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superblysubpar · 3 months

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<- part five | part seven -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: Is the game over?

the song: Pretty Please by Dua Lipa

also for your listening pleasure: Need You Tonight by INXS, Drive by The Cars, and...any guesses?

4,377 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of scars / brief mentions of alcohol-being sober / SPICE/SMUT - fingering (reader receiving), hand job (reader performing), semi-public but not “caught” or visible | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

“Hey,” he greeted you.

Like it was normal.

Like he’d done it hundreds of times before.

Steve Harrington stood on the sidewalk in front of The Hawk, smiling at you. A timid, tight lipped one, with hands shoved into the front pocket of his Levi’s.

You nodded your head, trying and failing to look anywhere but him, scuffing the toe of your sneaker against the sidewalk. His hair much longer than the last you spoke, curled around his ears and neck, a few pieces falling over his forehead. Broad shoulders and long legs, scruff dotting his jaw.

He leaned against the brick building now, hand removing his keys from his pocket so he could throw them and catch them, loop the ring around his finger and spin it. He looked at you and raised his eyebrows, “They’re late.”

You mistook it as a question, answering agitated with a glare down the empty main street, “Yeah, they’re always late,” you sighed, then clarified,

“I’m meeting some friends.”

Steve blinked at you, and then laughed, but covered it with a cough, rubbing at his jaw. “Yeah, me too.”

Your shoulders rose at the thought, snarky Tommy and bitchy Carol who were sure to say something nasty to you and ruin your whole night. The awful pair showing up, while you were alone with Steve Harrington was not how your Friday night was supposed to go.

“Not Tommy and Carol,” Steve spoke softly to the tension filled shoulders in front of him, swallowing thickly, “Not friends with them anymore.”

“Wow,” you crossed your arms, shielding yourself from memories and any possible outcome of this conversation, “Must have done something really high on the asshole meter for them to drop you.”

Steve’s lips twitched when you looked at him, a slight smirk, a shoulder shrug before he admitted, “You could say that.”

Your shoulders relaxed but your arms stayed wrapped around you, squeezing yourself when Steve’s tongue slipped out over his top lip before he gestured to you, gaze unwavering from your face. “Ya know, I don’t think we’ve talked since-“

“Sorry! Sorrysorrysorry!” Robin was running down the sidewalk, waving her hands and panting. Eddie was a few steps behind her, looking at you worried and with his hands in his leather jacket’s pockets.

“Eddie would like it known that he was not late, and that it was entirely my fault. But I could not find a pair of socks for the life of me and then the pair I found I couldn’t wear with my shoes and-“

“Robin,” you laughed, interrupting the explanation that had no end in sight, “I told you the movie started a half hour before it did, you’re right on time.”

She gasped, and pointed an accusatory finger at you but then frowned, turning to the boy still leaning against the brick. “But Dingus told me the same time.”

Steve stood up straight and walked over slowly, explaining, “I did the same thing. Great minds think a like, I guess.”

You stared at him. He stared at you. Your mouth parted to say absolutely not, hell no, over your dead body or some form of: you are not going to a movie with Steve Harrington, but Robin clapped and said, “Well, that popcorn’s not gonna eat itself!”

She smiled at you nervously and then spun, grabbing Steve’s arm and pushing him towards the line in front of the ticket booth.

Leaving Eddie to face your wrath alone. His cheek pulled between his teeth and big, sorry eyes blinked at you as he leaned in with an offered hand, “You can squeeze it every time you feel like punching him.”

You laced your fingers with his and squeezed as hard as you could until Eddie was shrieking, “Sweetheart! I have to play tomorrow, don’t break the money makers.”

Steve looked over his shoulder to see you laughing, holding Eddie Munson’s hand.

Family Video - Friday

Steve Harrington kisses like you thought he would.

Not that you’d thought about kissing him.

He’s confident and practiced, as his lips slip over yours, slotting together like you’d done it before. He’s a little eager, messy, hands squeezing at your hips as his tongue begs you to open for him. He’s unable to shut up, even when his mouth is preoccupied, a groan from his throat, a sigh from his nose against your cheek, a gasped pant of your name against your lips.

You kiss him like he didn’t expect.

You’re a little mean, which, okay, maybe he should have guessed that. Fingers tugging his hair in a way you couldn’t possibly know he likes but do as your teeth nip at his bottom lip. You’re needy with it, desperate, maybe frantic is the right word - mouth opening for him eagerly, hands slipping from his hair and tugging on his shirt collar, noses squished together when you kiss him with more power.

Both of you stumble backwards, Steve’s hands roaming so one can support your back and the other drifts lower, grazing over your thigh, past the hem of your dress to your knee, lifting your leg so it’s hitched on his hip as you fall backwards on top of the table.

He wishes he could have recorded the sound you made when the new position has you feeling how hard he is pressed up between your spread legs. His hand lays flat on the table, slipping on scattered papers as yours cling to his neck so you can roll your hips against the bulge of his Levi’s.

“We-fuck,” Steve speaks into your mouth, breath hitching when your back arches and you sigh underneath him again, “We should-“

“Stop talking, Harrington,” you breathe into his mouth, fingers drifting to between the buttons of his polo.

He kisses you with increased urgency, a clash of lips and tongue and teeth while the fingers on your knee squeeze. A large hand skates up your thigh, taking the red cotton with it. You whimper when it stops at your hip, thumb swiping over the exposed skin, brushing at lace. He’s seeing stars behind his closed lids, mixed with images of pink lace beneath his sweatshirt. He needs to breathe, to wave the white flag, to talk about this.

His thumb drags over the lace, following the crease of your thigh, as you gasp into his mouth the word please.

He’ll breathe later.

Steve’s thumb finds wet lace and travels higher with precision and care that has your stomach dropping, flipping, and filling with warmth. Like you’re about to face a big fear, about to do something really stupid but exhilarating.

About to feel Steve Harrington’s fingers on you where you’ve always wanted them but would never admit.

And then the door chimes and someone is calling out about a deliver from somewhere that feels far away and also incredibly too close.

Steve jumps off of you, gasping for air as you shove at his shoulders.

His hair is messier than usual, and all you can think about is how good it felt beneath and between your fingers. Cheeks pink and pupils blown have pride shooting through your veins like a drug. Lips kiss slick and swollen and your stomach aches that they’re not on you anymore. A noticeably tight crotch of his jeans that has your chest sparking and fizzing and your legs clamping closed when his hand rubs at it.

You jump off of the table, and Steve’s cock twitches when you seem a little wobbly, a little dazed. A strap of cherry red fallen from your shoulder, chest heaving and begging for his lips and teeth to devour it. Lips glossy and eyes glassy reminding him of the word please.

“I,” you gasp, “I have…”

You’re gone, without finishing the thought, racing out of the back room, and only pausing long enough to grab your bag.

Steve races past a delivery guy who blinks at him, bored, when he flashes a one second finger at him.

He follows you right out of the store and into the parking lot, calling your name and begging you to stop.

You do, facing him timidly, hands shaking.

Steve takes a step closer to you, forehead furrowed and looking like a kicked puppy as you avoid eye contact and gesture to the store.

“I’ll…I’ll do the shipment unloading tomorrow morning. You can lock up and go home, I’ll-“

“Where are you going? We need to talk about-“

“No,” you close your eyes when he takes another step towards you, holding up your hand.

“Yes,” Steve says strongly, fingers slipping around your wrist when your palm meets his chest.

Your eyes open to find your fingers close to the polo’s buttons you just undid, the bob of his adams apple and jaw clenched, the stare coming from honey eyes intent on trapping you and keeping you stuck there.

“No,” you say more confidently than you feel, “I’m going home and you’re going home and we’re going to forget about what just happened.”

“What just happened?” Steve asks quietly.

“Exactly,” you nod.

“No,” Steve laughs, his thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, “What just happened?”

The summer sunset is beginning, golden and tangerine light casting him in unfairly flattering light. It’s making the green stand out in the gold and brown of his eyes. Making freckles along his nose and next to those eyes beg to be brushed by your lips. Making his pink lips even more kissable. It’s making you pretty sure you hear Peter Gabriel singing and Huey Lewis and that one song Steve’s always whistling playing like the soundtrack to a movie.

“Nothing,” you whisper, finger touching the button on the polo, “Nothing just happened and we’re gonna forget the nothing.”

Steve’s fingers slip from your wrist into your palm, curling around your fingers as he lifts it to his lips and presses a gentle kiss there.

“As you wish.”

With one last precise blow to your defenses, you stumble backwards, blinking at him.

Nothing stands between Steve Harrington and his conquest anymore.

Neither of you is sure who’s more afraid of the thought.

You’re certain you don’t want to stick around and find out, spinning away from him and not daring to look over your shoulder to find him watching you walk away with real, genuine, hope in his eyes.

A house on Cornwallis Street - Saturday

“How is it?”

Your tongue slips out over your bottom lip, catching stray cherry slurpee.

“Mm it’s okay, something’s different though…” you note the street name as you round the corner, the long line of cars already parked along the curb.

Eddie swallows in the driver’s seat, “Oh?”

You indulge him, frowning as you take another long sip, “Yeah…cherry…mixed with…” you smack your lips, “Bribery?”

He purses his, “Weird.”

“Eddie,” you sigh as he pulls up to an open spot near a house that a party is clearly happening at. “I’m not dressed for this.”

“What are you talking about,” Eddie gestures to your red tank top, your shorts and sneakers, “You look like a million bucks.”

A frown deepens around the slurpee straw.

He raises his hands in surrender, “Listen, a Munson is always prepared for the worst, and it’s becoming a real possibility that I’ll be needing that million bucks when you sleep with the enemy.”

Your body heats up at the insinuation, at the flashes of Steve’s lips on yours, but you dryly say, “Ha-ha.”

When you worked your shift this morning after a sleepless night, you’d arrived at Family Video early only to find Steve had done all of the work last night, after you left. You’d spent your entire shift watching and re-watching The Princess Bride glaring at Westley and cursing Steve Harrington for existing.

Eddie hops out of the van, rounding the hood while you sit in the passenger seat and pout. He comes over to the open window and mimics your jutted out lips. “An hour. Two tops.”

Which is how you find yourself, two hours later, in the quiet basement of a stranger’s house, still Munson-less, with no end in sight.

The music from the main floor vibrates the ceiling, stomping of peoples shoes competing for the loudest volume. Splashes from a pool and giggles in the pitch of flirting float in through a sliding door. You sip a lemonade out of a solo cup and fiddle with the eight ball on the pool table under the dim lighting. The ball falls to the floor and rolls between two Nike’s when his voice scares you.

“New top?”

Steve bends to pick up the ball, looking up at you as he stands and you whisper, “No.”

He swallows as he takes a step closer, then another slowly, waiting to see if you’ll run like a scared animal as he approaches, but you just back up with each step, till your butt hits the edge of the pool table.

Each step makes the three words ringing in both of your heads louder and louder.

As you wish. As you wish. As you wish. As you-

“What are you doing here?”

Steve’s lips twist and he sighs, “Funny,” another step and he’s almost right in front of you, “Was just about to ask you the same thing.”

Your heart thuds louder than the beat of the INXS song playing above you both and you’re certain being in a dimly lit basement with Steve Harrington twice in one week is not good for your health.

“I-“

Steve presses a finger to your lips, adams apple bobbing as he shakes his head no and rasps, “I have a proposition.”

When you don’t say anything he removes his finger, unable to help himself and let’s the pad of it drag your bottom lip so he can watch it bounce back into place.

“Big brain word,” you murmur, “Want a prize?”

Steve nods and you’re certain the house is on fire, you’re not sure how your lungs are working, or how your brain communicates to your mouth to say, “What’re you proposing?”

He takes the last step, your legs falling apart without even thinking about it so he can stand between them. He lets the ball go on the green felt, hands pressed to the wood on either side of your hips.

“I wanna play a game,” he says it so quietly, you find yourself leaning in, noses almost touching as he nods to the pool table. He smirks, continuing to whisper, “Might even let you win.”

Steve grabs the solo cup between your hands, setting it out of the way and making you wonder what hands are for other than to grab collars of shirts to tug lips closer while he keeps talking, “If I win, we’re gonna talk about what we’re supposed to forget.”

To avoid the temptation, you press your hands to the pool table behind you, scratchy felt scraped by your fingers as you resist touching him when you ask, “And when I win, what do I get?”

He grabs your hips, he tilts his head, tip of his nose tapping yours, as his heartbeat throbs in his ears, muffling The Cars playing above him. He’s not sure how he manages to ask, “What do you want?”

“I’ll tell you,” your bottom lip brushes his as you talk, “When I think of something.”

Steve says your name so softly, so tenderly, if there was any wall surrounding yourself, it’d have crumbled into dust. He shakes his head no, lip skimming yours, breath exhaled against your cheek, “Need to hear what you want.”

“Why? Afraid you’re gonna lose and you won’t like my prize?” You tease, hand dragging across felt as you do, temptation beginning to pull ahead in the war.

The two of you are fighting for and against the same things, and it doesn’t matter anymore, you both just want to win - whatever that means. All Steve wants is for you to know the bet means nothing to him, and all you want is him to know how much you want him to kiss you again, the consequences of toying with your heart be damned.

Your hand grabs his bicep, squeezing before roaming higher as your lips remain close, but not kissing as he groans, “I can’t…” Steve’s eyelashes flutter, “I can’t think straight when you wear this color.”

A smile bumps your lips together again as your hand curls around the back of his neck, murmuring against his mouth, “Sounds like a poor excuse from a guy who knows he’s already lost.”

Steve nods, noses bumping together as he does. His chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as his hands adjust on your waist, stepping closer and pushing you up onto the pool table.

“You win,” he agrees, “Gonna tell me what you want, now?”

Your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck and you nod, tugging your body closer to his.

“A kiss.”

Steve exhales a sigh, hands roaming back down to your hips as he tsks, “Ask me nicely.”

You laugh quietly, your free hand grabbing at his belt loops as you add on sweetly, “A kiss, please.”

He ducks his head, lips skimming over your jaw and pressing a kiss lightly to the hinge.

You squeeze the back of his neck, “Stop messing around.”

His smile can’t be hidden when it’s pressed to your skin, voice muffled against your throat, “Ask me nicer.”

“More nicely,” you correct quietly, awarded with a scrape of his teeth just below your ear making it hard to focus. But somehow you manage, “Harrington please kiss me.”

He kisses the spot his teeth just were, dragging his lips down your throat and pressing another there, then another on your shoulder, another in the center of your chest, memorizing every sigh he gets, every squeeze of your fingers on his neck. He stands up straight again, nose to nose, looking like he’s just woken up from a deep dream.

His iris’ are taken over by dark pupils, yours blink at him under fluttering eyelids. The dim light above you both sways from the bouncing floor above it, casting shadows over freckles and laugh lines, scars old and new in almost identical spots. Chests heave in time with anticipation. Nervous fingers slip against skin, tongues wet lips, breaths are inhaled then exhaled between closer than ever mouths.

It all happens quickly after that, and yet, each moment lingers, like it’s making sure you’re both committing it all to memory.

There’s one, where you softly, sweetly, genuinely, sincerely, ask:

“Steve, please kiss me.”

Several that feel like he’s moving through jello, or that his body is made of jello and doesn’t know how to work like a normal human body without immense concentration. Hands on your hips leaving so he can cup your jaw and support the back of your head, then leans the smallest bit forward, closing the centimeters of space between your lips.

One where he stops, just before they meet, where he glances down at your lips and you nod and nothing can be heard except an inhale in and thunderous hearts threatening to crack out of chests.

Then, Steve Harrington is kissing you.

And you’re kissing him back.

This kiss, is different. This kiss is like Summer.

It's softer, slower - but not lazy. His hand cupping your cheeks adjusts purposefully, spread fingers over your jaw to tilt it how he wants you. So he can savor the taste of cherries and lemonade on your lower lip when his tongue traces it.

He holds your top lip between his, breathing into your mouth as it parts for him, tongues sweeping together as he adjusts his head. His nose nudges your cheek as you kiss each other deeply, fingers sliding back on your jaw, thumb brushing your ear and down your neck. He feels like someone has set his entire body on fire, bones cracking from his lungs fighting for air when you relax against him, sighing.

There's a warmth radiating and spreading from both of you, slow building but all consuming. It makes you want to lay and bask in the glow but also shield yourself from the burn that’s sure to come when your fingers tug on the strands of caramel locks and your name slips past his lips against yours.

It’s not unlike a sudden summer storm, the way it changes quickly.

Kissing that’s warm and sweet turning a little balmy, sticky, almost unbearably hot.

Your fingers push at the back of his head, needing him closer, his roam lower to your hips once more, tugging on belt loops. One can’t help but go up again, pulling fabric with it so the pads of his fingers can touch the bare skin of your ribs.

Steve can’t breathe when your legs wrap around his waist and you gasp into his mouth, “More.”

He pants into your mouth, fingers squeezing at bare skin and brushing lace, “Ask nicely.”

You nip at his bottom lip and he laughs into your mouth, both of you feeling drunk despite being one hundred percent sober.

Steve thinks someone cruel developed lungs and he settles for kissing your neck and shoulders as he tries to catch his breath, hand toying with the button of your shorts. He thinks he’s been transported to space when your back arches and you grip his biceps as his mouth latches onto the juncture between your neck and shoulder. His tongue swipes over the skin a little sloppy as you stutter out the word please.

He removes himself from your neck, breathing heavily as you stare at each other. His grin cocky and somehow endearing now as he asks breathlessly, “See, was that so hard honey?”

Honey.

Steve swallows when blink up at him dazed at the endearment. You swallow from the way he looks when he says it.

Like he means it. Like you’re his.

Then, the music upstairs changes, the melody familiar, tugging on something in your brain as Steve works on the button and zipper of your shorts.

He leans over you, supporting himself with a flat palm to the table as he looks down at the small space between your bodies. His fingers skim the black lace band, traveling back and forth over the skin and watching goosebumps rise to the surface.

As Steve’s fingers move beneath the band of your underwear you gasp, your hands grab at his shoulders. Two fingers slip past your clit, spreading your folds and teasing at your entrance then back up. His nose nudges your cheek, kissing your jaw as he practically growls, “You’re so wet, baby.”

He circles your clit with soaked fingers, making you roll against his wrist, your head turn so you can catch his lips.

It’s the heart of the storm now, messy and unpredictable as he swirls precisely over your nerves with his thumb and slowly pushes his finger then a second one quickly inside of you. He pumps them in and out as his mouth works over you in time with his thumb. He memorizes every hitch of your breath against his lips, cataloging every sound so he remembers what you like. He removes his mouth from yours as you tug at the back of his head, his name leaving your lips in a way he’d only every dreamed of hearing.

He kisses along your jaw as your head falls backwards, doubling down on his finger’s movements in the same spots. His mouth moves against your ear, “You gonna come for me?”

The storm swallows you whole, all defenses crumbled long ago so there’s nothing to ease the damage anymore. Your stomach tightens as Steve keeps talking, his words making your eyelids flutter as your orgasm crashes over you.

“Come on, trouble, I win. Gonna give me what I want?”

You clench around his fingers, and he captures your mouth with his again as you begin to yell his name.

Steve’s fingers eventually slow, then slip out of you. Your lips part, noses and foreheads touching. You keep your eyes closed, not sure if you can face the storms destruction if you open them.

His hands run up and down your thighs, making you shiver as he murmurs, “Told you I was back.”

Your hands are still wrapped around his neck, nose bumping his as you open your eyes. Words lost in your laugh as you say, “Shut up, Harrington.”

Steve smirks, eyes flashing with something dangerous.

“Make me.”

Your hands fall to his waist, fingers on his belt and a smile fit for a winner on your lips when he bites his and moans as your palm presses over denim, relieving only a fraction of the tension.

“This what we did, Steve?” You quietly ask as the sound of his belt clicking together and the drag of his zipper bring you one step closer to confirming it’s not a rumor.

“Wh-what?” He asks, voice desperate as your hand grabs him through the black Calvins and you grin.

Not rumors.

“In your dreams,” you remind him of something he told you that feels like years ago but was in fact this same week.

You press a kiss to his jaw as it opens in a gasp when your hand slips beneath his boxers. Unable to help noting you’ve gotten the upper hand again. You murmur in his ear as you tug on his length once.

“It’s what we do in mine.”

Your name is a whimper, along with the word, “More.”

You grin against his neck.

“Ask me nicely.”

Steve laughs with a groan, forehead pressed to your shoulder in defeat.

“Ple-“

The call of your name from the top of the stairs cuts him off. Eddie’s voice calling down into the dimly lit space, “You down here?”

“Coming!” You call up loudly as you let go of Steve.

Gently, you push him away, hopping off of the table and righting your shorts.

You kiss his cheek and whisper, “Thanks for the game, Steve.”

Your heartbeat is erratic as he catches your wrist and he asks, just as quiet, “Do…can we…is the game over?”

The way he genuinely, sincerely asks you has that spark in your chest sputtering, frayed wire live and dangerous as you dare to admit,

“I hope so.”

BICFTF TAGLIST: Sorry for the delay in posting today, and thank you for your continued support 💛

@ash5monster01 @madaboutjoe @foreverinwanderlust @the-fairy-anon @scarletwitchgf

@curlsincriminology @siriuslysmoking @redbarn1995 @starry--sarah @starksbabie

@taccobelle @angst-lasagna @blckburd @crownofdecit @torntaltos

@sanniegirl1214 @yourmommilf @khena @ytgus @starryeyedpoet17

#superbly subpar's writing #BICFTF #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #cw alcohol mention #cw scar mention

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octuscle · 1 year

Note

I’ve done lots of swimming and exercise in my life but I’ve never really put on any proper muscle, also doesn’t help that I look kinda baby faced. So I’ve always gotten a little jealous when I see pics of big burly bearded rugby players or like wrestlers and athletes who seem to ooze manliness, any chance you could do something to help ease my jealousy?

There are certainly worse things than having the lean and toned body of a swimmer. But I can understand you, I myself have tried for a damn long time and in vain to develop the body of a real man. But even I somehow always remained the boyish swimmer. Let's see what we can do.

In the morning, before work, you swim your usual laps in the pool. 40 lanes of 50 meters each, the normal training. But when you get out of the pool today, you are horrified. What a shitty time! You haven't been this slow in a long time. And yet you feel in top shape! It's silly, but as punishment for the bad time, you do push-ups and burpees on the edge of the pool. Fortunately, there is hardly anyone here at this time. Officially, the pool will not open before a few minutes. But as a member of the swimming club you are allowed to enter the pool earlier. The pool attendant watches you do your exercises with a grin and asks if you've been working out more for mass lately. With your body you should have problems gliding through the water. You look down at yourself. Fuck, yeah! Your pecs have definitely gained mass. As you shower, your hands glide over your body. Feels different. Better! And especially hairier. Fuck, you really need to shave. Why actually? You like to soap your fur on your chest.

Did you make a mistake in the locker? These are not your clothes… Instead of your suit, there's a wifebeater, a boiler suit and a bomber jacket. Jockstrap and white socks. Everything is not clean anymore… Heavy work boots. Yeah, right. You have to go to the construction site now. You're a plumber. Your van is parked outside the swimming pool. Hey, it must be the chlorine, you're really crazy in the head. Or maybe you're just hungry. On the way to the construction site, you quickly get yourself a couple of meatball rolls. Yes, it's only 6:30 a.m., but you need meat now. At the construction site, it's all about rugby again. The games of the last weekend. The games of the next weekend. A colleague says that as coach of the Junior team you should be harder on his son. It would be a dream of his if you could make him as much of a stud as you are.

You like the job as a coach. But as long as you can, you'd rather be on the field yourself. But before your training starts, you do a few sit-ups to warm up. You are slowly approaching the age of 40. But you still have the body of a Greek god. You pause for a moment in your workout. Your colleague's son comes out of the clubhouse and waves to you. Horny guy. Yes, you can really take him a little harder…

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #age progression #muscle transformation

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hetalianskywalker · 5 months

Text

Day 8: Choosing to Help

Pairing: Mer Vaughn x Jedi Reader

Summary: Sometimes helping is more than worth the danger.

Author’s Note: So I know I haven’t given much detail on the Jedi in this AU. And that will change in tomorrow’s fic. So sorry if anything is confusing here because of that. Hopefully, there isn’t. Also, when you see the prompt… get your mind out of the gutter. It’s not gonna go down that route. 🤣

Warnings: some references to war trauma and this world’s version of order 66. But I think that’s it.

Word Count: 814

Prompt: A squid with human eyes must not be harmed, thrown back as quickly as possible. I’ve seen too many good fishermen cursed to let it happen again.

Prompt 3062 by deepwaterwritingprompts

The whole fishing boat goes deadly silent when they see what was in your hands. The massive fishing net had been pulled onto the deck. Among all the fish, you had seen the wriggling tentacles of an oddly colored squid; it was white and blue with a little bit of orange. You had slowly picked it up only to be met with a pair of brown human eyes. You just stood there unmoving and soon the whole crew stood around you with a meter of distance.

A gunshot draws you all out of your almost trance like state. Your captain stands with his flint lock pistol aimed at the sky.

“Don’t hurt it and throw it back.” No one moves. “Now! Do you want to be cursed!?” They all scramble out of your way as you dash to the railing. You hold your arms out to drop it in the water only for the tentacles to wrap around your arm. You hear the other sailors gasp behind you.

To your surprise though, it’s gentle and it looks at you expecting something. What’s worse is that you know exactly what it wants, but you can’t blow your cover here.

“Please let go.” You plead. It blinks at you for a long tense moment before it does just that. You let out a sigh of relief as the ship immediately begins heading for shore.

You have never had so many good luck charms thrown at you. The Mer who show interest like that don’t just give up and they all know that wasn’t the end. The Captain is just relieved he was able to save your life. However, for the safety of himself and the rest of the crew, he asks you to find different work. You are a bit annoyed but you don’t hold it against them.

And they are right this wasn’t over; you soon see that squid in the river that ran along the road home. You shiver, but don’t shrink away from it. In fact, you kneel down at the sandy river bank as he comes up to you. This river connects into the ocean you remember as he stops in front of you; you should have taken another way home.

“If I do this for you, they’ll know I’m here.” You want so badly to turn him away, but the pleading look those eyes give you makes you cave. You had seen and felt so many men with those same eyes die around you during the war. Even after your Mer clones tried to kill you, their dying cries on the battlefield still haunt your dreams.

You extend your hand out into the water and softly begin to chant. The squid swims up to you and you feel the slimy skin under your fingers. He waits patiently as you slowly transfer your raw magic to him; even with all your Jedi training, bringing suppressed magic back to the surface is difficult. You close your eyes, trying to increase your focus; you have to hurry.

A loud gasp of an all too familiar voice fills the air and you stop chanting. Your vision swims and the Mer clone’s arms barely catch you before you hit the shallow water.

“Easy. I got you, sir.” You laugh even though it makes your head hurt. You cuddle into him. You shouldn’t after what had been done to you by his brothers, but you have been alone for what feels like forever. It is nice to be held again.

“I’m not a general anymore.” You say softly. You feel him slowly get to his feet, but you can sense his uncertainty. You slowly examine his blue and white armor, recognizing the famous battalion color. “You have been stuck inside a squid since before the end of the war huh?”

“The war is over?” You have a lot to fill him in on and very little time to do so. The Inquisitors will be here soon; you know it.

“We need to run. I am now a wanted fugitive and you are property of the new empire.” You can sense his confusion and fear, but he hold you to him protectively. You could cry; you haven’t felt protected and safe in a long time. Slowly, you look up at the orange and white helmet, recognizing the pattern from an old friend. Those brown eyes from earlier meet yours and you can see black curls with blue tips sneaking out under the helmet.

“I’m Captain Vaughn.” He begins moving quickly toward your home, going the direction you had been headed before. “Gather your strength. I’ll protect you. I promise.”

Once you grab your kyber sword, you and Vaughn steal a small ship in the dead of night. He is able to activate the runes to get the ship in a hyper current just as your Inquisitor executioners arrive.

#star wars #th clone wars #captain vaughn #clone trooper vaughn #captain vaughn x reader #rare clone x reader #mermay #mermaid au

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altairasart · 8 months

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MY LITTLE ADVENTURE EPISODE 1

(This is the first time I have transferred one of my stories into English, if you find errors let me know so I can edit them)

My name is Carol, Carol Smith I am 17 years old, I am exactly 1.77 m tall (5.8ft), there are quite a few things that I am not going to tell you about myself, although it is most likely that you will know everything as we advance the story. Anyway, I am thin, with naturally wavy hair, with a large bust, green eyes and a light complexion, and if you are not aware I am a giant or well the "evolution of the extinct human" You might wonder why in quotes? Well that's because 10 years ago it was discovered that humanity was still alive, since it had been believed to be extinct millions of years ago… I know that lying like that doesn't make sense of anything, but to put it this way, I am the evolution of humans. , and we measure meters, although we always did it as centimeters, we did not know of the existence of humans so for us are meters what for them are centimeters. The world government decided to treat the inferior race "humans" as if they were animals, creating human anti-execution rules. Or known as "Nhae" although it is pronounced Nejae. These laws are that a human must obey the giant he has as a master. The human is not allowed to escape from his giant, and if that is the case, the human will be sought out to execute him, it is even allowed for the giant to mistreat or kill the little ones, for us they are just useless little animals, you can eat them, kill them, use them for your taste, torturing them among other things but all the rules and laws that were created for them are mandatory, if a human does not comply with them they will be executed, something cruel for me, although I admit that my hands are not completely pure… but not everything is bad, They also have rights, they are not a big deal but it is something One says like this Right 22: A human can be treated as a pet or slave as long as the rights to it have been purchased at the hands of a giant That's what I mean, they are not entirely rights, but it is the only thing that humanity obtained in exchange for the giants And how do you see, everyone thinks of humans as pests or pets, although there are people who want to change that, I highly doubt it… very few people see humans as anything more than the annoying stain on their shoes…

But well… My story begins in a large shopping center full of people and multiple stores with things, and so on, I was calm with a friend named Sam who wanted to get things for humans since on her birthday they promised to give her 2 humans, She looked very excited, she told me how she didn't want to hurt them, how she wanted to be their friend and give them a decent life, the truth is the opposite of what I have done, the truth is the first time they told me about having pet humans. I came up with thousands, millions, I mean millions, BILLIONS of ways to torture humans, but little by little those grotesque ideas began to disappear from my mind, well not all, but most of them, I managed to start reasoning because after They were all living beings similar to us, the "MERO" It wasn't their fault that they were like this. -Hey Carol- Sam said with a happy face. -What happened? - -How would you torture a human with just a pencil? –

That question surprised me because she only dedicated herself to asking me about forms of torture, but she had never told me about a specific material, it is curious how she does not want to harm them, but she does think how to do it. -well… she would drop the pencil hard towards the human being's stomach, perhaps throw it into his belly, his bones would easily break or at least the air would be knocked out of him… or I already thought of other things! 2! Stick the pencil in one of your hands Another would be to give small punctures all over her little body. I said with a somewhat gloomy smile -GOD if you had another human, would you torture him like this?!- She mentioned something surprised because it was very incredible that I could think of things that quickly when it comes to torture.

What can I say, you know that I love human screams and everything related to the subject of torture, but… If I had another human… no… I think I wouldn't do much to him, there are some scares, but from there nothing more , it's just that he thinks… They are like us humans-

except size- He said serious Sam.

-But even so, they are living beings, people who feel, who think, would you torture someone just to entertain yourself? -

-You have done it… but Carol stop, you make me feel like a bad person- I reply already saddened by my comment

-You are not, or have you already done something bad to a human or someone? -

-well no…- -There it is, you are still free of sin- I said as she laughed so Sam wouldn't think about all that.

-Anyway, I have to go to the bathroom, can you wait for me? - I said so I could go to the bathroom to take some pills that I won't say what they are for and what they are not for. I don't take drugs, I just walk with the crazy boogeyman Yep, I'll wait for you at the "nutrimas" ice cream parlor, okay? -

-okay-

I already said something impatient because it was seriously necessary to have to take those pills. When I arrived I took out a bottle from my pants pocket that had those pills that I needed so

In order not to take too long, I took them all at once without thinking about it. -Just, calm down, think about your happy side like…. Torture? aagh no, not that, perfect now only my head is thinking about the screams of humans being tortured agh damn…

(Carol's mind) -Aid!! -NO, PLEASE NO (Out of her mind) -Help me! - I heard below me but I thought it was just part of my head -please help me~ At that moment her voice sounded weak, as if she were about to die. At that point, I crouched down from the sink, a small figure that was on top of a tiny red spot, the figure did not move at all… At that point I decided to take courage and want to grab that creature, whether it was a body of a dead human or no, it's not the first time I've had one in my hand, I was just hoping it wasn't a disgusting mouse -eh… Hello little one… I…- At that point I grabbed the small animal very carefully, but what scared me was that it let out a small cry of pain, at that moment. I knew well that it was not a mouse but a human. I had it in my hand up to my face. -Hey…. Damn who's will it be?- The human was extremely damaged His eye was drawing blood His left arm was open, you could see the muscle coming out a little. His foot was also cut, but the worst thing was his back, it was all cut, you could see muscle on his back, he was still bleeding. He seemed to be unconscious from the pain he was feeling. I take out a cloth from my bag that I brought from my house to bandage it -perfect, now I have to take care of you until they claim you- I said sarcastically as I put the human into my bag. At that point I left the bathroom, towards the ice cream shop where I told Sam I was going.

While there we each ordered an ice cream, we sat at a table outside the stand and he sat next to her. -Hey Carol, why did you take so long in the bathroom? - She mentioned while she was eating her ice cream.

-Ummm…. Well… How do I explain it to you- I take out of my bag the little human I found in the bathroom

-almost drowning* u.. a… A human!-

-Shhh that no one knows, the little one was very injured, the truth is I will keep him to take care of him, it seems that his former owner wanted to kill him and he managed to escape- -that means they must execut…-

Execute it like that but I really want to protect it…. I don't know… There's something about him telling me, take care of him, I have to protect him, I know that's strange of me… I mean, someone who would love to torture wants to take care of you-

-On the one hand, it is strange, but… I think it would be better that we go home, lest they continue looking for him-

Thank you, the truth is you're making me crazy - At that point we each went to our house to rest and all that, arriving home without warning I went up to my room to be able to carry out a correct treatment for the little one that I left in my bed.

-Agh, now what am I going to do with him… I can't torture him, especially not in this state…. Hey…touched the little one ehhh sorry- "God looks like I brought a corpse" It was scaring me because it didn't seem to have life, it really looked like a corpse, at that moment the little human was waking up little by little but in pain, he leaned over suddenly and coughed up a little blood on my sheet, he wanted to get angry for having dirty my sheet, but I understood that it was inevitable in his current situation, just then he turned around and looked me directly in the eyes, something that caught me by surprise.

Ah hello ehh, sorry for bringing you to my house without your permission………-

The little boy only looked at me with a face of fear that was impossible for me to ignore, he didn't speak, he didn't react, he just staggered and crouched down in fear, trembling when he saw me, he didn't know anything, he didn't know who he was, what he wanted, who he is. I didn't know if I would even be able to save him…

But something in me knew that my little adventure began here……

Thank you for reading! I repeat that I am not used to passing my stories in English, if there are many errors let me know so I can edit them as soon as possible without further ado, thank you very much for reading!!

#giant/tiny #g/t #giantess #gianttiny #gt community #character art #original character #size difference #sizetumblr #gt writing

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shegetsburned · 1 year

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𝐧𝐨 “𝐈” 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦

summary : Doc gathers Braise and Mute for a therapy session to try and help settle their differences.

characters : Luna “Braise” Ursi, Mark “Mute” Chandar, Gustave “Doc” Kateb

word count : 3,6k

notes : Finally finished this after posting a wip one month ago. Had way too much fun and let myself out with 3,6k for once. I hope you’ll enjoy it!

I’ve also done a bonus of this scene if you’re ever interested in more banter. [bonus scene]

In the medical building, there was multiple rooms filled with wounded and patients. Some in worse condition than others, always assisted by members of the medical team.

Doc spent most of his off days here, trying to help as much as he could. He was always like this. Trying to do good even when he could get a break. Everybody knew it.

That is why Thermite and Thatcher had asked him to organize a session with their protege to try and understand what was the problem between the two of them.

Gustave was smart, he hadn’t warned Mute not Braise that they would do a therapy session together. Otherwise, they would’ve both refused to present themselves, inventing absurd excuses.

Braise wondered why she had been summoned. She had no records of psychological problems, so why would Jordan even think about consulting Kateb. Something was definitely going on.

At 9 in the morning, when she finally steps foot into the medical center, her face drops when she sees Mute at the counter. What was he doing here? Wasn’t it enough that she had to endure him during their training sessions?

Without a word, her gaze wanders off around the reception, trying to find the doctor.

Like he heard her come in, Doc pushes the double swinging doors with a slight smile. Seeing both of the operators, he opens his arms, welcoming them.

“Mark, Luna, I’m glad you two came.” He declares, exchanging looks with both of them.

Mute, that still didn’t heard Braise enter behind him, turns around at the sound of her name, shocked. “What-”

Disgusted, they both look at each other, knowing this meeting had been set up.

Luna shakes her head in disbelief, but before she has time to complain, Kateb pushes the door again, leading to a long hallway. “Come on, time for our session.”

The girl follows him without asking herself more questions, hoping that maybe it was just a session between the two of them, without Mute.

“You too, Mark.” Orders the doctor with insisting eyes.

Mute crosses his arms and turns his head to the side. “That’s okay, I’ll be out here with-”

Gustave cuts him off before he has time to finish babbling his excuse “That wasn’t a request.”

The man sighs, looking at Braise slowly making her way to the doors. He follows her.

The three of them are in a small room, with dimmed lights. There is one door, and one small window besides it.

Braise and Mute are sitting on one side of a small metallic table, at least one meters between their chairs, whereas Doc is on the other side.

Delicately placing his forearms in front of him, Gustave opens a small notebook.

There is, once again, this awkward silence, and the doctor definitely enjoys it. He has a smile on his lips when he takes his time to look at the two operators. “So, you must know why Baker and Trace asked me to have a session with both of you.”

No answers. Mark and Luna are completely silent, refusing to look at one another. They stare down the doctor, hoping this would be over soon. Noticing none of them would make the first move, Gustave answered his own question.

“So that you work on your differences and learn to work as a team.”

Braise nods, slowly giving in. The least she could do was to respect Kateb for sacrificing his time off to have a session with them.

“So… ” Doc puts his pencil in front of him, sliding his arms on his legs, before he continued talking. “Who would like to start?”

Immediately, his gaze turns to Mute who had enough of this. “Alright, doc, I get it, why you want me to talk to this guy over here.” The man says, subtly pointing his thumb towards the girl besides her. “But I’m 100% fine.”

Braise’s eyes weren’t present. She was inspecting the table, tilting her head forward.

“It is my job to make sure that you’re okay.” Gustave begins to say. “So yeah, it might be slightly unprofessional, but it’s the only way I can see if you’re getting over whatever’s eating at you.”

Mute slightly shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah. I agree.” Luna softly responds, lifting her head up to meet Doc’s eyes.

Kateb smiles slightly. “See? We’re making progress already.”

After looking at both of them, Doc asks the same question again. “So, who wants to go first?”

The room becomes silent again. Mute and Braise are staring at the doctor without opening their mouths. The only thing that moves is Mark’s arms, crossing against his chest, showing clearly that he wasn’t open for any conversation.

“No volunteers? How surprising.” Having just a little bit of hope, Gustave looks at them. Maybe their need of ending this session was strong enough so that eventually one of them would start the conversation.

Nothing changes.

“Okay. We’re going to do an exercise.” The doctor finally declares.

Mute sighs and Braise frowns, uncertain of what’s coming.

“It’s something I use with couples when they are trying to figure out what kind of life they want to build together. Are you familiar with the miracle question?”

With couples? Was Doc really using techniques known to work with couples? There was many ways of settling the problem but Gustave enjoyed watching them. It was like studying two subjects who hated each other’s guts but were forced to work together. Normally, a situation like this was resolved by separating both parties so that they wouldn’t endanger the mission. So why was Harry so insistent on making their pairing work?

“Absolutely not.”

“Of course not.”

Their stoic answers do not discourage Doc who starts explaining the concept of this first exercise. “Okay, it goes like this. Suppose that while you’re sleeping, a miracle occurs. When you wake up, what is something you would like to see that’d make your life better?”

Now naturally speaking up, Braise doesn’t hesitate to give out her answer, “In my miracle, he would talk less.”

She quickly glances at Mute, before her gaze turns back to the doctor.

Mark, whose eyes are now riveted on her, agrees. “Exactly what I was gonna say, isn’t that ironic.”

At his answer, Luna slightly smirks, mostly proud of how easily it is to get on his nerves. She did it so well without effort it was almost addictive.

Now truly impatient at this little banter which both of them really seemed to enjoy, Gustave folds his documents and files in front of him, forming a pile and abandoning every normal kind of therapy. He decides to have a little fun as well. “You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise.”

Both familiar with the concept of this exercise practiced by military personnel to beat any kind of differences between two operators, their reactions are almost immediate.

The corner of the man’s mouth indicates his amusement for this practice. This was just getting better and better. “I like this one better.”

“Oh, god, he’s gonna love this.” Braise states, now her gaze upon Mark, knowing he’ll get pleasure torturing her like this.

Mute agitates himself on his chair, placing his hands on the handles.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

He turns his chair around, slowly facing hers, but she doesn’t move yet, squinting and trying to understand how she could get out of here. Braise had no escape, she just had to face the insufferable man beside her.

“Turn around face each other.” Orders Kateb with a show of hands, watching the two of them turning their chairs in front of the other.

“You should really enjoy this.”

“I’m going to.” Answers Mute with his usual grin, almost escaping a chuckle at the end of his sentence.

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling? He’s taking so much pleasure doing this. Knowing how much he annoyed Braise just with a look.

“I know you are.”

After a few seconds, both of their chairs are turned to face each other. They awkwardly shift on their seats, trying to find a good enough position to not completely be into the other’s personal space. “Let’s do it. Let’s stare.” Luna says, looking at the doctor, waiting for confirmation to start.But it wasn’t good enough for him.

“Get closer.”

Braise lifts an eyebrow before hearing Mute reposition his chair even closer than before. Following his lead, she slowly does the same, clearly hesitant.

At this point, their knees were only just about ten centimeters away from each other. Way too close for the likes of them.

Like it wasn’t enough to torture them already, Doc asks that they move even closer. “Come on, a little closer.”

There was no other way than to interlocate their legs to get closer.

With his hands clearly stating that there was no other choice, Mute asks: “Well, which way you want to go?”

Almost with a disgusted look, Luna was too busy glaring at their leg placement to answer his question. “Why’re your legs open?”

That’s what bothered her the most.

Mute, who didn’t really care about her concerns, spoke again. “Right or left?” There was annoyance in his voice. Annoyance that kept Braise from answering his question, cut by Mark’s voice. “You know what? Fine.”

He grabs the side of her chair, pulling her closer to him with a swift movement, placing one of her legs between his and the other on his right.

Braise, who still had her gaze towards their legs, escapes a chuckle, as she feels the slight brush of his fingers on both sides of her thighs, grabbing the metallic seat.

“Here. You happy now?” Mute quickly lets go of the chair, placing his hands on his thighs, rubbing them slightly.

Proud of how this turned out, Doc nods, a big bright smile on his face. “All right.”

Luna shifts on her chair, trying to find a good position where her legs didn’t touch the man’s. Unfortunately for her, that was pretty much impossible due to how close they were.

“All right. Good. Fine.” She mumbles under her breath, finally giving up. Braise sets all her weight on the chair, knowing that moving more wouldn’t help her situation.

Noticing that she wasn’t attentive, Mute stares at her. He looked comfortable, nonchalantly sat, almost with a smirk in the corner of his lips. “We’re locked in, knob.”

Successfully gaining her attention, Braise returns eye contact, now staring into his very soul.

At the risk of stating the obvious, she tilts her head, with incomprehension placarded on her figure. “That’s a little close.”

Mark agrees, nodding his head frenetically. “That’s very close. What you wanted, right?”

“Guys.” Interrupts Gustave, eager to start the exercise.

They get silent. Braise can’t help but break eye contact and close her eyes to shake her head in disbelief. How has she found herself in this situation?

Mute, who wasn’t as much fazed by the situation, turns his gaze towards the doctor, concentrating on following the next steps.

“Good.” He shifts forward, supporting his arms on the table and attentively looking at the two young operators. “Now look at each other.”

Braise slowly opens her eyes, irritated but also determined to end this, meeting Mute’s intense stare.

“See that wasn’t so hard.”

Staring into each other’s eyes, they’re silent.

“All right, Luna, why does Mark aggravate you?”

She knows why. There’s so many reasons why the man in front of her is nothing but an insufferable partner to her since they got paired. She could list many reasons but her mind wanders around one. At Rainbow’s HQ, there was already talks of splitting up. Many agents had their disagreement, but since Kali’s arrival, it had been more difficult to keep everyone on the same page. Times were difficult, and Braise knew about it, even if she wasn’t as ancient as all the other operators.

She waited, not knowing if she should bring up this situation to a man she barely trusted. But sitting in front of him now, with nowhere to run, maybe it was the right time to end this animosity once and for all. To declare the reason why she was so reluctant to work with Mute.

“Why are you thinking about giving up your post?”

Mark, who had not stopped staring at her, takes a deep breath, surprised by her question. He then lets it out, rolling his eyes and turning his head away.

This is what this was all about? Him possibly leaving Rainbow?

Mute knew she was there when he discussed this possibility with Smoke after training, weeks ago, but he didn’t know it impacted her like this. It surely wasn’t because she’d miss him.

“Why are you making such a big deal about something that has nothing to do with you.” He insisted on the word “nothing”, as if he didn’t understand why Braise even took this personally.

But turning back to look at her, Mute notices how solemn and grave her face looked. Braise’s eyebrows were forming an expression of disapproval.

“Harry trusted you. He believed in you. He gave you that job for a reason. This job. It’s everything that he stands for. It’ll be his legacy.”

This dramatic tension filling the room was very satisfying for Doc. Finally, they were getting real. Braise tried to measure her words, not revealing too much about her feelings. She hated opening herself up to Mute, but there was something he needed to understand.

“He gave you this job and you’re about to throw it away like it’s nothing.”

She was agitating herself, describing her words with her hands and pointing at the other operator. But what Braise didn’t know was that Rainbow meant just as much for her as it did for him.

Mute leans back even further against the back of his chair. His eyes glaring at hers. “Shut it.”

Deep in her thoughts and shifting her weight forward, Luna did not pay any attention to his command, her voice growing louder. He would hear the end of it whether he liked it or not.

“So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”

The girl's voice was trembling. It didn’t help to have one of the men she disliked the most in front of him, she also had to reveal how much doubt she felt about being chosen for Rainbow. As soon as she finished her sentence, she felt this huge wave of regret engulfing her being.

Mute wasn’t fazed. He had seen pain and doubt in her eyes, this wasn’t news for him. But realizing that Braise felt this way every time they were together shook him.

Luna let herself fall on the dossier of the chair, still staring at the man’s indifferent figure. She was boiling.

“You finished?” Mark softly asks. He sounded understanding and empathic but impatience was still engraved on his face.

Clenching her jaw, trying not to expose how vulnerable she was at this moment, Luna exchanges a look with Gustave before turning back to Mark. “Yeah.”

“All right, good.” Mute was determined to prove that this choice mattered a lot for him too. He was determined to prove her wrong and that the girl’s assumptions were based on nothing more than a meaningless conversation, which he hated and despised even more than Braise.

“Maybe this is something you’ll never understand. But can’t you accept that I’m thinking about making the right choice?”

His stare was piercing into Braise’s eyes, making her understand they were both of the same side. Serious but not too intimidating. Braise was almost relieved that he too had doubts about making the right decision. Under this thick layer of cockiness and arrogance, Mark Chandar also doubted himself and his decisions.

Defeated and having no comeback to this truth, Luna let her gaze fall on her hands, fidgeting with her watch to avoid looking at Mute.

Knowing Braise would not dare speak again, he took a decided breath and looked at Gustave who had been way too quiet since they started exchanging insecurities. “You know what, doc. We don’t have time for this. We have some serious shit going on.”

Softly tapping his knees against hers to get her attention and be able to talk to an attentive girl, Mute decided to conclude this therapy. “We go deal with that, and when we’re done. We both can go on separate, long vacations and never see each other again.”

He finished his phrase, posing between each word. To both parties, this was a wonderful consensus .

“I like that.” Braise answers, slowly nodding and returning this irritated stare to Mute.

“Great. Well, let's get to work.” Mute helps himself to the side of the chair, lifting his body up and tapping Braise’s shoulder, signaling her to get up as well but as she shifts her body forward to leave, Doc stops them.

“Hey. Wait. We are not done here.”

They both freeze, looking at Gustave in disbelief. They were so close. Rolling their eyes and sighting they sit back down.

“There’s still time to think about what you could change to make this partnership more viable for both of you.”

Braise shakes her head, determination leaving her body as she really does not have anything more to add. Her thoughts are interrupted by another remark from the oh so presumptuous Mark.

“Well, sometimes, I feel like we should be more like a team.”

Braise slowly turns her head to look at him, squinting. She was skeptic. This truce lasted way more minutes than she thought it would, but apparently stopped as abruptly as it had started.

“Or maybe I should be more like your beautiful jammers.”

“Oh, you fucking cunt.” Mute scolded, shaking his head and tightly grabbing his chair to turn his towards the table.

Imitating him, but dragging hers further away from the man, Braise sits back down, crossing her legs. “Go fuck yourself. You’re so selfish.”.

“Oh, fucking hell.”

They got out of the medical center late in the evening with a very drained and tired Doc who had tried everything he could to make it work. Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell if it had been a successful session or not.

Braise and Mute definitely could. From start to finish, they hated the experience and would definitely slip a word to Thatcher and Thermite about it.

Nevertheless, despite Luna’s will to hide her vulnerability, she had opened herself up to Mark enough for him to remember this day.

“I hope you know this was bloody useless because of ya.”

It was Mute catching up on Braise who had gone out of the doors first, trying to lose him.

Walking faster before lowering his pace, Mark stopped her by blocking her way. With a desperate sigh, Luna looked up, unable to express how tired of him she was at that moment.

“You’re very much a pain in my arse, but I’m not gonna let this get in the way of our mission. We’re supposed to be a team.”

He was right. For the most part, he was right. But Braise needed him to understand that he couldn’t just say this to excuse every argument they had and to set their differences aside. But she had nothing more to tell him.

“There’s no “I” in team.”

Was this his way of signaling her that they couldn’t work as a team when they were divided? Braise rolled her eyes, it was too late for her to even try to argue with this man.

She just lifted her head to meet his gaze.

“There’s no “we” either.”

This was Luna’s way to kindly ask Mark to get lost. But this stubborn man wouldn’t take this for an answer. He didn’t move. Mute kept blocking the path with his stature, making sure he was irritating enough to make her talk.

Braise doesn’t even try to get past him, biting her tongue as her gaze wanders around. “Haven’t you had enough for the day?”

She points her chin out at the late night sky, clearly showing Mark she had enough. Not expecting the man to continue, Luna tried stepping aside, but he followed her. “Haven’t you had enough of failing our training sessions?”

Mute was right. She knew he was right. Of course she wanted to work better as a team, but nothing made her want to spend more time with him. Nevertheless, she nods, quietly agreeing. Braise’s eyes were attentive as she shifts all her attention on Mark next’s words.

“I’d be more willing to work with ya if you were more cooperative, but i didn’t know one of the causes of your hate was me possibly leaving.”

Braise stays silent, nervously scraping her right arm. She kept looking at him, her gaze sometimes fleeing his eyes so that they wouldn’t look at each other for too long.

“I won’t. I’m your partner.” Mark finally declares with a strong and decisive tone of voice.

Almost relieved, Braise relaxes her shoulders. Her breathing getting slower, she couldn’t help but stare into his eyes to try and determine whether or not he was really ready for her to rely on him as a teammate..

Clearly realizing he wouldn’t get an answer out of her, Mute frowns before walking away, his shoulder slightly pushing her as he passes besides.

This definitely was a step towards the right direction, but how many did they need to take?

#rainbow six siege #r6 fic #oc: braise #r6s doc #r6s mute #please provide some feedback if you read it #scene inspired by the one in tfatws #my fic stuff #x: silent addiction

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sadnesslaughs · 9 months

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You have failed and your foes have achieved their long sought goal of reviving their God-king. Everyone expected him to lead the final assault and solidify his rule once and for all. Turns out, he’s actually a pretty chill guy and immediately calls the whole thing off.

(A response to a writing prompt)

“The God-king.” The weight of my sword grew heavy, the blade falling into the dirt as the ground opened before me. I had never felt so much fear in my life. Unable to do anything more than cower as the hellfire spat up from the hole, erupting into a fiery rage of blood red embers. Soon he was standing over me, a man with a pronounced stomach, a sharp grey bushy beard and two deep blue eyes.

“And you are?” The God-king asked, his bald head gleaming, reflecting the red flames that still drifted from the hole. Their roar fading now as the hole slowly closed in on itself, returning to its previous state.

“The-“

“THE NON-BELIEVER. THE ONE WHO TRIED TO STOP US.” Axia screamed, the woman clinging to her dark robes as she fell to the ground, rocking with psychotic worship for her lord. That twisted expression on her face displaying the fulfilled pleasure she got from seeing her vision come to life. She had won, and she was indulging in the sweetness of victory.

“So he is.” The god kneeled. Even on one knee, he towered over me, blocking out the sunlight. He placed a hand on my chestplate, crushing a small hole into the front of it, giving himself something to grip. With a grip made, he pulled me to my feet, and I made no attempt to fight back. I had lost, the world would fall all because of me. I should be the first to perish. He stared me down, and I refused to meet his gaze, too scared to even dare look back. “Good job.”

The hand released me, and I fell to my knees again, panting. As soon as my knees hit the floor, I bounced to my feet, fleeing from the man. My attempt at escape was pitiful, legs too heavy to carry me, causing me to stumble until I made it to a safe distance. There was now a decent distant between us, at least a few meters. I went for my sword, only to see it still resting in the dirt, having been carelessly left at his side.

“Finish him, my lord. Once he falls, the rest will bow to us.” Axia grinned. She hated me ever since I brought down her husband. Sure, she had hated me before that, but the added grief I caused only intensified those feelings.

“No, he fought valiantly for his beliefs. I respect that. Both sides deserve a rest. The war is over, we won. There will be no punishments or a demand for surrender. You can go on living as you previously did.” The God-king turned, about to leave, only to be blocked by Axia.

“This isn’t a victory. We haven’t crushed them. They must suffer, HE must suffer.”

“They’ve suffered enough. You’ve also suffered enough.” The God-king embraced Axia, holding her to his chest. “This was never your war. Nor was it the war of the hero who went against you. It was a war started by people you both cared about.”

“He killed my Herak.”

“And Herak killed his Trila, a beloved mentor and mother figure, for the hero. You’re both people who are hurting. Neither of you wanted this life. Isn’t that right, hero?” The God-king looked my way, smoothing out the creases in Axia’s robes as he did.

“I just wanted to do what Trila would have done. I wanted her to be proud of me. What sort of student can’t bring back their mentor’s body? She would have been ashamed.”

“Shame was the last thing she felt when it came to you. I will have her body returned to you at a later date, until then.” The man moved his hand away from Axia, clenching it into a fist. When the hand reopened, a silver ring sat in it. “Trila planned to give this to you on your wedding day. She really was looking forward to that day. She even planned to wear a dress to it.”

“A dress?” I laughed, covering my mouth, trying to push down any emotion that was threatening to break through. “Never saw her wear one before. She said it wasn’t fitting of a warrior.”

“Trila wanted to give a good first impression to whoever you married. She didn’t believe it was fitting for your wife to see a battle hardened warrior at such a joyous event. She cared deeply for you.” When he noticed my attempts to keep my composure, he smiled. “Let it out.”

Soon I was in his embrace, the ring firmly held in my hand as I grieved, sobbing into the man. As he consoled me, he returned his gaze to Axia, patting her back.

“Illness took your son. Not the hero, nor the world he strives to protect. Herak thought reviving me would get your son back, instead he only robbed others of the thing he so desperately wanted. Many sons fell to his ambition, and many people grieved, including yourself. He is at peace now and regrets the veil of grief that blinded him. I am not wrath, I am not sin, I am a fair king who cares for the world. I love humanity, even at its worst. You can rest. You don’t have to carry his hate, for he has none left for you to hold.”

I didn’t know how long we both spent hugging the man, only that I felt drained when I finally released him. Axia didn’t say a word to me after we let go. She only gave my shoulder a small squeeze, a hint of an apology. No, not an apology, a gesture of understanding that we both were suffering a similar affliction. She didn’t apologize, she only silently told me she understood the feeling. Where Axia went after the revival of the God-king was a mystery to me. I never wanted to ask the God-king about it. She deserved her rest and if I knew, I may have been tempted to visit her.

The God-king still walks the mortal realm, not as a god or king. Instead, he walks our world as a man. Sometimes I see him enjoying dinner or a festival and can’t believe this was the man I feared. The man I thought would doom us all. Peace has been clumsy with both sides of the war still having their aggressors. Not everyone was as willing to drop their weapons after both our sides’ leaders called for a truce. Still, the skirmishes were better than the hell we lived through before. I can’t say I entirely understand what the God-king is, only that I’m grateful he came back

#short stories #writing #writing prompt #story #writer

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tofueggnoodles · 2 years

Text

Saiyuki Reload Blast Drama CD 1 – Track 4: Free Talk

Summary: The voice actors talk about sports – ones they’re currently doing and those they’d like to try. Only, some of their definitions of sports are pretty open to debate 😛.

Note: As @soto-translates pointed out, free talks aren't scripted, so the voice actors often interrupt each other, talk over one another, and mumble. Some lines are just beyond my listening capabilities and my, to borrow a nifty term from @ratty000, dollar-store Japanese. I’m pretty sure I did not get everything right, so any correction or suggestion will be much appreciated.

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Hoshi: We’ve just finished recording the first volume of Saiyuki Reload Blast Drama CD. Thank you for your hard work.

Hirata and the others: Thank you for your hard work.

Hoshi: Now that we’ve been able to wrap up the recording in this nostalgic mood, it’s now time for the cast talk. But first, this is Hoshi Souichirou, who plays Saiyuki’s Son Goku. Pappi! Thank you for listening to us.

Hirata (mumbling): What’s he getting hyped up about?

Hoshi: Next, over to you, Seki-san.

Seki: This is Seki Toshihiko, who plays Genjo Sanzo. Pappi!

Hoshi: All right, next, Hirata-san, please.

Hirata: What are you laughing about? Yes, yes, this is Hirata Hiroaki, who plays Gojyo. Pappi!

Hoshi: Pappi! Next, Ishida-san, please.

Ishida: Yes. Well, this is Ishida Akira, who plays Pappi.

Hoshi: The one who plays Pappi, is it? Or should it be Papkai? Papkai?

Ishida: Pappi. It’s Pappi. Next–

Hoshi: All right. Thank you, Ishida-san. Let’s get on to the Saiyuki specialty – the cast talk. It’s been quite a while since we’re gathered together like this, isn’t it?

Ishida: Seems so....

Hoshi: We just recorded the type of interesting CD Dramas that Hira-san likes, didn’t we? How did you find them, Hira-san?

Hirata: They sure were interesting.

Hoshi: Were they? You sounded tired though.

Hirata: Say, it’s been a long time since we’ve last convened at the conclusion of a recording.

Hoshi: Isn’t it? Feels like you’d like to do more of it, doesn’t it?

Hirata: Yeah, the way I feel about the Urasai sections.

Hoshi: You were an active member in those.

Hirata: But, I’d like to attempt more of those. You know, until the lines start ring in my ears. Lines like, “stop messing around” or “I’m tired”.... But, he was in serious trouble, wasn’t he? The pappi guy.

Hoshi: Trouble? Pappi?

Hirata: Not you.

Ishida: Eh? Ah, you mean the Pappi I played.

Hoshi: Ah, yes, the Pappi Ishida played. This time–

Hirata: He was in serious trouble.

Hoshi: Yes, he was. After the long speech he gave, it turned out into an awful ending for him.

Hirata: An awful one. You hate it, don’t you?

Ishida: Yes, I hate it.

Hoshi: You hate it?

Hirata: You must be seething.

Seki: But, this is Pappi-san’s fate.

Ishida: Indeed, it is.

Hoshi: Pappi’s drowning his sorrows....

Ishida: And he was the one who explained their situation in the first place. [In track 1: At the gym, Hakkai explained why the Ikkou, especially Sanzo and Gojyo, needed to use the gym but turned out to be the least fit of them all according to an age meter.] I think everyone’s who’s listened to the CD Drama could imagine his frustration. That’s Hakkai all right. I mean, Papkai.

Hoshi: All right. Moving on, since this talk is also supposed to revolved around a particular theme.

Hirata: There’s a theme?

Hoshi: Yes. We’re just done with the part about our thoughts on the recording. So, let’s move on to the theme. Which is related to the audio drama we’ve recorded [Track 1: At the gym]: sports you’ve recently done and sports you’d like to try – do you have any of those? Let’s take turns to talk about it. Seki-san, would you have something to say about this topic?

Seki: Me? Quite recently, I did some ‘life bowling.’ I pushed myself and perform some hiphop music. It’s not something one typically does at the age of fifty-five, I think.

Hirata: Would you perform a bit for the listeners? (made some hiphop sounds) That’s awesome, Sanzo-sama!

Seki: This is the limit.

Hirata: It’s really a big deal.

Hoshi: You should really show us.

Ishida: It’s your real nature coming out.

Seki: Well, let’s put that aside and talk about the sports I’d like to try. There’s this sport I want to try the most – have you guys seen this program called Honyaguchi Hiroishi on TV? The guy in it ran, jumped over a railroad crossing and walked on the wall.

Hirata: Ah, the Velcro Guy.

Seki: I want to do that sport.

Hirata: It looks fun.

Seki: When I looked it up, I found out it’s called “wall-crashing.”

Hirata: It even has a proper name.

Seki: I thought, that was not really sport, but it turned out that it’s indeed listed as a type of sport.

Hirata: Is there something like an international competition for it?

Seki: Yes, but there’s also a rental service available for it.

Hirata and Hoshi: Rental service?

Ishida: Isn’t that something that’s impossible outside of that TV program?

Seki: It seems possible to do it outside of the program, as evidenced by the existence of the rental service.

Hoshi: So it’s doable.

Seki: Yes. The cost for a day’s rent of the equipment is seventy-five thousand and six-hundred yen.

Hirata: I have a question!

Seki: Yes, please go ahead.

Hirata: For our wrap party, let’s–

Hoshi: It might be doable!

Seki: Sounds fun!

Ishida: What are you trying to do?

Hirata: Hey, you at the back–

Hoshi: It sounds fun though.

Seki: Hold on for a second, Hira-chan. It’s written here, though – the rental costs seventy-five thousand and six-hundred yen for a day for one person and covers one course.

Hirata (referring to the staff member he called out to): Ah, they got away.

Hoshi: Oh boy, that’s all for this amount of money? This is–

Seki: It’s a sport that’s gained popularity in a short time. There’s a note about an electric fan being included in the price as well.

Ishida: What is it for?

Seki: I have no idea, though.

Ishida: For cooling down after sweating?

Hoshi: Maybe they’re being generous?

Hirata: To spur you onward, maybe?

Seki: Maybe it’s like what Ishida-san said – you’ll run easier with the wind [from the fan] blowing on you.

Hirata: With lots of newspapers flying in your wake....

Seki: Ah, like what Hira-chan said, blasting against the frontier.

Hirata: It’s decided then. We’ll do it [wall-crashing] for the wrap party.

Ishida: What sort of a wrap party is that supposed to be?

(They talk over each other, mostly repeating the same thing.)

Hoshi: All right.

Ishida: Everyone’s fired up.

Hoshi: I’m really curious about this sport. At any rate, that’s the sport Seki-san wants to try. All right, moving on. Hirata-san, please.

Hirata: Me? What would you like me to do?

Hoshi: Tell us about a sport you’ve been doing recently or a sport you’re interested in trying.

Hirata: A sport I’ve been doing recently, right? I bet it’s something you guys aren’t up to.

Hoshi and Ishida: What is it?

Hirata: Tossing and turning in bed.

Hoshi: Eh?! Is that sport?

Hirata: I think it is!

Hoshi: Tossing and turning is sport?

Ishida: I think it’s the first time I’ve heard tossing and turning being described as a sport. I guess it could be considered a sport for someone leading a bedridden life. Are you all right?

Hirata (emits a few mock coughs): It’s tough, you know.

Ishida: Ah, is it?

Hoshi: Is tossing and turning tough?

Hirata: Yes, it is. The other morning, while I was tossing and turning, I got this cramp in my leg.

Hoshi: Ah, that’s happened to me too.

Hirata: The pain woke me up immediately.

Hoshi: I see.

Hirata: It started with just a little spasm but it went cramping on for a while after that. I opened my eyes and said to myself, “Oh shit, I did it this time.” ** I didn’t think I would get such a cramp.

Ishida: Did you make it to the toilet in time?

Hirata: I barely made it somehow.

Seki: They say tossing and turning really makes a big difference to the quality of sleep. If you’re not able to toss and turn properly, you won’t get get the best out of your sleep.

Hirata: Understood. I’ll aim for the black belt.

Ishida: In tossing and turning?

Seki: Who will award such a thing?

Hirata: I’ll aim for rank eight.

Seki: It’s an amazing “sleeping technique,” isn’t it? [A pun: newaza (寝技) is made of the kanji for sleep and technique, but the term itself means pinning technique in wrestling or martial arts.]

Hirata: Tossing and turning in your sleep, rank eight!

Hoshi: Does that mean the sport you’d like to try is also tossing and turning in your sleep?

Hirata: I guess it can still count as that, even though I’ve already tried it. And there’s also the sport Seki-san was talking about.

Hoshi: That one, right? Fine, understood.

Hirata: For the wrap party. Yes, when is it? When is the wrap party?

Hoshi: Hira-san is the most fired up about this, isn’t he?

Hirata: Let’s do it, let’s do it. I’ll be the one in red, wearing the red, uh–

Hoshi: What will you be wearing that’s red?

Ishida: You want to dash about in a red boiler suit.

Hirata: Yeah, I want to appear in that.

Hoshi: You’re really filled with motivation.

Hirata: The boiler suit comes with Velcro fasteners, doesn’t it?

Seki (chuckling): Does it?

Hoshi: That’s about it from Hira-san. Well, how about you, Ishida-san?

Ishida: You guys seem to be into one or other type of sports, don’t you? I don’t exercise at all, you know.

Hoshi: Indeed you don’t, as far as we know.

Ishida: Since I’ve not been doing any sort of sports regularly at all up to now, I’ve been thinking I should do them. For instance, I should try running. Or going to the gym, like the scenario in the CD Drama.

Hirata: Indeed.

Seki: Even if it’s not the balance ball.

Hirata: If the four of us were to measure our bodies’ actual ages in real life, perhaps Akira would turn out to be the–

Ishida: Ah, but I’d be fine with forty-six. Yes, please let me be the age my character is supposed to be. [Forty-six is Hakkai’s biological age according to the age meter in track 1: At the gym. In 2017, Ishida Akira (born November 2, 1967) would be fifty.]

Hirata: No, no, no.

Hoshi: In reality–

Hirata: We’re talking about real-life measurements.

(Ishida laughs.)

Seki: Ah, have you heard? The sound director Takakuwa got his biological age measured and it turned out to be really young.

Hoshi: I saw it.

Ishida and Hirata: What was it?

Hoshi: Believe it or not, it was twenty-eight years.

Seki: Amazing. [According to myanimelist.net, Takakuwa Hajime was also born in 1967.]

Hirata: Is it his body age? Or skin age?

Ishida: How much on earth did he pay to get such a young age?

Hoshi: It was his body age.

Seki: If that’s really the case, it’s amazing.

Hoshi: I did take a good look at the printout of his result.

Seki: But Akira-kun, you own a bicycle, don’t you? With a bicycle, you could try doing stuff like–

Ishida: Something like trick riding?

Hoshi: Seki-san, it’s dangerous to suggest things like that to him.

Seki: Is it? But, it should be fine in places like public parks.

Ishida: It’s probably not allowed to ride a bicycle in public parks.

Hoshi: It’s dangerous with children around.

Seki: It’s not allowed, is it?

Ishida: But, a long time ago, when I was appearing in a play, I got my hands on a balance ball on the off-chance that we might be using it on stage.

Seki: So you own a balance ball!

Ishida: Indeed, I should’ve used it since it’s in my possession, but it’s already covered in dust.

Hoshi: Ah!

Seki: Ha.

Ishida: The only thing I do with it is to keep it inflated, with the optimistic idea that I’d be using it one day.

Hoshi: I see. You’re just keeping it in place.

Seki: Talking about keeping it inflated, it’s important to maintain the symmetry.

Ishida: Well, isn’t it basically just a balloon?

Seki: Hira-chan, should we have him bring it to the wrap party?

Hirata: A balloon?

Hoshi: That too?

Hirata: You could come as a cross-dresser, run and jump up and down onto the balance ball–

Ishida: So you mean I should use the balance ball like a trampoline.

Hoshi: It could be fun.

Ishida: I guess one could really use it that way.

Hoshi: But normally, couldn’t you sit on it?

Ishida: Indeed I could.

Seki: I saw on TV that it’s possible to train your muscles just by sitting on a balance ball.

Hoshi: It is, isn’t it?

Ishida: It’d be great if one could. **

Seki: What color is it? Is it red?

Ishida: It’s silver.

Hirata: If it were green, I might feel like using it.

Ishida: Ah, what a pity I didn’t get the green one.

Hoshi: What a pity.

Seki: Let’s paint it green.

Hirata: We can use it for a watermelon splitting game then.

Ishida: I’m sure everyone will be okay with that at the wrap party.... having the ball smashed to pieces at their feet.

Hirata: What about the monkey?

Hoshi: It’s my turn, isn’t it? As for me, I’m not doing any sports at the moment. Well, Ishida-san, you know this, don’t you? I keep thinking about this: You don’t look like someone who runs regularly, yet you don’t get fat at all.

Ishida: About that – if I were to take of my clothes, it’d be a dreadful sight.

Hoshi: Come on! That’s not something you can hide [under your clothing].

Hirata: Me too!

Hoshi: Really? You can’t hide that [being fat].

Ishida: That’s because I’m deceiving you using an outfit-coordinating trick.

Hoshi: No, no, you’re not.

Ishida: It’s a trick set I bought via mail order.

Hoshi: You're just having me on. Alright, moving on–

Seki: Hold on, Hoshi-kun. The main topic is just beginning. We can spend the next ten minutes on it.

Hoshi: We don’t need a main topic. Wait, main topic? Well, for now, I’d like to try running.

Hirata: Are you running [regularly already]?

Hoshi: I want to try it.

Hirata: Then don’t. [He’s trolling poor Hoshi-san again....]

Seki: Hey, Hoshi-kun, which club did you belong to during high school?

Hoshi: High school? Quite a number of clubs, actually: court tennis, natural science, lounge tennis... that’s it.

Hirata: Why did you join the lounge tennis club when you were already in the court tennis club?

Hoshi: Well, I was in the lounge tennis club in middle school. When I went to high school, I got the impression that court tennis was more suited to high-schoolers. It was tough, though.

Hirata: Did you quit court tennis and return to lounge tennis?

Hoshi: Yes, I did.

Seki: Basically, the sport you’re into is tennis.

Hoshi: It was. All I do these days are juggling with tennis balls. I belong to the go-home club.

Hirata: Go-home club.

Hoshi: Yes, in the end, it’s go-home club for me.

Seki: But if you were to stand at a court now, would you still be able to deal the opponent a powerful smash?

Hoshi: I was probably never able to do that in the first place.

Seki: Why don’t you try doing it for the Saiyuki wrap party?

Hoshi (laughing): Why do you and Hirata-san ask for everything at the wrap party?

Hirata: You could jump onto the balance ball, then leap onto the wall and walk on it, before hitting the smash.

Seki: After that, we can let Hira-chan fulfill his wish [of wearing the boiler suit].

Hoshi: Wish?

Hirata: My wish is the last event of the wrap party? Saving the toughest item for last, are we?

Hoshi: I see. Well then, let’s go with that.

Ishida: Are you fine with that?

Hoshi: Well, one would really sweat it out if one were to perform that thing Seki-san was talking about.

Others: What?

Ishida: The sport in which you jump onto the wall and walk on it.

Seki: It’s called “wall-crashing.”

Hoshi: Wall-crashing? Yes, in the end, it turns out to be the sport to try.

Hirata: For whom?

Hoshi: All of us.

Hirata: Not really.

Hoshi: Yes. And we’ll be riding the balance ball while doing it.

Seki: And tossing and turning as well. Hoshi-kun, how about you? Will you be playing tennis at the same time?

Hoshi: Tennis, yes.

Hirata: Will you?

Hoshi: I won’t.

Hirata: Will you or will you not? Which is it?

Hoshi: I’ll stick to wall-crashing. I think I’d like to give it a try. Okay, everyone, that’s it. I guess at our age, we might as well take this opportunity to exercise, right?

Seki: What the heck! In the end, this is the take-home message you wanted to deliver!

Hoshi: Make sure you do your exercises, okay?

Ishida: Be a good boy and listen to him, everyone.

Hoshi: Let’s try to lower our body age as much as we can.

Hirata: Understood.

Seki: Okay.

Hoshi: All right! As for Saiyuki, the journey ahead won’t be continuing for long. I hope for your support in the next installment. Well, that’s it for the cast talk in the first volume. See you again in the second volume! Until then, goodbye!

Ishida and Seki: Goodbye!

Hirata: Bye-bye!

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Translation of the Drama CD track referred to during their conversation:

(Round brackets): actions and sound effects. [Square brackets]: translator’s notes and clarifications. Double asterisks **: Stuff I am really not sure of.

#saiyuki #saiyuki drama cd #translation #seki toshihiko #hirata hiroaki #ishida akira #hoshi souichirou

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shiningwonderland · 1 year

Text

Natsuki Shinomiya (Repeat)

Translator: Jupiter (Twitter: jupitergrayson)

Proofreader: Akari (Twitter: akarioficial), Raz (Twitter: agnadance)

Editors: Pam (Twitter: skywyld), Terry (Twitter: turtlemudge), Mae (Twitter: itoshikimaegirl)

QA: Rei (Twitter: wolfe_raine)

May — Unforseen Grandioso

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haa~! Pleeease come to ME if you want to help herrr!

Shining Saotome: To be an idol, at any place, at any time, you MUST be strong.

Suddenly, it begins.

Once Golden Week ends, I return to school with a feeling of excitement, but I get involved in something troublesome right away.

During Golden Week, Shinomiya-san and I continued our practice together; however, it's been a long time since I’ve seen everyone from class, and I’m really looking forward to seeing them again.

Tomo-chan, who shares a room with me, went to her parents’ house over the break. I didn’t have the chance to meet up with Ittoki-kun or Hijirikawa-sama during the holiday.

The time I’ve spent with Shinomiya-san has been lovely, but…

It’s also very important for me to spend time with everyone… that’s why I’m really looking forward to it…

Just as I enter the classroom and greet Shinomiya-san, who had arrived earlier, the window pane shatters.

The principal jumps into the classroom. Without any time for me to be surprised at his sudden appearance, he grabs me and pulls me into the hallway.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Ah! Nanami-san!

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haa~~!

Haruka Nanami: Ah… um… Principal… What on earth…

The principal brings me to the roof.

Shining Saotome: Ha ha ha. This is one of Saotome Academy’s traditional events, “Idol Strength Training from Hell”!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Ah, there you are, Shiny! Jeez, when you’re starting you gotta tell me that you are!

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haaa. Sorry, sorry, me so sowwy.

Haruka Nanami: Uh... um. What exactly is “Idol Strength Training from Hell…”?

Ringo Tsukimiya: Oh? Shiny didn’t tell you?

Haruka Nanami: No… nothing yet…

Ringo Tsukimiya: I guess it can’t be helped. Well, let me explain.

Ringo Tsukimiya: So. To become an idol, of course you need an attractive appearance, singing ability, acting ability, and stage presence. A certain amount of luck is also necessary.

Ringo Tsukimiya: No matter what kind of harsh situations you may fall into and struggle through, you will need some ability to adapt and adjust, as well as physical strength and spirit.

Ringo Tsukimiya: That’s why Shiny will sometimes give the students tests like this.

Ringo Tsukimiya: The purpose of this training is to toughen you up while you are young so you can survive even when you are engulfed in the storm of the entertainment world.

Select the Phrase!

なるほど… I see…. (+0 Love +10 Music)

Haruka Nanami: As expected of a famous school, to have such practical lessons.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Exactly. Back in my day, our test was to fight with a bear in some foothills. At that time, Ryuya took on and easily defeated a three-meter tall bear that was the king of the foothills.

Ringo Tsukimiya: The bear was stuffed and hangs even now as a decoration inside the gymnasium. Hehe. Good times.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Well, with that said, since it’s difficult to do that with every student, Shiny randomly chooses somebody every year.

Ringo Tsukimiya: And this year, you and Nacchan were chosen. This is a good chance for you, so just go along with it and try your best.

Ringo Tsukimiya: So what are you doing this year, Shiny? Last year, it was a bungee without cords, right?

B-bungee, without cords… ?

Shining Saotome: This year’s competition is a game of taaag! BUT this is no ordinary game of tag. It’s jam-packed with traps!

Ringo Tsukimiya: I see. It’s been a while since we’ve done something like that. Hehe. It’s gonna be a good one.

Haruka Nanami: Something like that?

What in the world kind of game of tag IS this… ?

Natsuki Shinomiya: Nanami-san. You’re OK, that’s good to see.

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haa~~. Looks like the actors are all here.

Natsuki Shinomiya: What…?

Ringo Tsukimiya: I explained this to her earlier, but this is the “Idol Strength Training from Hell”.

Ringo Tsukimiya: After this, Shiny is going to take your partner and run away from you, so Nacchan, you will have to chase him to get her back.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Well… it’s like a game of tag. However, there are traps set all over, so please be careful.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Let’s get started. “Idol Strength Training from Hell” starts now!

The moment I hear the sound of a whistle, the principal grabs me and jumps off the roof.

Shining Saotome: Whoo!

Haruka Nanami: AAAAAA!

Thud.

When the principal jumps to the ground, the ground sinks and continues to shake.

I’m s-surprised.

Even though he jumped from such a high place, the principal has a calm expression on his face.

He starts running immediately.

Haruka Nanami: U-um… where are we going now…?

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haa~~. Let’s go and tease Mr. Shinomiya.

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haaa. This way, “It”, towards the clapping hands!

The principal runs from the grounds to the classrooms, from the classrooms to the hallways, and all around the school to mess around with Shinomiya-san.

His movements are so incredible that he doesn’t seem to be human.

But Shinomiya-san is making moves that are keeping up with the principal.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Nanami-san. Please wait for me. Before long, I’ll reach you…

Haruka Nanami: Ah… Shinomiya-san.

When Shinomiya-san steps forward, the pinwheel fireworks under his feet ignite.

Although one might say it's just a regular firework, this pinwheel firework is different from the ordinary ones. It's shaped like a mouse stuffed animal.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san, run! Please hurry and get out of here!

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haaa~~. Even if you run away, it's useless. Once the “Mouse Pinwheel Firework Squeak EX” sets you as its target, it will chase you anywhere.

I-incredible. There’s a small pinwheel firework that can have such advanced technology.

Natsuki Shinomiya: C… cute!

What…?

Shinomiya-san scoops up the small mouse pinwheel firework at his feet with both hands.

In that moment…

Squeak squeak~

The pinwheel firework squeaks once and pops.

Fireworks are scattered about and the smell of gunpowder fills the air.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Ah! Mouse-chan…!

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san. You need immediate medical assistance…. You got burned…

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haaa. Don’t wooorry.

As he says that, the principal pushes a switch hidden in the wall of the hallway.

SPLASH!

Part of the ceiling suddenly opens up and water flows out like a waterfall. A large amount of water pours down on Shinomiya-san.

Shining Saotome: When you get burned, it’s best to cool it with running water.

Select the Phrase!

風邪を引いてしまいます You’re going to catch a cold. (+30 Love, +0 Music)

Natsuki Shinomiya: I’m completely fine with it. If you’re safe, then that’s fine with me.

Haruka Nanami: But…

Natsuki Shinomiya: Please wait, Nanami-san. No matter what hardships we face, I will always rescue you.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san…

Soon after, the principal brings me to the pool.

And then, with a giant leap, he jumps over the twenty five-meter pool in one go and lands on the diving board on the other side.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Are you okay?!

Right away, Shinomiya-san comes to the pool.

I don’t know if even an Olympic athlete would be able to keep up with the speed of the principal.

Shinomiya-san is also a really amazing person…

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haa~~. The second obstacle is the electrifying pool challenge!

There are some small pillars in several places in the pool, and if he can successfully jump on them, he can get to this side. But…

The pool water looks normal, but occasionally, a black shadow moves under the water.

Shining Saotome: By the way, this pool is full of electric catfish.

Shining Saotome: If you happen to fall in you will be electrocccuuuteddd. Even an elephant would be knocked out with a single blow!

The electric attack would knock out an elephant with a single blow!? What a terrifying trap…

Shining Saotome: AND the poolside has a high voltage currrennnt! Coming here from the poolside is im-po-ssi-ble!

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san. Please… don’t push yourself too far. I’ll be fine…

Shining Saotome: Also, If Mr. Shinomiya refuses, this girl will take the challenge instead.

Haruka Nanami: OK, I’ll do it…

Natsuki Shinomiya: Please, let me do it instead…

Haruka Nanami: But…

Natsuki Shinomiya: Don't say such a sad thing. Just thinking about you being in danger makes my heart break.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Please. Please, let me protect you.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san…

Natsuki Shinomiya: Here I go…

Shinomiya-san steps into the pool.

He's trying to act bravely to reassure me, but his legs are trembling slightly.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san, please be safe…

Shinomiya-san begins walking on the pillars step by step.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Just a little more…

Five meters away from the side of the pool, an electric catfish jumps up at Shinomiya-san’s feet.

The catfish’s tailfin smacks against Shinomiya-san’s leg and he suddenly loses his balance for a moment.

BZZZZT!

Haruka Nanami: Aah!

Natsuki Shinomiya: Ow…

One of his legs is submerged in the water and Shinomiya-san’s face twists with pain from the electric shock of the catfish.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san!

Natsuki Shinomiya: … I’m all right. It was just a little shock… Nanami-san, don’t look at me like that.

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haaa. There’s one million volts of electric current.

Haruka Nanami: O-one million…

Shining Saotome: You’ve got a lot of willpower to be able to stand after that.

Select the Phrase!

わたしが代わります I will take your place. (+20 Love, +0 Music)

Natsuki Shinomiya: Please don’t. I’ll be just fine…

Haruka Nanami: But… in your condition… if you fall into the pool…

Natsuki Shinomiya: I’m okay. I’m not scared… It won’t be painful…

Natsuki Shinomiya: What really hurts me is… I’ve made you worry about me.

Haruka Nanami: ... What?

Natsuki Shinomiya: If only I was stronger… I wouldn't make you worry about this so much.

Natsuki Shinomiya: I can surely overcome any pain and hardship if it means sharing a dream with you…

Natsuki Shinomiya: Besides, I want you to smile all the time…

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san…

Shining Saotome: Heeey! You have some nerve, making a lovey-dovey speech in front of ME. Now you’ll get The Big Wave.

As soon as the principal says that, the pool suddenly surges and, in the blink of an eye, a high wave forms, swallowing Shinomiya-san up.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Ggh. Ugh, aaa…

The towering wave surpasses Shinomiya-san’s great height and pulls his body under the water.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san. Shinomiya-saaaaaaan!

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haaa. Let’s head towards the third stage. This way, “It”.

After this, the principal brings me to the school grounds.

And somehow, I’m on the ground, tied to the trunk of a cherry tree with a rope.

Shining Saotome: This is where it ends!!

After a short time, Shinomiya-san finally arrives.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san!!

His footsteps are staggered, probably from suffering a lot of electric shocks; his breathing is rough, and he looks like he might collapse at any moment.

Still, Shinomiya-san slowly makes his way over to us.

Natsuki Shinomiya: A… ahaha… I’m exhausted. I’m not very good at this kind of thing.

Natsuki Shinomiya: But, you… I will save you for sure. Even if I have to give my life for it.

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haaa! It's the hero Shinomiya who has arrived! Still. Your life ends here!

Shining Saotome: Come forth! Shining Agency’s top fighter, Ryuya Hyugaaaa!!

The principal says this in a loud voice… but…

...

There is no sign of anyone coming out of the school building.

Shining Saotome: Come forth! The S Class teacher, Ryuya Hyuga!!

...

Shining Saotome: Ryuya-saaaaaan. Where are you, Ryuya-saaaaaan?

Then, at last, the S Class teacher, Hyuga-sensei, appears from the entrance.

Ryuya Hyuga: Ah… yeah, yeah. Wait a sec. Damn, don’t start ahead of schedule. What extras am I beating up now…

Ryuya Hyuga: I’m the S Class teacher, Ryuya Hyuga. Nice to meet ya. Well, sorry, we just met, but I’m gonna defeat you with my fist.

Ryuya Hyuga: See, I don’t have a grudge against you, but it’s the president’s orders, so no hard feelings.

Natsuki Shinomiya: … Understood.

Shining Saotome: That being said, please do your best to defeat the middle boss. The LAST boss is ME, of course.

Ryuya Hyuga: Summoning me in the middle of a class AND treating me as the middle boss…

Then, Tsukimiya-sensei arrives.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Geez. Shiny, I told you to call me before the middle boss fight.

Shining Saotome: Ha ha haaa. Don’t WORRY. Our battle is just beginning.

Ringo Tsukimiya: This looks like something out of the end of a discontinued manga. Well, it’s okay. If you say it's just beginning, then I’ll take a closer look.

Ryuya Hyuga: I don't like what I have to do very much… but... it can’t be helped. Here we go! Hyahh! Hyaah!

Natsuki Shinomiya: …HUP!

Shinomiya-san dodges Hyuga-sensei’s punch at the last second.

Ryuya Hyuga: Ooh… You’re quite good at this. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this excited.

Hyuga-sensei takes a small step forward, bends his knees for an instant, and puts the whole force of his body behind a powerful punch.

However…

This, too, is dodged by Shinomiya-san just before the punch makes contact. Hyuga-sensei’s fist merely grazes his cheek.

Shinomiya-san narrows his eyes at Hyuga-sensei and stares straight at him with a sharp look.

Ringo Tsukimiya: O-ho-ho, isn't it amazing that Nacchan is keeping up with Ryuya?

Haruka Nanami: Um… Is Hyuga-sensei really so great?

Ringo Tsukimiya: Yes, before becoming an idol he was head of a delinquent group in his hometown. The “Demon Ryuya” is what they used to call him. Good times~.

Ringo Tsukimiya: When he came to Saotome Academy, students from other schools would come to pick fights and his underlings would greet them.

Haruka Nanami: Is that so... Eh? How do you know about that?

Ringo Tsukimiya: Oh, you didn’t know? Ryuya and I used to be classmates at this Academy.

I-I didn’t know…

Ringo Tsukimiya: But more importantly, let’s keep an eye on the fight right now.

Haruka Nanami: Sure.

Shinomiya-san follows Hyuga-sensei’s movements with his eyes.

He keeps dodging Hyuga-sensei's attacks with minimal movement and never attacks first.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Haaha... oh Sensei~. You’re going easy on me, aren’t you? I have just enough speed to barely avoid your attacks.

Ryuya Hyuga: … You’ve noticed, huh. Well, I can’t punch one of my students like a real opponent.

Ryuya Hyuga: However… you’re pretty good at this. I almost got serious for a moment there.

Shining Saotome: Tch. This is not amusing at alll. I’m coming ouuut nowww!

Ryuya Hyuga: I had a feeling I could go toe-to-toe with this guy, but… Ah well, I guess if the president says so, I'll withdraw.

Hyuga-sensei gently places his hand on Shinomiya-san’s shoulder, leans close to his ear, and whispers:

Ryuya Hyuga: Shinomiya… don’t die.

After his murmur, he gently lifts his hand off Shinomiya-san’s shoulder and disappears back into the school building.

Haruka Nanami: U-um… Can’t we stop this here?

Haruka Nanami: If you fight any further, Shinomiya-san will die.

Ringo Tsukimiya: It seems that way… You’re his partner, so if you fight Shiny he might withdraw from the battle, but…

Ringo Tsukimiya: What do you want to do, Nacchan? Do you want to ‘pass the baton’ and hand this over to her?

Natsuki Shinomiya: I wouldn’t… I will fight.

Haruka Nanami: But why… ? You are so exhausted… and you have a lot of injuries…

Haruka Nanami: I can't watch this anymore. I really want you to leave this instant. Please don’t fight anymore.

Natsuki Shinomiya: I can’t do that. I can’t afford to run away… when you’re being held hostage.

Haruka Nanami: Whatever happens to me, I’ll be fine.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Because I’m weak, perhaps I may not be your knight. Please, let me pretend to be strong for you.

Shining Saotome: WHOOAAA! STOP THE ROMANNNTICCC TALKKK!

The principal does an agile kick and smashes the rock between Shinomiya-san and I.

Debris from the rock scatters about, raining down on Shinomiya-san.

At that moment, Shinomiya-san ducks and blocks the onslaught of debris.

Shining Saotome: Here is where our playtime ends. Defeat ME if you want to save herrr!

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san, it's useless. If you fight against the principal, you’ll die!

I shout at him in desperation, but… Shinomiya-san suddenly stands up and smiles, turning to face the principal.

The moment their fists collide, the air shakes.

Earlier, Hyuga-sensei’s punch was also amazing… but the principal’s is on a whole other level.

Wow…

The principal is incredible, too. But… what on earth kind of person are you, Shinomiya-san, who is evenly matched with the principal?

Shining Saotome: HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

The principal’s fist grazes Shinomiya-san’s face.

Clatter.

Shinomiya-san’s glasses fall to the ground.

At that moment, the ground begins to shake.

Male Student: Whoa. W-what the—!?

Female Student: A-an earthquake!?

Male Student: No! It’s Shinomiya. He’s making the ground shake!

Female Student: We have to get out of here… If we get caught up in something like that, we’ll die…

RUMBLE!! Natsuki Shinomiya: AAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!

A tremendous amount of energy radiates from Shinomiya-san’s body.

Dark clouds begin to enshroud the sky and the sharp crack of thunder roars overhead.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-sa…

I hesitate for a moment as I try to speak. His eyes… Shinomiya-san’s eyes are different than usual.

Shining Saotome: OH! It seems that this has become a little bit difficult.

Without saying anything, Shinomiya-san drives his fist into the statue of the principal at the front of the school. As soon as he comes into contact with it, the bronze statue shatters.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Hahh…

Haruka Nanami: Sh-Shinomiya-san!

Shining Saotome: It’s useless to call out to him. He’s completely lost it.

Haruka Nanami: Well, what should I do… ?

Shining Saotome: I will stop this. I am this school’s principal, after all. I have a duty to protect this school.

The principal catches Shinomiya-san’s punch.

While the principal tries to subdue Shinomiya-san, Tsukimiya-sensei calls out to the students to take refuge in the school.

Male Student: A-ah… Come on everyone, let’s go!

Female Student: O-okay. But, is the school building even safe?

Male Student: It’s better than being here. Come on, let’s go!

Female Student: Alright…

Encouraged by Tsukimiya-sensei, everyone returns to their classrooms.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Come now, you too, hurry.

Tsukimiya-sensei unties my rope.

Haruka Nanami: I… I’m going to stay here.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Nacchan isn’t normal right now. If you get involved in that, you’ll be sorry. If something were to happen to you…

Haruka Nanami: But I’m Shinomiya-san’s partner. Is it wrong to want to stay by his side until the end?

Ringo Tsukimiya: ... Okay. It seems your teacher will stay too. Because both of you are my precious students.

Haruka Nanami: … Teacher.

Shining Saotome: HyyyAAAH!!

Natsuki Shinomiya: Hmph!

Every time the principal and Shinomiya-san clash, the ground shakes like an earthquake.

A huge mass of energy springs out from each of their bodies and a giant light engulfs each of them.

The aura on the principal’s side is golden and on Shinomiya-san’s side is jet black.

Their fists never falter as they push against each other, but the principal is being pushed back slightly.

The jet black aura engulfs the body of the principal, who emits a dazzling light…

Ringo Tsukimiya: It’s like a solar eclipse. Huh, I wonder what the heck kind of person he is to be equally matched with Shiny.

BAM!

The jet black aura radiating from Shinomiya-san’s body suddenly erupts and swells exponentially.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Hmph!

He closes the gap between him and the principal, driving his fist into the ground at his feet.

Crack!

A crack runs through the ground under the principal’s feet.

Crack!

Shinomiya-san continues to drive his fist into the ground.

The ground... is going to be cracked open… T-the school will be… The Earth will be broken…

As I think that, the principal quickly picks up Shinomiya-san’s glasses.

Shining Saotome: This is the ENNND!

He puts the glasses on Shinomiya-san’s face.

At that moment...

Haruka Nanami: Ah…

The air changes. The clouds clear out and the black aura that had covered the school building before disappears.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Huh? ... The school yard is all messed up all of a sudden...?

Shinomiya-san is back to his gentle, calm self.

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san.

When I run up to him, Shinomiya-san smiles and embraces me tightly.

Haruka Nanami: U-um…

Natsuki Shinomiya: I’m sorry. You were scared, right?

Select the Phrase!

いえ、信じてましたから I wasn’t. I believed in you. (+20 Love, +0 Music)

Natsuki Shinomiya: Nanami-san… thank you…

Natsuki Shinomiya: For believing in me like this... I'm sure you must have been very scared while having that terrible experience with Saotome-sensei…

Natsuki Shinomiya: I’m so sorry. I am nothing more than a weakling.

Natsuki Shinomiya: If only I had the power, if only I was strong enough to protect you...

Haruka Nanami: Shinomiya-san…?

Shinomiya-san clasps my hand firmly.

However, I feel his hands trembling so much that I immediately realize he was actually afraid to fight the school principal.

Still, this man did his very best to protect me.

I can feel the warmth from the palm of Shinomiya-san’s hand. That alone shows how Shinomiya-san tried with utmost effort.

Shinomiya-san diligently protected me. He’s not a weak person at all.

Haruka Nanami: It’s okay. I think you are strong enough. Rather, you’re just not aware of it.

But... I won’t say anything right now. I'm sure it's something that Shinomiya-san will notice for himself someday.

Shining Saotome: Mmm. Such passionate lovey-doveyness. That's the smell of school rules being violated.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Now, now, let’s leave it be. Besides…

Ringo Tsukimiya: What happened with Nacchan's glasses seems troublesome. We have to be careful about not letting them come off.

Later on, this day would be known as the legendary “Shinomiya glasses incident”. Everyone in the school would vow not to take off Shinomiya-san's glasses.

That evening, I was delayed in the classroom and ended up being late to go home.

Then, as soon as I go outside, it starts to rain.

Haruka Nanami: Ah…

I need to hurry home.

When that thought comes into my head, I start running.

Cat: Meow~, meow~.

I hear the sad cry of a kitten.

Haruka Nanami: Huh? A cat? Where… ?

I look around, but can’t find anything.

Cat: Meoooww~~, meoooww~~.

Haruka Nanami: The meowing is close…

Select the Phrase!

下を見る Look down. (+10 Love, +5 Music)

Ah.... Could it be that it fell into a crack in the ground that Shinomiya-san made earlier?

Cat: MEowW~~!

The kitten lets out a remarkably loud meow.

Haruka Nanami: Ah! To think you're stuck down there...

That's where the kitten is‚ in one of the cracks in the ground that Shinomiya-san made.

Haruka Nanami: Wait a moment now, okay. I’m going to rescue you.

I reach into the rift in the ground and manage to pick up the kitten.

Haruka Nanami: Thank goodness. If you had fallen into a deeper crack, I might not have been able to rescue you.

Even after I pick it up, the kitten is trembling in my arms.

... I guess it‘s really scared.

Haruka Nanami: It’s okay now. Wait... this kitten... Oh, that’s right.

The kitten is the one that I helped at the entrance ceremony.

From then on, I call the kitten ‘Kuppuru’ and secretly start keeping it in my dormitory.

Kuppuru: Meoow~. Meoow~.

Haruka Nanami: Heh heh. Kuppuru really likes melon bread~.

I’ve tried various things so far, but Kuppuru would rather have sweet bread than cat food…

Especially melon bread—that seems to be the one he loves.

It’s a little strange that melon bread is the kitty’s favorite food, but this kitty is also my precious friend now.

Mini Game

Ringo Tsukimiya: Hehe. Today we will have a written test as a review of what we’ve studied so far!

Ringo Tsukimiya: Don’t worry, it won’t have difficult questions.

Ringo Tsukimiya: It's a test of how much knowledge you've gained so far, so if you’ve studied hard, there should be no problem!

Ringo Tsukimiya: After this, choose the best answer to each question, okay?

Ringo Tsukimiya: The questions on the test include a lot of things that can be found in the dictionary, so you should know them perfectly if you've studied.

Ringo Tsukimiya: Hehe. All right, the test begins now!

S Rank

The next day, I report the test results to Shinomiya-san.

Natsuki Shinomiya: Even though there are so many questions, you always come up with the correct answer… As expected, you're really amazing.

Shinomiya-san murmurs with admiration as he looks over the answer sheet.

Haruka Nanami: This time I just happened to know all the questions, so it was a perfect score... I still have much to do.

I’m going to study a lot more and use that knowledge in my compositions.

Chapter End

#natsuki repeat #natsuki shinomiya #utapri #repeat

14 notes · View notes

anchanted-one · 2 years

Text

Legend of Lightning Chapter 43. Lord Praven

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43208574/chapters/111710548

Two days later

“Aaaaaaaaand… touchdown!” Kira cried happily as she set her speeder down next to a cliff face. “How’s that, eh? Ten for ten?” She looked at the rough straw doll she was using as a stand-in for… anyone. “What? A seven?! That’s outrageous! It’s unfair!” She tilted her head. “Oh. So it counts against me if I don’t land parallel, or perpendicular? Only you would say that, jackass! You try landing the speeder when we’re going at eighty klicks per hour! See how you’ll do!”

She landed lightly on the sand and pressed in the supersonic sensor. She then pressed the switch, sending the plunger digging about a meter and a half deep inside. She then returned to the speeder to spend the next ten minutes.

“No, evening isn’t that much better than the day, little doll. The morning is, though.”

“What’s that? Practice my Forms? Aren’t I supposed to be conserving water? Such a silly suggestion! You should have your Mastery taken away for that. Oh? What’s that? Oh, right! You ain’t Master yet.” She took a swig from her flask. “Wait, how can you say that? You’re the kid Master Satele drools over! She’ll be so heartbroken to know that you’re not interested in serving next to—wait. Silly me, I shouldn’t make such jokes until you’re at least twenty, right? No? Eighteen is technically enough? Okay then. I start teasing you at eighteen." She nodded firmly. “Don’t give me that! There’s plenty of relationships with wide gaps that last! … not from eighteen though? You got a point. Okay, twenty. Final offer. Ah. Sensor’s done.” She coughed, groaned, then took another long sip. “How many left, you ask?” she lifted up the doll. “Hard to say. Maybe a few? Maybe? Damn. Need to call… what was her name? Welp. I need to call her again, whatever her name is.”

“Ah, Padawan Carsen. I trust the mission is unfolding smoothly?”

“No small talk, I’m in the sun. Now tell me what comes next.”

“I… I think I might have enough to triangulate the location within the next ten minutes. I’m sending you the deactivation code now, so you can head on over directly. Thanks again for leaving your Astromech here with us. With the central computer down, his processing power is all we’ve got.”

“Right.” Giving him up had been hard. “Let me know when you’ve got something. I’ll just be… thinking of something cool. Blasted binary star system…”

She got another call as soon as she hung up on Hare’en. “Hey, boss. You got any sundaes?”

“What kind of question is that? Do you think I can enjoy a sundae when my sweet little Padawan is suffering in the sun?” He made a slurping sound and Kira straightened up indignantly.

“Hey!”

He laughed. “Sorry. And also sorry for putting this all on you. You’re more than ready for solo missions, but I wish I could at least be close enough to cheer you on. Anyway, you finished planting all those sensors?”

“Yeah. Any news about the Czerka Type Twelve, or whatever?”

“They’re still digging at the site. I hear Kamus and Less Sand Day’s testimonies have already started putting Czerka in a lot of trouble. They’re unlikely to bug us again for a little while.”

“Hang on, I’m getting another call. It might be Hare’en. I’ll just patch you in… huh?”

Her caller wasn’t anyone she knew. He was a pureblood Sith, though it was hard to tell if he was part of the Order or not thanks to his desert gear.

“Hello, Jedi.”

“Who are you?” Kira wondered, before recognition flashed. “Wait, you were one of the Sith alongside Darth Angral, weren’t you?”

“Indeed, I was. I am Lord Praven. But you are not the Jedi I’m looking for. My Master’s enemy. My student’s vanquisher.”

“If you mean me, Kira has me patched in. Say whatever it is you need to.”

“My Master seeks retribution for his son’s death. I must give it to him. When my Master heard you were on this planet, he demanded I power up the Shock Drum. He’ll destroy the entire world to kill you.”

“First of all, why is his retribution more important than anyone else’s? Your Master has killed billions of civilians. And he aims to kill billions more! Heck, your dearly departed apprentice nearly starved a trillion people to death!”

“I will not argue with you. It is not mine to question, merely to serve.”

“And second of all, the chances of me dying from the Shock Drum are minute! This is why you don’t use a tactical warhead to hunt a single fugitive. Your Master is insane.”

The pureblood sighed. “Perhaps your death will make him whole again. I have changed the activation code to the Shock Drum. If you want the new code, come and claim it from my dead body! I will be waiting for you in a valley near the Dune Sea.”

“Kira, I’m coming too. Heatstroke, or no heatstroke, I can’t let you face a Sith alone.”

“I’m glad for the company, but please come in the ship! Minimize your exposure to the suns!”

“Alright. Stay where you are. We’ll come pick you up in thirty minutes.”

Kira sighed and looked at the straw doll. “Don’t worry, Master. You’ll always be my second-best friend.”

Meanwhile, on Tython

“The situation on Fondor has been resolved,” Seraphim concluded his report. The man stood tall and proud, his chest thrust out and fists on hips. “The fleeing escapees were saved, and the Dreadnought Bloodfeather has been destroyed. It looks like Jedi Arnor is a free woman again. She’s a little beat up though, so it might take a while before she can present herself for debrief.”

“Thank you for your report, Seraphim,” Satele inclined her head. “You have done the Republic a great service today. May the Force be with you.”

“Next on the agenda… an update from Vajra,” Gnost read out. “And a proposal.”

“I hope he’s not requesting that we Knight his security risk of a Padawan,” Jaric grumbled.

“I doubt it. He and Kira both want Bela to be present on that happy occasion. Patch him in, please.”

“It’s not a transmission, but a recording,” Gnost said, pressing a switch beside him.

“Good day, Masters. I’m sorry I have to do this via recording, but Tatooine didn’t agree with me. I am resting right now, but I needed to inform you of a situation here on the planet.”

Vajra gave a brief summary of the project which Czerka designated as a ‘Type-Seven device.’ There wasn’t a lot to go on yet, but the fact that a Czerka hitman had opened fire on a Jedi was alone enough to trigger a dozen alarm bells.

“The real problem here,” Vajra went on, “is just how many people landed here and brushed off Agent Fauler’s urgent request for aid. Master Devel, Jedi Pridence, Havoc Squad, and at least seven other capable parties. Even I almost ignored it, given the urgency of my mission. But there were others who could easily have helped—Havoc Squad for instance, whose mission to punish traitors might be important to them, but it pales when compared to the big picture. Just imagine if Czerka had gotten their hands on whatever superweapon it is that lies beneath the sands of Tatooine. I think a contingency clause like a ‘code black’ is needed which obliges Jedi and armed forces alike to drop what they’re doing unless it’s just as critical. Thankfully, the crisis is unlikely to truly emerge from its shell now that Les… Lock Sand Dee? I think that’s his name? Now that he’s out of the picture, the urgency should be gone, though I still believe that the weapon needs to be seen to, and soon. I don’t know if I can do this personally, however. As I said, I am not at my best on a hot planet. Still, it might be possible, if I’m only out in the sun for a few hours… anyway, that concludes this part of the report. Rest assured, Kira is making great progress in finding the Shock Drum. I hope to have found Master Kiwiiks by this time tomorrow. I hope we do. Kira says her Master’s life force is growing ever weaker. May the Force be with us.”

“Type Sevens have always been troublesome,” Jaric complained. “When coupled with the Rakata, you know it’s a cut above the rest. I volunteer to deal with this myself.”

“And I should go too, to chronicle whatever I can find,” Gnost added. “As everyone here knows, Rakata tech is as illuminating as it is dangerous. Attuned to the Force in ways we can’t imagine. Such knowledge needs to be found, so that we can better understand attempts to recreate it.”

“A good idea,” Tol nodded. “I approve.”

“As do I,” Syo said. “We should reach out to Agent Fauler and ask him to let us know directly when the door has been excavated, so that you don’t arrive there only to cool your heels for the next five years.”

Everyone chuckled and nodded.

“Then it’s approved,” Satele said, in something of a hurry to finish today. “What’s next on our agenda?”

“A message from Master Nomen Karr,” Gnost said. “As well as a follow-up from his Padawan.”

“I wonder if he’s about to report a great triumph in his personal crusade?” Jaric said sarcastically. “If his Padawan has sniffed out another puff of smoke that’s not really there?”

“Let’s hear it.”

A holo of a bearded man appeared in front of them. Nomen Karr was still a handsome man despite being a decade older than Satele.

“Good day, my esteemed colleagues,” he began as he always did. “It pains me to be calling in to register a complaint against a fellow Jedi, but it needs to be done.”

“Oh?” Satele’s eyebrows rose. She looked around to find confusion and apprehension on all faces around her. Jedi rarely ever brought up small charges against fellow Jedi to the Council. Normally, it was dealt with directly. If the offending Jedi was a Padawan, the complaint was taken to their Master first.

“The Jedi in question is Vajra Devarath,” Master Nomen almost spat out the name, his face contorting for a moment. “He approached my Padawan behind my back and tried to lead her astray. He showered her with words of doubt and confusion. My Padawan was much dismayed by what he had to tell her. But that’s not the end of it. By now, I am sure you are all aware of my Padawan’s power? Her miraculous gift of Sight, which can pierce all lies and deceptions? The perfect tool to seek out truth? It has spoken. She looked upon Vajra and found a monster lurking within his heart. It was so fearsome, it frightened her senseless. She was wailing incoherently when I found her, abandoned and alone. I understand that Vajra is a rising star of our Order. He is the apple of more than a few Council eyes. But make no mistake, he is a grave danger to us! A viper poised to strike at our very heart! I request the Council restrict his movements until he can be redeemed back into the Light. Good day to you.”

Everyone in the room was too shocked to pause the recording in order to speak. Satele more so than others. A fury burned in her gut that she longed to give voice to, but before she could gather the wits to speak, the next recording in the series began to play.

It was a small woman, around Jasme’s age. Her straight black hair sat neatly against her neck. She bowed humbly before the Council and proceeded to speak.

“Greetings, respected Masters of the Council. My name is Jaesa Willsaam. I apologize for putting in my little postscript, but I couldn’t not do it. I… I feel conflicted for giving testimony counter to what my Master just did, but I need to give the whole truth, since it’s being brought before you. Please forgive my Master; he is merely overprotective of my talent. He meant no harm.” She took a deep breath. “Regarding the matter of Master Vajra’s words to me… I assure you, they were innocent enough. He wanted me to be sure of the path I was on. To really introspect. And I did. I still am. I suppose Master Karr interpreted my questions as a sign that I wanted to walk a different path. Coming to the vision… it was really intense. He and Kira Carsen came to say their goodbyes to us, but I was the only one in the house. I let them in, and gave them tea. But there was something about Master Vajra… like he was hiding something. I needed to know what it was, so I Looked. I saw a monstrosity, just as Master Karr said. It was this great beast with many heads whose breath spewed a cloud of poison into the air. Its body was wrapped around his heart. It looked at me, and the eye contact was enough to give me nightmares. Whatever it is, Master Vajra houses great darkness within himself… although he showed no outward signs of it. In fact, one might believe his façade to be the real Vajra. Master Nomen didn’t exaggerate about that. My apologies again for the impertinence. Goodbye.” She bowed deeply, and her holo disappeared.

“What… was that?!” Satele whispered, seething with outrage.

Gnost turned to Kana. “Padawan, would you mind summoning Archivist Jasme? I think she might have some insights into these charges.”

The Falleen bowed and left silently.

“Even I have difficulty believing such a thing,” Jaric snorted. “He’s starting to grow horns, and he’s way too attached to his Padawan—”

“Debatable,” Syo said softly.

“—but if he was a servant of the Darkside, we’d all Sense it. Especially if he hid this… monster!”

“I think Nomen has been allowed far too much freedom,” Syo said. “Not to mention indulgence.”

“And this Jaesa Willsaam. Whatever gift she possesses is clearly not so mighty after all if it feeds her such a big lie.”

The doors opened, and in walked Kana and Jasme, holding several weighty tomes in her hand. “You summoned me, Masters?”

“She was passing by the door,” Kana snorted. “Just my luck.”

“Jasme, you may want to keep the books down. And… maybe stay away from anything breakable. Master Gnost, please show her the accusation.”

The word ‘accusation’ stumped Jasme for a moment, but she watched it without questioning. As soon as Nomen mentioned Vajra’s name and started rolling out his charges, her expression grew stormy. Like Satele, Jasme was too incensed to speak when Nomen was finished, and the squawk denoting her first attempt at speech was cut off by Jaesa’s testimony. Jasme closed her mouth and listened to the rest, her expression shifting over the course of the message, from outrage to alarm.

Once the recording had ended, Jasme stood stunned for a second. Eventually, she shook it off and asked, “You—you don’t seriously believe this tripe, do you?”

“No,” Jaric said firmly. “Whatever his immaturities, Vajra has been a miracle worker like none other. This Jaesa Willsaam, on the other hand, is an untried, sheltered child so far as I’m concerned; one whose Master has been feeding her delusions of grandeur. And Nomen’s obsession with Darth Wide has been making us nervous for months now.”

“There is a reason why this Council does not act on Visions alone—” Tol began.

“Because of the Masters of Taris, I know,” Jasme said impatiently. “But in all honesty, I kinda believe Jaesa’s vision. However, I believe she’s grossly misinterpreted what she saw, proving how inaccurate it is.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d have something to share.”

“Given the timing… right after he was done with his mission on Nar Shaddaa, correct? I might have something,” Jasme said. “It… it’s an incident related to the SIS agent, Galen. The one who got captured and turned into a Power Guard. Vajra… knew he was going to ask for mercy, and wanted to be able to persuade him otherwise. So he did something utterly bull-headed. He watched the recording of Sadic turning Galen into a cyborg. Kira told me that he had this strange notion that it was arrogant to try to persuade Galen to withdraw his request without knowing what he went through. That, coupled with all the horrors he’s seen recently, horrors he wasn’t ready for—” Jasme through a disgruntled look around. “—the ‘monster’ in question is probably his trauma given form. Sort of. He does have a history of mental health problems after all.”

“I see,” Satele said softly, sitting back and pondering Jasme’s words.

“If this is so, Vajra must have been highly troubled. Why didn’t we Sense it when he stood before us?” Gnost asked

“Because of the Emperor, I’d say,” Tol answered. “He was high on adrenaline when we met him.”

“That explains it,” Satele nodded. “Jasme, did you see signs of distress afterwards?”

“Yes,” Jasme confirmed. “Given the increased dangers in my career change, he wanted to teach me the 101 of his approach to Lightsaber combat, so we trained together for a good two hours. All was okay at first, but he started to lose focus midway. He’d just trail off in the middle of a sentence. Rapid flashes of light made him jump. I imagine he has other issues I didn’t get to see in that brief time. I insisted he get some rest while he was here, but he got deployed again before he could get it. Kira promised to look after him for me.”

“I see. You’ve been most helpful, Jasme. Thank you. You may leave.”

“Don’t forget the books,” Gnost added as she turned to leave. She jogged back, red-faced, and left with her burdens in her hands.

“Nomen needs to be assessed for corruption,” Nikil said. “And his Padawan needs to be extricated from him before whatever potential she has is… focused in the wrong place.”

“Ironic that he was the one pushing for someone else to be reeled in for the same thing,” Oteg noted.

“We’ve asked Nomen to return to us before politely, but he ignored the invitation. I think we need to send in an escort this time.”

We don’t have Jedi to spare for multiple superweapons, but we can scrounge up a couple for a matter of disciplining a possibly rogue Master, Satele thought. I wonder what that says about us. “Master Syo, I think you should be the one to go fetch him. We don’t have the Knights to spare, but perhaps we can spare you for a few hours.”

“I can leave immediately. Does anyone know where he is?”

“He was supposed to arrive on Balmorra today,” Tol replied. “Investigating the disappearance of a Jedi. But he never takes his Apprentice on such dangerous missions. It’s possible she’s still on Nar Shaddaa.”

“Ask the Republic Embassy to confirm. Discreetly. If they’re there, go and bring her in. If we can get her out from under his thumb until we’ve confirmed his state, it will be enough.”

“Perhaps we need to consider the more overt route,” Satele suggested. “Order him back. If he ignores us, we strip him of his rank of Master and inform the Republic of the same. He will be forced to return to us with all his avenues drying up.”

“Such a course will cast a bad light on us, Grand Master,” Jaric protested. “In addition, a truly fallen Jedi wouldn’t act rationally. He might just get more desperate. Covert movements first, I say.”

“So be it.”

Tatooine

The mesa Lord Praven had guided them to was impossible to get to in their ship, so Master Vajra was forced to proceed on foot. Kira tried not to fume. The heat from outside was bad enough.

Still, couldn’t Lord Praven have just invited them to one of the many abandoned homesteads on Tatooine? Why did it have to be in such a difficult-to-reach place? Her Master was still unwell—he was already starting to pant like a dog, and his movement was an ungainly shuffle, completely different from his usual elegance fit for a throne room.

“Boss… this is desperate. You’re barely able to stand right now. I think you should be backup this time.”

He jumped when she spoke up, as though he had forgotten she was there, then nodded.

His steps slowed, as though he was losing… well, she hated to use the word steam. She moved to catch him if he stumbled, but he did not. Kira sighed. Watching over him was proving to be a strenuous exercise. Him being out here was a gamble they could not avoid. They had looked through Praven’s record en route, and he was not the sort of opponent that Kira could take on as her first solo fight.

Master Vajra had tried reaching Master Devel, but he was already needed offworld.

In peak form, her Master should be able to beat Praven hands down. But like this…

“I think I see an opening,” Kira said after a lot of walking. “I hope it’s cooler in there!”

Master Vajra spoke at last. “I’m not counting on it. This world is alive, and it wants to be hot.”

The exited to find themselves in a large cavern which opened into a plateau. Jagged cliffs above prevented the Garuda from landing directly, but there was a smaller Imperial ship which had managed to enter the gap.

Praven was waiting for them at the very edge. Unlike them, he seemed to bask in the rays from the suns.

“Welcome, Jedi. I applaud you for marching to your execution.”

“A courtesy I wish Angral would do us,” Master Vajra replied. “I ask you again, why is it that he deserves retribution, but the people he has killed don’t?”

“And I say again that it is not mine to question.”

“Remind me to thank Jasme,” the boss told Kira. “For teaching me the importance of questioning.” Turning to Praven, he asked, “So is that your philosophy? As long as your personal honor is untarnished, you don’t mind if your liege does as he pleases?”

“Don’t try to understand. A Jedi cannot understand.”

“It’s useless, Master. And we’re on a timer.” Kira stepped forward and drew her Saberstaff. “We’ll lecture him after we’ve stopped the countdown.”

“Right. Priorities.”

Praven was enraged. “You would send your apprentice to fight me? Am I not worthy of your attention?”

“Tatooine doesn’t agree with me,” the boss said, leaning against a stone shelf. “It’s a small miracle I’m even standing.”

Praven blinked. “What?”

“It’s true,” Kira snarled. “Now do you want to do this, or what?”

Praven cocked his head for a moment, then drew his Lightsaber. “So be it.”

Kira waited for him to salute before making her move. She danced closer, making her approach in a zigzag line. She closed the last few meters in a run and leapt into the air, striking with a downward jab. Praven blocked the attack before unleashing one of his own.

Kira blocked the chop aimed at her face and another pair at her ribs before counterattacking. He leaned out of the way, and the tip of her blade seared past him. Using his momentum, he smashed her blade upwards so that her reverse sweep missed his mouth.

His blade descended on her head, forcing Kira to cartwheel to the side. The Sith didn’t let up on his momentum, and rushed her with a flurry of attacks which Kira had no difficulty blocking at first, but each impact jarred her joints.

“Not bad,” he said approvingly as their blades locked. “You were Master Kiwiiks’ Padawan first, correct?” He attacked her shoulder, and she blocked, then kicked at his stomach. He dodged, then landed an elbow on her shin.

Kira fell with a curse, but backflipped to avoid the coup-de-grace. Thankfully, the blow hadn’t broken anything.

“She favored the use of the Force rather than the blade. In this, at least, you surpass her. Let’s see how you fare in the other aspect, shall we?”

Praven began hurling rocks at her, then fired a stream of Force Lightning. Kira managed to evade the rocks, and tossed a few right back at him, but the Lightning stymied her. She was reduced to blocking it with her Lightsaber. She tried to leap out of the way of another hail of rocks, but her struck leg buckled when she landed. She fell with a cry, and Praven leapt at his chance…

Only for her to be Pulled away.

“Oh. I’d almost forgotten you were here.” Praven sounded surprised by that.

“Kira really did well, didn’t she? I guess it’s my turn now.”

“As it should be.” Praven frowned. “Hmmm… you really do look ill. A mere breeze should be enough to knock you over.”

Kira rose painfully, noting the clouds in her Master’s eyes.

“I suppose that makes this… a fair fight.”

“What did you say?”

“I think it’s best I just show you.” Master Vajra raised his blade. “En Garde.”

Praven flourished his blade and held it in a side stance. He shifted to the boss’ right. The Raudra’s eyes followed him, but he remained still. Pity filled Praven’s orange eyes.

“I will make this quick.”

He charged in again, aiming a blinding flurry of strikes at the youth’s chest and neck. Master Vajra’s blade intercepted each strike with only the slightest movement of his body.

Praven’s eyes widened, and he threw more of himself behind his attacks.

The speed and power of his blades increased, and eventually, Master Vajra had to begin moving his body. But it was only a small win for Praven, who was now attacking with an all-out ferocity that put his prior attack on Kira to shame.

Kira exhaled in surprise. Praven really was good. He might be a match for a few top-fifty swordsmen in the Jedi order. But the question was, could he beat her Master in this state?

Kira was afraid that was a yes. Each salvo claimed a heavy tax on his reserves, and the Sith noticed. Denied of the quick victory, he instead tried to overwhelm her Master’s weakened body. He used leaps, dashes and rolls to force Vajra to move more than just his blade. And although the Sith was using more energy in this clash, it was the Jedi who had less to expend. But a moment came when her Master suddenly began moving for real.

Was forced to.

Praven hurled a particularly large boulder at him, and he leapt out of the way to avoid it. He then retaliated by going on the offensive. He spun into the Sith’s intended path and stabbed at his heart. Caught off-guard, it was Praven’s turn to fall back.

But the attack didn’t last, and soon enough, Master Vajra faltered enough for Praven to retake the initiative. Still, that didn’t mean his opponent was easy meat. He still had enough strength to counter the Pureblood’s offensive.

What a show it was turning out to be! The air around both men was saturated with the clash of red and blue plasma; the sound of Lightsabers clashing echoed through the caverns beyond the two men.

Her Master slowly gave ground under the blows which fell like leaves in an autumn storm; but he was not out. Not yet.

“Fall, damn you!” Praven roared and Pushed with the Force. Her Master sidestepped the attack, then backed away under another mixed series of attacks—blade, rocks, direct Force attacks, and even a blast of Lightning.

He batted aside the Lightsaber, and evaded the Force attacks. Praven used a Lightning flash to flank her Master, but the Jedi saw it coming. He ducked under the blow and swung at the Sith’s blade. His blade spun in an arc, scoring a slight gash on Praven’s face.

Praven backhanded, and this time the blow landed. Master Vajra was struck in the face, the blow only softened by his veil and the Force.

But his guard was momentarily down, and Praven seized the opportunity. A stabbing strike scored a gash on Vajra’s left flank—the first time Kira had ever seen him take a wound in a fight. The follow-up chop almost cut him in half, but her Master managed to dodge. The front of his robes were singed, however.

Vajra flipped out of the danger zone and rushed right back in, cutting off a piece of Praven’s armor.

“Not bad,” Master Vajra said softly. Kira couldn’t tell if he was calm, or drained. “But do you see what I mean? If we had fought in almost any other environment—”

“I’d have been defeated long ago,” Praven finished bitterly. “You have a strength I could not have foreseen. It’s no wonder you defeated Lord Tarnis.”

“Face it. Your Lord Tarnis wasn’t training to be a warrior. I wonder if he even listened during your lessons.”

“He did. But four years of neglect left him rusted.” Praven looked at his opponent with respect. “But it’s clear who the victor here is. You are seconds from falling. Accept your fate. I will give you a warrior’s death, and a warrior’s funeral.”

Holstering his Lightsaber, he fired a stream of Lightning with both hands… but it didn’t work. The Lightning fizzled out when it got close to its target.

“I’ve seen this trick enough to know how to unravel it,” Vajra whispered. “At least, at this power setting.”

“Incredible…” Praven whispered. He hurled rubble and rocks once again, but his opponent had dug out his final reserves of strength.

Without warning, he burst forth like a thunderbolt, his blade cutting through Praven’s arms like butter. The Sith Lord growled. Then he screamed—a shout whose volume was amplified by the Force.

Unprepared, her Master was struck back. He clapped a pair of arms to his ears, cursing silently.

Oh, right! His hearing was better than Kira’s!

Shit… this decided the match, didn’t it? Just one more Scream, a stronger one, and her Master was done for—but he surprised her.

A bubble shimmered into existence around Praven’s when he tried that a second time, and the scream was reflected right back at him. The only sound escaping the bubble was channelled upwards, and the ceiling was blown off. A large pile of rocks fell on the Sith, who fell to his knees in agony, screaming in pain.

The Sith fell face-first into the dirt, utterly defeated. His forearms were stumps, blood oozed out of his ears. “Brilliant,” he mumbled. “Brilliant! You are… an astounding warrior.”

Kira’s Master failed to rise, but he turned his eyes to Kira, who nodded.

“The code. Now.”

“It’s on my belt. Second pouch on the right of the buckle.” He closed his eyes and waited. “Well? Aren’t you going to kill me?”

“Not the Jedi way to kill a defeated opponent,” Kira replied. “But we promised you a long chat afterwards. So, we’ll be taking you with us.”

The Sith seemed confused. Kira sighed. He probably couldn’t hear right now. She took the stunner out of its sheath and pressed it against his neck. He made a rather comical gurgle and passed out.

Kira keyed her comm. “C2? We’ll leave the canyon in the Sith’s ship. Pick us up on the surface. We have to make up for lost time.”

#star wars #star wars the old republic #swtor #fanfic #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #jedi knight #hero of tython

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drawing-way-outside-the-lines · 1 year

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➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖

Chapter 30 - Old Messages, pt. 8. Episode 3.

Gabriella: She squad down next to them, drying her eyes with the back of her hand Guys.. she put a hand on each of their shoulders I'm sorry to interrupt, my sister is keeping up the field right now, that we hide under, and she can't go for 10 hours straight as I did… so we can't use too much time just sitting around. We still have a few things to sort out before I need to drive Andy back.

Andy: Nodded at her and grabbed the collar of Congo's shirt Just a bit more he pressed his lips against Congo's, french kissing him deeply

Gabriella: Stood up and walked to George You take Congo to the bistro, I'll take Andy to that coffee shop over there she pointed on the other side of the street I'll give you guys 15 minutes. I'm sorry it has to be so stressful, but we are running out of time. If you are done earlier, just signal me, alright?

George: He nodded and planted a soft kiss on her lips I agree… He cleared his throat Congo? I'm sorry, but I really need you to follow me, we are under a big time pressure…

Congo: Moaned softly and pulled his head away from Andy I'm gonna see you before we leave, I promise you. I'm gonna go with George now, and hurry him up, I promise. He smiled bright and dried his eyes with his sleeve I love you so much! Thank you for saving my life! And thank you for choosing me!

Andy: Nodded agreeing and dried his eyes, then grabbed Congo's hand when he offers to pull him up, kissing Congo a few times on his lips, before he let go of him and followed Gabriella to the coffee shop, where they soon sat down with a bit to drink, both of them deciding on a raspberry smoothie.

Congo: He sighed happily as he observed Andy from the window

George: Cleared throat I'm sorry to burst your bubble here. But I'm afraid I have some really horrible news about Andy, I really need to get out there. Trust me, I'm not happy having to deliver them now, and I would rather wait until you are done at your dads place, but after seeing A refuse Andy in case he was more like Marius mentally… you know…. autistic, as we talked about, may have been the case for Andy… I just want to at least give you the opportunity for you to back out, before we all get further involved in this… since I finally located the root of the problem-

Congo: Interrupted There will be no backing out… I would never be that cruel, backing out just because he was… I'm with Marius for heaven's sake… no matter how long that will last after today…

George: Cleared his throat Yes, I would imagine, but I have to explain anyway, but now I also have to make clear, that even if hard, I need you two, Andy and Congo, to keep dating Marius and A, like nothing happened. This is the hardest part, I know, but it must be done in order to keep you both safe. You'll have to still go on with asking Marius to move in with you, propose to him and continue your life as usual. Just DON'T marry him. Any marriage before your marriage with Andy, will break your bond with Andy. Just as well as he CAN'T marry A, obviously for the same reason. Gabriella is filling him in on all this right now… except this part, and now please don't interrupt me before I'm done. Andy isn't like Marius after all, but something horrible happened to him in his childhood. His eyes started flickering Please remain seated, for Andy will never get to learn any of this. It will break him completely. I'll go in and via hypnosis find out what exactly happened, and soothe child Andy within him, and that way fix it all for him. He took a big shaky breath and went on with a lump in his throat Andy was abused as a child. Whether he was raped or only fondled I do not know till I have been in there through hypnosis. He lit his pipe again and continued telling. The reason A and Andy took a break from therapy at my place, and returned to the city, was that A discovered that on a farm house not more than 700 meters from where my house is located, lived a man, who was always told to be a child molester. Cops could never find any evidences, so the man was never convicted. However, he had asked if there were any criminals in the neighborhood, he could… you know… snack on he frowned softly and as Gabriella mentioned this man, A said he would check him out, snoop around his place a bit. What A found at the basement of the farm was shocking. There were filled with children clothes, mainly female. Dirty mattresses with semen, chains, toys, locks of hair he had kept as souvenirs. And he found a keychain. A keychain with a little green and black guitar. He recognized it from a child picture Katherine had shown A, and as he sniffed it, it still had clear leftover smell of a younger Andy. So there were no doubt Andy had been in that basement. A didn't take it nice, he burned the farm down to the ground, with the man still inside. What he did to the man before he torched the place, I do not wanna know, but A assured me he was punished for his crimes. No one says he molested Andy, maybe he "only" did it to girls? But what I know is, one particular summer, Andy started acting strange. Few days later he fell of a horse, broke an arm and wanted to go home. He never returned to my house again, until now for therapy. Katherine always told me he refused to go. So something definitely marked him. As he was done he grabbed Congo's hands tightly, squeezing them a few times I understand if you want to walk away, if it's too much for you… but I promise you, I can fix him now.

Congo: Squeezed George back I will never desert him. I love him, no matter if he's fixed or broken. Thank you for telling me. He took a deep shaky breath, then cleared his throat, drying a few tears from his eyes Is there anything I should or shouldn't do, you know, when we are intimate… but also in general?

George: Shook his head softly No. Andy has blocked it all out. Adult Andy has no memory of the incident…. so just enjoy him as much as possible, and let him enjoy you smiled softly

Congo: Took another deep breath and nodded If you don't have more to add, could there possibly be time for him to at least join us for breakfast?

George: Smiled warmly Of course… He knocked the window and gave a sign for the others to join them, laughing as he saw how much Andy's face lit up

Andy: As he ran into the bistro, he quickly slided down next to Congo in his booth, linking his arm with his, and leaned his head on his shoulder, looking up at him with loving eyes I missed you!

Congo: Chuckled deeply, kissing Andy's hair I missed you too! What do you want for breakfast?

Andy: Smiles cheekily You!

George: Chuckled warmly I'm sorry my boy, there's no time for that… you'll have to eat something… hmm… less tasty winked at them both

Andy: Blushed lightly and sat up straight Alright, alright… he grabbed a menu and read it quickly 2 blueberry pancakes aaaand… no… make that 3 blueberry pancakes and an omelet… nothing to drink, I have my smoothie…

George: Waved at the waitress, smiling politely as she joins them Sorry about the food waste before. This time we will actually eat the food he winked at her and made her chuckle softly, then he went on I'll have the same as before, so will he nods at Congo who nods agreeing

Gabriella: Smiled friendly I'll have an omelet and a scone, please…

Congo: Smiled proudly And my fiance will have orders for Andy, kissing his forehead softly as he's done ordering

Andy: Blushed bright red, then suddenly looks around a bit nervous Wait… what… how… uh.. if you and Marius goes down here… now they have seen you with me.. your fiance… and.. well.. sighed a bit frustrated

Gabriella: Laughs softly as Congo seems to catch on to Andy's nervousness Relax guys… my clan is on it… they will make sure no one will remember anything here, as soon as we leave, I'll give them a call, and everyone in this city will only remember seeing Congo and a work associate, looking nothing like my honey bunny, having breakfast and discussing expanding Congo's house for Marius to move in. So just in case someone should ask around for anyone down here… well… that's what they will find… no trucks, no blue mohawks, no 'Gypsy' looking female without shoes… and no elderly sex god smoking a pipe she kissed George's cheek as he smiled pleased, puffing his pipe

Andy: Wrinkled his nose Eww no! Please!

Gabriella: Laughed heartly Andy, sweetheart, he's not that much older than Congo! Don't be fooled… under his clothes he's not 60+… does Congo look 48 under his clothes?

Andy: Bit his lips cheekily Not at all… he's as firm as I am… everywhere moans softly but he doesn't look 48 above the clothes either*

Gabriella: Nodded and smiled warmly True… he doesn't look a day over 40

Andy: Nodded and smiled proudly I know. And trust me… he's the real sex god here!

Gabriella and George: Both laughed out warmly

Congo: Blushed lightly and kissed Andy's hair

Gabriella: Winked at Andy I do not doubt you the slightest, and if he wasn't already taken, I would run away with him winked at Congo and sipped her smoothie

Andy: He pulled his tongue at her and leaned his head on Congo's shoulder again, moaning satisfied as Congo ran his fingers through his mohawk I wish we didn't have to go home… that we could just stay here forever sighed softly

Congo: Sighed deeply I know sweetheart… I know.

George: Caressed Gabriella's hand on the table Gaby and will make sure that day will come as fast as possible… but until then, when you aren't together, which can't be everyday, not even back in the city… you will have to force yourself to be in as normal as possible relationship with your partners. Giving them the illusion of everything being okay. It's the only way possible we can all pass this speed bump with our lives intact.

Andy: Sighed deeply We know George… don't spoil breakfast before it arrives!

George: Chuckled softly Alright, alright. I just want to make sure you both know this will probably be the hardest thing to overcome in your whole life…

Gabriella: Smiled softly But it will be worth it…

Andy: Nodded agreeing I'm sure it will, I have no doubt softly caressed Congo's arm

Gabriella: Smiled warmly I know… I'm with my mate gently pads Georges hand

Andy: Lifted his head from Congo's shoulder is George?

Gabriella: Smiled warmly He sure is…

Andy: Looked at both of them with a big smile, then suddenly froze a bit But wait… you guys don't wanna get married?

Gabriella: Chuckled softly He got me convinced… we will get married as soon as we settle for a date, but it should be sometime in the late fall, I think? Smiled warmly at George

George: Nodded softly at Gabriella and planted a kiss on her cheek, then nodded at the waitress as she arrived with the food

Andy: Looked curious at them both So where's the rings?

George: Chuckled softly Where are your rings?

Andy: Proudly reached out his hand with the ring

Gabriella: Grabbed his hand and studied the ring Nice… very simple… I like it.

Andy: Nodded even prouder On the inside, there's a heart and it says forever and ever.

Gabriella: Smiled softly at Congo

George: Sighed softly and smiled happily Now isn't that just precious? You two make me so happy inside! Congratulations to you both. You have my blessings!

Congo: Nodded softly Thank you George.

George: Looked questioning at Congo So where's yours Congo?

Andy: Smiled a bit shyly, then slowly unbuttoned the first few buttons of Congo's shirt, dragging the fabric a bit to the side, revealing the burn mark

George: Smiled softly I see… very personally…

Congo: Nodded softly I don't wear rings… well, I'll wear a wedding ring of course… but…beside that I'm not into wearing jewelries… so this was the second best I could come up with smiled warmly

Gabriella: Sighed softly And just above the heart… you just gotta love romantic men padded George's hand softly She sighed gently I hate to be bossy, but please eat guys… we gotta leave soon…

Andy: *Sighed softly and dug in, followed by the rest of them. During the meal there wasn't said much, only George explaining due to short time, he will follow Andy and Gabriella back to the city, in his own car, and drop by Andy's parents to tell them the happy news and explain everything in details. Andy also ran the idea about a weekend getaway with Congo, his parents and Paul by them, and it was fast agreed upon, that it would be the perfect opportunity to get married, if they were both up for the ultra fast wedding, which they both agreed to. Gabriella mentioned they could all go to Congo's spare house, some of her clan members could then show up at the wedding day and perform the ceremony, leaving them all in protected atmosphere, and as well do the adoption the same day, so everything is taken care of as soon as possible, to provide a security blanket for both Congo and Andy. Along the way Gabriella also insist in Paul, George, Katherine and Leonard to be adopted too. Just to be on the safe side.

Andy: As they were all done eating, he asked if there was a little time for him and Congo to step outside and be alone a bit, smiling satisfied as George agreed they will need a little time for a proper goodbye, since next time they will meet, it will most likely be around their partners. As Congo and Andy stepped outside, Andy quickly pushed him around a corner, shoving Congo up against the wall We are getting married! Possible in less than 2 months from now!

Congo: Nodded a bit overwhelmed and chuckles warmly It's a bit overwhelming, but there's nothing I want more than to be yours!

Andy: Squealed loudly I just wanna be yours as well! Let's do this!

Congo: Laughed warmly and wrapped his arms around Andy Kiss me silly!

Andy: Smiled bright, then wrapped his arms around Congo as well, kissing him tenderly

Congo: After few minutes kissing, he pulled back a bit, pointing at a bench not far away from where they stand What do you say we sit down a few minutes, until the others pick us up?

Andy: Sighed deeply and nodded softly Okay… let's do that. He grabbed Congo's hand and lead him to the bench, and as Congo sits down, he sits down next to him, leaning his body against Congo's chest, wrapping Congo's arms around him I love this… wrapping myself in you… I feel so safe…. so soothed… he picked up one of Congo's hands and softly planted a kiss on the back of it I could sit like this forever… watching the forest, listening to the birds, enjoying the sunlight, basking in your scent, kissing your hand, feeling your breath on my skin… tasting your lips on my lips…

Congo: Smiled softly blowing a bit of extra air out of his nose So life with me won't get boring for you in the long run?

Andy: Turned his head slightly and looked up at Congo with bright eyes Of course not! Who's the silly one now?!

Congo: Chuckled softly and kissed Andy's mohawk.

#unicornmanes #trigger warning:#brief mentioning of child abuse #brief mentioning of child molester #graphic scene #I apologize the at times weird format #I just don't have as much time to edit these days as I'd like #please be patient #thank you <3 #Andycorn #Andy Shaw-Thompson #Gabriella Lupei #George Cullman #Congo Shaw

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damienthepious · 2 years

Text

it’s NaNoWriMo time my good duckies. but before november started i wrote a decent sized chapter for y’all :)

Tomorrow’s Some Kind Of Strangerland (chapter 8)

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [ao3] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum & The Keep, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, The Keep, Sir Damien, Rilla, Queen Mira, Original Monster Character(s)

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ceasefire, Pre-Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, (some characters tagged will not appear until later chapters), canonical character illness, asking for help, (i still dn’t know how to tag things rip), (uhhhhh canon-typical fantasy monster-hatred? that’s gonna be a thing)

Summary: When Mira took the throne, she did what no human ruler in living memory has done - she reached out, and brokered peace with the monsters. It is a shaky, uncertain sort of peace, but she and the current monster Senate have managed to maintain it for a handful of years now with only minor incident.

Lord Arum has not interacted with the human infection in the Northern Wilds since the ceasefire, but when his Keep becomes ill past his own ability to cure, the Senate has a peculiar idea for how to help the isolated Lord while testing the goodwill of their tentative allies at the same time.

Chapter Summary: An average trip to the market with a monster.

Chapter Notes: HELLO AND GOODBYE IT'S NANOWRIMO TIME!!! I spent all of halloween writing this chapter so i would have something substantial before I abandoned the bouquet for the month to go at NaNoWriMo again. I might do drabbles, but I also might not, I don't know if I'll have the time or the energy for extra projects even if they ARE tiny. But that's okay, I'll be back in December either way :) If you wanna be buddies on the NaNo site I go by Marielle Madden over there! I'll be writing basically backstory for my larp/dnd character i've been obsessing over. We can do word sprints or something, let's GO. 💖💘💖💘💖

and some WARNINGS for the chapter itself: some Canon-typical monster hatred and bigotry, a mob, physical assault, and mild injury.

Arum slips back into his borrowed bedroom before Sir Damien decides to make a nuisance of himself, this morning. It is still a near thing (the creature must wake abysmally early, perhaps even before the sunrise, chipper and obnoxious as a rooster), but the knight does not knock until after Arum is ready to greet him. He almost looks surprised, when Arum pulls the hidden door open, his lip curling over his sharp teeth almost without conscious effort.

"Good morning," he says, his tone still bright and startled, and then he immediately winces, as if he did not intend to give Arum the grace of a greeting and he would prefer to rescind the courtesy. "Rather-"

"I expect you have brought our morning meal again," Arum interrupts, before the creature can get too far ahead of himself, and Damien blinks and glances down to the tray in his hands, clearly having forgotten about it.

"Er... right." He drops his eyes, shuffling to the side to make his way around Arum and settle at the little table, setting out the food.

They eat in silence again. Arum tries to spend this little pause thinking on further solutions, creatures he could make to try to work towards solving the Keep's illness on his own-

Sir Damien exists to serve as a distraction, possibly. Something of the meter of his poem from the night before- it catches in the back of Arum's mind, bouncing there and making it impossible to think. Or, at least, to think of anything remotely useful.

Obnoxious.

Small comfort: Sir Damien looks precisely as irritable and uncomfortable as Arum feels.

"How long will this little outing take, anyway?" Arum asks, after they've finished, feeling preemptively exhausted.

"It will take as long as it needs to," Damien says, flat and vaguely sour, and then he sighs. "A quick trip to the market, likely. A few shops. The queen insisted upon providing a small allowance with which to purchase the gift, as well, so you need not worry upon that front."

"I have my own coin," Arum snaps, insulted, and Damien furrows his brow. "I do not need to be paid for."

"Queen Mira insisted," he says again, as if that ends the discussion, and when Arum inhales to argue further he continues, "As you were unaware of the custom, she says that it would not be fair to press such an... imposition upon you. The act of choosing the gift is enough."

"The lie, you mean?"

Damien ignores his sneering with fair competence. "I imagine I will be perfectly able to find a number of suiting gifts without much trouble, and then you may choose between them. Hardly a lie at all."

It makes enough sense that the poet would know the tastes of his own betrothed, of course, and the strategy is... nearly clever. He will need to find a way to pay the queen back, then, soon enough. It would not do to be any more in her debt than he already is, despite her previous insistence to the contrary.

Arum resists the urge to sigh, and simply stands, resettling his cape.

"Very well. Let's get this over with, then."

Damien gives him another look, as if Arum's eagerness to have done with this whole day is somehow meant to insult him personally, but he does not say anything. He nods, and moves to open the door.

The market square is slightly less crowded than it was the day Damien met Arum, but only slightly. Despite that, Lord Arum glares balefully at the civilians as Damien leads them towards the section of shops he thinks will be most promising.

Damien bites his tongue. Berating the monster will do very little, and to be entirely frank-

He would rather not do anything to provoke any more attention than strictly necessary while out and about with a monster. He can already feel eyes upon him, worry and scrutiny and judgment from the citizenry. He might wither and die if any of his fellow knights see him so occupied in public. Lord Arum is not exactly inconspicuous, either, considering the height and the horns and the vivid purple of his cape and his eyes. He stands out like a flash of lightning, and he is rather clearly following Damien through the square.

He considers a few shops, weighing options in his mind, trying to remember tools and trinkets his flower has mentioned a desire for in the past. He settles on a glassblower, the shop filled with delicate instruments and bottles and vases. Rilla is always in need of containers for her herbs and mixtures, of course, and while she is not preoccupied with aesthetic over function... well, the two can coexist, regardless. An item may be as beautiful as it is functional.

He glances back towards Arum from in front of the shop, trying not to feel the tense annoyance bleeding off the monster in waves.

"Well?" Arum says, his eyes flicking behind Damien, scanning the crowd. "Have you found something yet?"

"Just here," he says. "Though... the shop is... fairly small. It does not seem that it would accommodate someone of your... stature."

Arum tips his head towards the shop, eying the narrow aisles between shelves, the delicate glasswork balanced in cases and on little wooden stands, the notably low ceilings, and his cheek twitches. "Hm," he says simply. "I suppose I should... remain... out here, then."

Damien considers his tone, for a long moment, trying to decide if the flat discomfort might belie something more nefarious, but- well, the longer he spends in that effort, the longer they need be out in the market entirely. Best to find something quick. He nods.

"I won't be long," he says, and before the monster can make a rejoinder, he slips inside.

He does get caught up, but only for a few minutes. He's selecting a gift for his beloved; how could he possibly commit any but the most serious effort to that cause? She deserves something truly beautiful, even if she is meant to receive it from a monster.

The noise outside catches his attention while he's investigating the relative merits of two different sets of vials, and he nearly knocks both sets to the floor as he straightens, trying to get a look outside at the sudden- is that shouting?

The place is full of glass. Damien can see the colors of Lord Arum through the window, distorted between a thousand tiny trinkets, and beyond him- other figures. He cannot see properly, but- something about the noise and the vague suggestion of Arum's stance sends the sensation of ice down into the pit of his stomach. He moves, as quickly as he is able within so fragile a place.

"-left alone," Arum hisses as Damien slips through the door, and he realizes quickly that the monster has either backed into the alley between this building and the next, or he has been backed into it by the crowd currently blocking the way. "I do not know why such a simple concept is lost on the lot of you."

"Your kind are getting too comfortable here," a voice sneers, and the crowd murmurs agreement even as Damien starts to push through, his armor a rather firm argument in his favor. "We've had enough of-"

"Do I look comfortable, human?" Arum says, his tone utterly derisive as he pulls his head back, and Damien wants to groan. Antagonizing, even while surrounded by the growing core of a mob. Damien can feel the tension already, a small flame yet, but not one to be underestimated. Some of those in the crowd are laborers, carrying tools that can very well be put to more violent use, and-

Damien sees the knife. Not in the hands of the loud one, the one riling the crowd, but the man at his side, playing a long narrow knife between his fingers with his pale mean eyes fixed on Lord Arum. He can't tell- the distance and the shuffling of the crowd make it impossible for Damien to tell if Arum is aware of the weapon as well. But-

"Strolling through the market, all haughty and dressed in finery, with one of our knights for an escort? Who do you think you are? I don't know what sort of nobility beasts and bastards like to pretend to be, but around here you're just another animal."

Arum's jaw tightens, but he does not respond. The quiet man with the knife, however, takes his turn to speak.

"I think that's a lesson that needs taught," he says, almost too quietly to be heard above the growing murmur surrounding them. "Wild animals don't do well in the city, do they? They go wandering where they don't belong... animals get put down."

Damien steps out from the mass of bodies between the two instigators and Lord Arum, lifting his chin and drawing his bow, though he keeps it low at his side, a warning and not a threat.

"I think that is rather enough," he snaps in his most knightly voice, and thankfully the crowd seems to thin immediately as the less committed onlookers flee at the first hint of authority. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Go on, stop this nonsense at once before I-"

"Defending a monster?" The loudmouth bares his teeth, then spits on the ground, his eyes blazing.

Damien narrows his eyes. "Defending the peace in this Citadel. I will not abide a mob. By rights I should arrest the both of you before you cause any more trouble. Drop your weapons right this instant, and I shall be content to call this a misunderstanding and we may all go on with our days."

By the time Damien says the word "mob," the majority of the citizens have disappeared again, leaving only stragglers and curious eyes at the edges. The two instigators stand firm, for the moment. The one with the cool pale eyes stares over his shoulder, still glaring at Lord Arum instead, still squeezing the hilt of his knife. The louder one manages his own glare for only a few moments longer before he flinches, apparently recognizing that his footing has moved out from under him. He glances to the side, hesitates, and then looks back towards Damien with an uncertain grimace.

Damien-

Damien locks eyes with the remaining threat, stepping slowly forward.

"I truly do not think that you mean to attack a Knight of the Crown, my good sir," he says, very mildly, and the man finally stops staring hatefully at the monster behind him, aiming that ire towards Damien instead.

Damien strides forward, and he does not stop until he is nearly nose to nose with the man. Or- they would be nose to nose, were Damien not somewhat less tall. Nevertheless. He breathes steady, and he lifts his free hand.

"Your knife. Now. Or you will be spending your night, at least, in the dungeon."

The man's face twitches, a muscle by his nose tensing as he clenches his teeth, and his arm jolts forward-

Damien twists and strikes a beat late, but the maneuver is well practiced and he manages to divest the man of his weapon and reposition at his back. He turns the both of them and then lifts his boot, kicking him in the backside and sending him tumbling out of the alley and towards the rest of the market. Damien twirls the knife and then slips it into his own belt with a disdainful look. "Well," he says stiffly. "I suppose in all technicality, you did just give me your knife. I suppose I shouldn't have to arrest you, so long as you are no longer within my sight in ten seconds. Ten. Nine. Eigh-"

"Fucking traitor," the pale-eyed man spits as he scrambles back to his feet, and then, "No good knights left. No honorable knights, only heretics and weak-minded fools."

"Seven," Damien hisses, hand tightening on the grip of his bow, and the man-

The alley is completely empty before he makes it to six. He sighs, and glances over his shoulder to meet Lord Arum's eye.

"Perhaps it was unwise to leave you unaccompanied, even for so short a time," he says in a murmur.

Arum blinks, inhales, and then bares his teeth.

"I do not require your help, honeysuckle. I can defend myself perfectly well. It is insulting to presume-"

"If you defended yourself, as you say, you might very well have caused a diplomatic incident, Lord Arum," Damien says, wincing as he puts his bow away again.

"So you come barreling in like a fool, putting yourself in harm's way with a crowd of idiots that you refuse to fight properly in return, that you won't even arrest, simply so I do not-" he pauses. "I smell- honeysuckle. Your arm is bleeding."

"I know," Damien says stiffly, angling his body to put his injured limb further away from Arum. "That fool with the knife may have only meant to threaten, but- well. They say one should not threaten if one does not intend to carry through." He shakes his head, frowns. "And I did not do this for your sake, Lord Arum. If the war is revived for so foolish a reason- surely you know as well as I, the sheer number of lives that could be lost."

"Your arm is bleeding," the monster repeats, his teeth bared, "quite profusely. We must return to the palace and find you a doctor immediately."

"It is hardly the worst of-"

The monster crowds closer, narrowing his eyes at the reddened sleeve as Damien attempts to conceal it behind his back, and then he lifts his vivid eyes to pin Damien in place. "Who, precisely, do you assume would be blamed if you collapse from loss of blood in the presence of the clawed and fanged beast you have been complaining of and vocally suspecting of malice? In what way would that not end precisely the same as if you had not interceded in the first place?"

"I," Damien says breathlessly, "am a Knight of the Crown, Lord Arum, not some wilting flower, and I will not collapse from something as inconsequential as a little light-"

"Stabbing?"

"It is barely a scratch!"

Arum scowls viciously, and the expression is so serious and so ridiculous that Damien cannot help a small shock of laughter, which seems to startle both the monster and himself. They both freeze for a moment in the aftermath, and then Arum steps closer, reaching and startling Damien again as Arum takes his wrist.

He goes down on a knee as Damien blinks confusion. Two of his hands pull his cape taut as a third rends the cloth with claws, his fourth hand still clutching stubbornly at Damien's wrist before he draws the limb carefully closer, and then he-

He lifts the cloth, and with more delicacy than Damien knew any monster could possess, he wraps the purple tight around the wound on his forearm, staunching the blood.

Arum watches the binding for a long moment, Damien's arm carefully balanced between two of his hands, and when it does not bleed through immediately he nods and straightens, still with a hand resting at Damien's elbow.

He stills, when he catches Damien's eye. Damien does not know what he sees, then, but- he swallows, dropping his own gaze.

"A doctor, honeysuckle," he says in a low, serious voice. "That is a temporary measure. Inadequate. Tell me where to bring you to find a physician or I will simply pick you up and carry to back to the Citadel Tower, and I do not think that either of us will enjoy that."

Damien-

Flushes, so quickly and completely that it stuns him, the idea of those strong hands lifting him into the air, the muted firmness in Arum's tone-

He wouldn't- he wouldn't enjoy- he certainly wouldn't-

"D-doctor," he manages, and then he clears his throat. "Back to the Citadel- with Rilla gone, the best physicians would be there, yes. If you- if you insist." He pauses. "But- but we haven't found anything for-"

"We may very well come back another day, honeysuckle," the monster growls, rolling his eyes, and then he shifts the hand at Damien's elbow to press at Damien's lower back, encouraging him forward. Damien jolts, the contact like a rippling flame that runs up the entirety of his back, and the monster startles in turn, eyes widening.

"I'm perfectly able to move on my own," Damien snaps, his words running on a sort of terrified automatic, entirely without his conscious intent, and Arum stares at him for half a beat before his expression flattens. "I- no. I'm perfectly fine, Lord Arum. I appreciate-"

"Fine. Lead. You know this city," he mutters, looking entirely away from Damien. "I would only get us lost, and I would hardly like for us to be caught by another mob. Go on."

Damien tries- half tries- opens his mouth and closes it at least thrice, and then gives up. He turns and pretends not to wince as he starts to walk towards the center of the city again, Lord Arum following close and silent in his wake.

#elle's fanfic #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #sir damien #tomorrow's some kind of strangerland #strangerland #aaaaAAAA

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