plenty of energy and just need a catalyst.

His heads argue over who will be donating the required offering, but eventually settle on letting the central head bite off the very tip of its tongue.

A bit of glowing blue tongue drifts lazily on the currents and towards you. It's a chunk of flesh the size of a glass bottle, oozing a dark blue fluid.

You reach out with your unpinned arm and grip it, briefly cringing when it squirms in your grasp.

Once it's close to your mouth, you open up and bite into it quickly. This also means that you get some seawater into your mouth along with the bit of meat.

Gross.

The god-flesh isn't particularly appetizing, either. As you do your best to chew it, it writhes and twitches in your mouth. The taste is ponderously bland, though faintly fishy, and you're more than a little unsatisfied.

It takes you more time than you'd like to consume it, but once the last of it goes down, a feeling begins to flow through you.

A new sensation. Like there's a part of you that's just lost the pins-and-needles from being slept on and is back to normal.

Not just that, either. You feel revitalized, like the pains of your body are far away. You plant your palms against the seafloor, dig your fingers into the sands, and begin to rise. Osial looks delighted.

The spears of stone dig into your flesh, but you will not give up now. How can you? You feel unstoppable.

Electro energy arcs across your body and up the monstrous pillars, scorching them with such heat that they briefly glow.

You may be buried beneath the weight of a mountain... but faith can move mountains.

Through labored breathing, you ask what Osial desires most in the world.

"To sink Liyue to the bottom of the ocean, and see Morax take my place in the darkness below the waves eternally."

More personal than that.

"To hold Beisht, my beloved, in my embrace again."

...more achievable from his current position?

"Oh. Freedom, of course. To not bear these ridiculous spears in my back any longer."

And then, that new part of yourself flares to life. You smile through the pain of saltwater against open wounds and tell him you can manage that.

(Anemo smiles, eye glowing in the heart of the storm. A new bearer already? You're so kind.)

Mondstadt's suffering comes to an end, the haze of nightmarish heat finally lifting... but the winds are not the same.

The scent of sickness and rot no longer carries on the breeze because the breezes are so much milder.

Anemo visions dim, and then flare much brighter.

Less than an eighth of Mondstadt's population had succumbed to the heat, but many had become sick from an outbreak of food poisoning and the rapid onset of heat exhaustion. Others had become ill in the process of burying loved ones.

Their cries for aid went unanswered, and Venti's faith had been deeply shaken.

If their prayers were not reaching you... then who had they been worshipping all this time?

(He receives no answer, only the sounds of mourning on the wind as Mondstadt begins to burn the diseased dead.)

You stand at the bottom of the sea, hand against a stone spear weighing down Osial.

The electro in your body was refined and stretched into an axe, which you now used to hack away at the first pillar.

Every minute or so, you have him move slightly to see if the weight is becoming more manageable.

After four hours, each of them has been weakened enough for him to push off if he wasn't exhausted. Which he is.

You reach for your new power and then to Osial. Across the world, Anemo visions glow faintly. In Zapolyarny Palace, the Gnosis of the Anemo Archon unwinds into a soft breeze and vanishes.

Words come to your lips unbidden, a recital from a time you've forgotten.

"Noble beast. I, your maker, wish to form a pact with you."

Osial looks at you curiously, and then again in surprise when the Anemo Gnosis appears in your hand.

"You have shown me kindness in this dark place and given me the power to unbind us both.

You have been imprisoned beneath the waves for centuries by the one you hate the most, away from your lover, your goals just within reach but lost to you.

I have been hunted across the land I have traveled by traitorous mongrels and then abandoned here to rot alongside you.

With one look, you knew it was me. With but a single glance, you understood who now was at your side.

Your fealty to me is so very valuable, especially now."

You hold out the Anemo Gnosis in his direction.

"Become my Anemo Archon. The true God of Storms, and the symbol of destruction for all those who would rise against me."

He laughs with all five heads.

"I accept, my maker. The skies will be mine, and all who breathe beneath them will know you with reverence or know nothing ever again."

"This pact is sealed."

The sea burns bright with teal and blue light and then erupts into a monstrous storm, a hurricane screaming to life as a massive beam of energy pierces the heavens and vaporizes Guyun Stone Forest.

A new lord of the skies erupts from the sea with a joyous scream, stone pillars falling from his back, feathers and scales colored brilliantly.

"MORAX! I will have your head as a trophy for the All-Maker and your flesh as my meal! Face me and die, or watch me tear this miserable collection of insects apart like the coward you are!"

On his back is you, and in your eyes is a hunger for vengeance.

Your power fills the hurricane. Vast blades of lightning ready to fall at your command. Screaming winds coalesce around Osial. Arcs of plasma line his new fangs.

Liyue will pay for its actions, and the two of you will be collecting with interest.

((Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @fried-lotud @acacla @itz-luna @iruiji @crierofirony @itsredactedlove @sweetsthetik @leafanonsforest @oxyotl @kkazuyass @featuredtofu @resident-cryptid @d4y-dr3am3r @crimson-ashes @red1sg0n3 @the-real-fandom-person @code-roevember @yourlocalsourwolf @rhoswen-drake @minimari415 @reversearrowhead @call-me-shroom @evqnescents @valeriele3 @mochicurls21 @sinnful-darling @fleshdotmp4

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itsredactedlove · 1 year

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Gnaw (2)

(Warnings: same as the previous chapter, found here.)

One of the largest issues with going from a simulated Teyvat to an actualized Teyvat is the sheer size.

The bridge outside of Mondstadt, which takes the Traveler like fifteen seconds to cross in a sprint? That's a good two minutes of walking at the least.

The rest of Mondstadt is massive, too, of course, but it's absolutely gorgeous. Perfect grass, clear rivers and ponds, rather imposing cliffs...

Maybe the people are a little unfriendly, but hey! The land itself makes up for your now-in-the-negatives social life.

Besides, this much air and sunlight are probably a good thing. You aren't too hot, there isn't like half of a forest worth of pollen up your nose, the breeze is really nice, and nobody's come to try and maul you!

As far as sightseeing tours go, this ain't the best. But it'll do.

Plus, you're pretty sure that the theoretical tour guide probably wouldn't let you pull up all the dandelions you wanted and blow on them to make their seeds go everywhere.

There's a faint gnaw in the pit of your stomach. You've eaten some berries, a carrot you found in a crate, and another Sunsettia, but you just can't shake the feeling.

The best way your mind can think to describe it is that your teeth are dissatisfied. You didn't do enough with this meal. It just sorta happened.

Perhaps you're going insane.

(On a distant cliff, the wind brings your breathing to an Archon, who sets down his lyre and raises a bow.)

There is a faint whistle on the air, one you swear you've heard before. Then it hits you - the sound of an arrow!

By some instinct, you hurl yourself aside, slamming into the grass and dirt.

A brilliant arrow is lodged into the ground at an angle that would have firmly made itself at home in the back of your skull. Had you not just launched yourself aside, you would be dead.

And then you hear another whistle.

You scramble up onto your feet and take off in a dead sprint. Anemo-powered arrows narrowly miss you four times as you zig-zag and duck behind stones or trees.

...you think you know who this is, or at least have a damn good idea.

Venti. Barbatos. Tone-deaf bard. Alcoholic lyre dude. That one.

You curse him out under your breath. The arrows seem to be coming faster all of a sudden.

The next arrow doesn't come down with a whistle. It comes down with a scream. The Anemo-charged arrow, cloaked in a blade of wind, pierces your back and launches you through the woodlands with enough force to demolish trees like matchsticks.

You skid to a stop, a fine path of devastation and upturned soil behind you, and your head lolls up on a shattered neck to stare blankly into the sky as you slip away into darkness.

(Dendro hisses at the other elements, their vast roots curling in anger. "We should have kept them out until this was solved!"

The others say nothing. Talking will do little to protect you, and those who raise their hands against you must be punished.)

Barbatos has a nightmare that night, after killing the one who stole the face of the World-Shaper.

He has been torn from his false face, cast into the heart of a vast hurricane, the wind itself screaming in hatred and rage, every whisper now purely poisonous. Every failure mocked, every mistake repeatedly shoved into his face, and every sin accounted for.

The wind wails, slipstreams like claws raking across his elemental flesh, battering him as he's tossed from gust of wind to gust of wind.

(He is unaware that to any observer, it would look like he was a rather hated captive ball in the world's most esoteric pinball machine.)

A voice tears itself from the monstrous storm around him, echoing in the bone-shuddering blasts of thunder.

Vile little wisp! You would dare to raise a hand against the divine most holy, our maker?!

He doesn't understand, and any chance he'd have to think or speak is repeatedly knocked from his head as he crashes into walls of wind firm enough to be stone.

Immense pressure crushes down around him, stalling him in place as if grasped in the enormous hand of a titan, and he cries out at it squeezes.

He looks up as he tries in vain to wriggle and flee, and he sees. Every part of him freezes in horror.

I am Anemo. The embodiment of sky, of breath. I am the Taker of Voices.

He is brought closer to the core of light at the center of the apocalyptic current.

I had such hope for you. A God of Freedom, one who would see the oppressed liberated from their miseries! One who would cast the sadness and hatred from his people to the winds, where they would be forgotten!

One who would spread the laughter of the First Breath to all corners of this world.

One who would be their protector, hearing misfortune on the winds and striking down those who would spell disaster for us all with the wrath of a great storm.

But you have failed. You have taken up arms against the one you were made to cherish with hatred in your heart.

You have forgotten your own freedom. The freedom to think for yourself, to act without orders. To go against what is known down a new path.

He cries out as some kind of tether is cut from his body, ripped away into the vortex.

You are my Archon no more. I shall find one more suitable to the task.

Perhaps in time, the Maker will find you pitiable enough to reinstate you as my envoy to Teyvat.

Enjoy your freedom, Venti of Mondstadt.

He plummets, the wind abandoning him entirely. The ground opens, a ravenous maw, stones and bedrock ground down like sharp fangs, and he falls into a lightless darkness.

He wakes, screaming and sobbing in equal measure.

He cannot feel the wind. He cannot hear it.

At his side, the light of the false Vision gutters out, dimming until not even a spark of Anemo remains within.

(Within a frozen palace, the light of the Anemo Gnosis dulls, waiting for a host to be chosen anew.)

consciousness returns to you in bits and pieces, your entire body an immense ache. Your joints are so sore you can barely move them without feeling the urge to weep.

Your nose is filled with the scent of the ocean. You can hear waves, and ever so faintly, the calls of birds. You feel safer here, somehow, as though this place is devoid of other intelligent beings.

Your eyes close again, body exhausted and unable to resist the siren call of unconsciousness in a space without threats.

On your back is a new scar, a spiral of gold starting between your shoulderblades and reaching out towards your ribs.

(Gnaw Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche @itsredactedlove @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20

Thank you all very much for your interest.)

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