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the-ninja-legacy-whip · 9 months

Note

How will turning into a ghost affect Cole and his powers? Will it mess with his attunement? Also, if you're okay with answering it, how will that affect Jesse?

Well I was gonna answer this like a normal person but then ya went and mentioned Jesse—

. . .

"Careful there, Jess." Though he speaks with a tilted smile, no amount of pleasantry can mask the misery that bleeds from Cole's tone. "Or I'll start to think you're more upset about this than I am."

Jesse swallows a hiccup as he shoots Cole a look from across the room, not appreciating the stab at levity when prickling glitter trails down his cheeks the same way his tears do. He's been sobbing uncontrollably ever since the news was less-than-delicately dropped on him. Only now, being alone with Cole in the aftershock of the chaos, forced to face this new reality, does Jesse finally start to come to grips with it all.

But, a surprise of the cruelest flavor makes it all the harder to swallow.

And it's not that Cole hasn't had his own share of wallowing over the situation either—but his crying was just louder, hollow, hauntingly tormented, and dry. Only a mere echo of what he was once capable of.

Now, any tears he could've shed—were it still possible—would have killed him in more ways than one.

Cole stares at his boyfriend and yearns, wanting nothing more than to thread his fingers through Jesse's stupidly soft hair and soothe him until the pain of the situation becomes numb enough to bear. He wants to hold other boy tight and let their arms mingle with one another. Wants to hold his gentle face, wants to press kisses to his cheeks, wants to lean against him as they share headphones over a handpicked playlist, wants just to touch him one more time; to keep with him the memory of something he hadn't realized was so fragile.

And he knows from the look at the edge of Jesse's gaze that he longs for the same thing too.

Cole swallows around the lump in his throat. Of course, that would be a sensation he'd get to keep—not anything he'd actually want.

"It...it might not be forever. I'm not dead, just...cursed. We could find a way to break it somehow," Cole tries again, attempting to be positive for the both of them. Although 'cursed' and 'dead' are pretty much synonyms to him at this point. Jesse doesn't need to know that though. "And Master Wu said there's...ways I can make this work for me, y'know? And even if I am cursed like this forever...we know it's possible to at least become corporeal enough to be somewhat normal, thanks to Harleigh. Maybe one day, we won't even notice the difference!"

Jesse swipes a sleeve across his eyes, gazing at Cole but also through him at the same time. His stomach churns at how Cole seems to disappear even in his vision—and keeps slipping through his fingers—but he stamps his roiling feelings down. He's...just going to have to get used to this. Baby steps.

"...on that note, I've been wondering...What...um, what does it...feel like? To...be a ghost?" Jesse asks in a desperate bid to understand, and in lieu of anything else to say, though his voice is raw from screaming in horror for days on end. Cole wilts with every forced out word. "Is that...okay to ask?"

Cole curls his fists against the blanket of the bed he sits upon; the fabric remains undisturbed beneath him. The overwhelming sensation of nothing when there should be something wracks through him and steals away a breath he doesn't have.

He doesn't think there's anything that could describe the sheer ache that notion leaves him with.

"...not everything feels like something else." Cole withers when glitter trickles from the corners of Jesse's eyes again. But Jesse remains patiently listening. "...but, if I had to say...it's...mostly like...being in a fog."

Jesse's head tilts curiously. "A...fog...?"

"...Yeah." Cole gnaws his lip as he strings his thoughts together. "Like I'm mostly here, but not really. Like I can see something in the distance thought a mist, but not a clear picture. Like sometimes, people speak at me, and their voices are garbled like I'm underwater. And every motion I make is like trying to push through a cloud...and the feel of the cloud is featherlight, barely there, brushing against my hands, just a...wisp. But then I know in my heart—or what remains of it—that there should be...something more."

Cole lifts a translucent hand that yields neither the warmth nor strength he's become accustomed to. There's some sensation; something akin to a dulled static. But it's a far cry to the subtle earth-made vibrations he could once pick up on instinct.

The Element of Earth still thrums just beneath his "skin"—no curse could ever take that away from him. The earth is always shifting, even in the subtlest of ways, and he's still in sync with that much. In the slow erosion of a cliff at the seaside, in the tumbling of the sands of a beach, in the crumbling of a foundation when it finally gives way, in the spinning of the world as time marches on, in the throes of an aftershock of a earthquake...all of that he can still sense with his soul.

And yet, when it comes to his powers, the disconnect is immense—he'd describe it like a chasm suddenly cleaving his elemental connection, but even that would still yield contact with the Earth. No, this is more like the ground is slipping away from him—he's falling in reverse, going upwards, drifting farther and farther away, with nothing to tether him down—nothing to keep him grounded—

His body is no longer solid. There is no longer a foundation for Earth to be supported by.

He's never felt less attuned.

"And, overall..." Cole wraps up his thoughts, pulling his knees up to his chest. He shakes, longing for something he can anchor onto other than himself. "Everything feels...lacking. And I feel...very empty."

Pulling out of his puddle of self-pity, Cole chances a glance at Jesse. Everything in him seizes up upon witnessing Jesse openly crying again. It's not as broken and utterly devastated as before. Now, though...he cries not for what's been lost, but what he can no longer have.

"I just wanna hold your hand and comfort you so bad," Jesse confesses in a weep. "And I can't."

"...heh, yeah. Master knows I could use it right about now," Cole agrees. Even his voice is inconsolably trembling now. His heart clenches. "And I'm also dying to kiss you senseless, but ha, that's even less of a no-go. Cuz, y'know—"

It's an attempt at a joke—albeit a very true joke—that only sends Jesse deeper into a sobbing fit. And Cole can do nothing but watch it happen—watch as he's the cause for Jesse's continued turmoil. He can't even lend a shoulder for him to cry on, for there technically is no shoulder to offer, and Jesse's tears would prove to be lethal anyway.

He may not be able to feel much, but he certainly can feel how much pain he's causing for Jesse. He...can't do this to Jesse. He can't keep doing this to Jesse. He can't burden him like this, as much as he craves Jesse's comfort otherwise.

"Why do these things keep happening to you?! Why can't you—we—be blissfully happy for two seconds?!" Jesse trades his tears for a fit of protesting frustration. Cole lets out a weary, humorless chuckle in response.

"Hey, I told you I was hard to love. Just...maybe not this hard." Cole fights for it, but he can't keep the plastered smile on his face. Horror flashes across Jesse's; Cole's voice starts to crack. "But maybe...I mean–you deserve...better than a ghost, y'know. Better than a wisp of a person, in any case...not that I was all that great even before 'dying', ahahaaa...still can't believe you would've wanted me, heh..."

Jesse's blood runs cold. "Cole. Cole. C-Cole, no don't do that—"

Cole presses on. "But if this, y'know...changes anything between us—changes how you feel about me, then I...I-I would understand if you...it would be okay if...if y-you wanted to lea—"

Jesse jumps to his feet and claps, punctuated by a sound that fills the room and drives away the rest of Cole's tirade. Jesse's expression is pinched as he draws a ruby red rose from his sleeve, tilting it gingerly in Cole's direction.

"And I told you, I'll love you regardless." It's the most resolute Jesse's sounded in days. Cole can feel the imitation of his heart skipping a beat. "So, come what may...I'm going to be here for you. I'm going to be at your side, if you'll have me. Unfortunately, you can't get rid of me so easily, darling. Not even death itself could drive me away from you!"

"...jeeeeeez, so dramatic." A lightness flows through Cole and he eagerly chases the high of it. Jesse smirks in spite of himself. "But, it is one of your many adoring qualities."

Scoffing, Jesse presses a kiss to one of the petals of the rose. He spins it twice between his fingers, the blessed petal now facing towards Cole.

"It's going to...take some time to adjust to this. But we'll work together on it, just like with everything else. You're right, and we will figure something out. This...doesn't have to be the end of the world."

Cole leans forward now, matching his lips to the petal presented to him. He may not be able to feel the delicacy of the flower, but the Jesse's sentiment he receives in full force.

"I couldn't agree more, sweetheart."

And, just maybe, Cole doesn't feel quite as empty as he thought.

#in short he loses a lot of his powers (including Earth Punch/Lava Arms)#his attunement hits rock bottom #and jesse takes it as well as you'd expect (Not Well At All)#ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #tlnm #legacyverse #the ninja legacy whip #cole brookstone #oc: jesse marvell #aftershockshipping #oc x canon #cole x oc #fic tag #works of mine #fics of mine #book 7 #making fanfiction of my fanfiction

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marivenah · 11 months

Text

Of The Abyss

Pairing: Maul x Shireen Oqir (f!OC)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Depictions Of Violence

Summary: Something unknown has been calling Maul through the Force. The young apprentice is eager to find the source and put an end to the distraction of the voice.

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Chapter 1 - The Veil

The Outer Rim has always been a vast place of uncertainty. A region the galaxy’s biggest scum call home. Countless criminals — smugglers, slavers and pirates. The latter of which Maul spotted in the system when he arrived. Thanks to the cloaking device of the Scimitar, they hadn’t noticed him. The presence of pirates came as a surprise as there is nothing of interest in this system. Not for them, at least.

At first, the voice had only ever appeared within his dreams. Calling? It is always inaudible, undiscernible. Dreams of the forgotten voices of the Sith? It didn’t matter then, dreams can be deceiving. Until he heard it again one night, in a fully awake state.

The Sith apprentice had just paid his master a visit on Coruscant, growing more impatient for revenge with every new meeting. We shall not reveal ourselves to the Jedi yet. To gain power, one must garner strength first. So, his master tasked Maul to find that strength by indulging in his bloodlust. However, he was not satiated, the hunger still lingering deep within.

It was then on Coruscant when he heard it. Still unable to make out what it was saying, yet, in a way, the young assassin felt drawn to it. As if it was calling for him. Pleading him to find it.

And it led him all the way to this planet.

With heavy footsteps, Maul wades through the soft, deep snow on a deserted planet somewhere in the Outer Rim. Snow was falling when he entered the atmosphere. Once he landed, it had already turned into a storm. The raging snowstorm has gotten even worse after he stepped outside of his ship. It might have been able to protect him from the snow, but it appears the voice itself is weakened by the heavy weather, as he couldn’t hear it in the Scimitar.

For that brief moment his mind was filled with silence, and, for the first time, he contemplated the decisions that led him to this point. Was the Force playing tricks on him? Fooling his mind for undefined reasons? Perhaps it was his master’s doing, testing his apprentice for his determination.

As soon as Maul set foot outside the Scimitar, the voice was back, all but a whisper. It had never been very prominent before — faint yet powerful enough to reach him all the way up on Coruscant.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been searching for the source. What feels like hours must’ve been only a few minutes in the cold. He considered sending out his Sith probe droids but what would they be looking for? Maul himself doesn’t even know what is waiting for him to be found.

He comes to a halt as soon as the call is getting louder, minimal but it seems to notice that he’s getting closer. One turn to the right and after a few more steps Maul finds himself standing in front of a subsidence.

From his position he spots something halfway buried in the snow, awfully close to a hole in the ground. It reveals the blue stone underneath the snow. By closer inspection of the object, it appears to be a ship. Out of the parts that are still visible, it seems to be a Kom’rk-class fighter with a certain symbol drawn onto it. Unusually far from the Mandalore sector.

From what he can tell, the planet has no noteworthy qualities — the living conditions are non-existent, and the climate makes it useless for mining. It’s highly unlikely the Mandalorians came to this place on purpose. Their ship must’ve crashed. And yet it wasn’t a distress signal that called him here — it was the Force. Maybe the ship had been stolen. A Jedi who fought the gun-slinging warriors and took their ship?

At the mere thought of the Jedi, his muscles tense up. His body temperature rising so high it could have melted the snow under his boots. The pure hatred the Sith apprentice feels for them only fuels him to continue his way to the ship. If it actually is a Jedi, they would be a fool to call a Sith for help, even if unintentional. It will be their last mistake.

Before reaching the Starfighter, Maul steps on something solid, making it crack on impact. He stops in his tracks and lifts his foot slightly, taking a step back. He uses the same foot to brush the snow aside. Buried underneath is a pile of bones. At the end of it — the skull of a Nikto.

Was this the pilot of the ship? It is highly unlikely that the planet inhabits any lifeforms, especially the Kajain’sa’Nikto, who are native to desert climates. So, the cold must’ve been the death of this one. But why leave the ship in the first place? Granted, it seems to be non-functional, but what were they hoping to find out here? Additionally, a single one of them would never be able to take a Gauntlet Starfighter from a Mandalorian.

Perhaps the pirates in this system are looking for missing members.

The whistling of the snowstorm isn’t as loud as it was before, as this location is shielded by the surrounding stone, but still howling through the silence of this planet.

Something stirs within Maul when he notices that it’s not as silent as it should be. He senses a presence, though not from inside the ship.

He slowly turns around, scanning the area for any sign of life. Due to the snowfall, it’s hard to make out anything other than the contrasting blue walls of stone, forcing him to squint his eyes. What he spots are several other piles scattered across the ground. Without doubt more bones — the rest of the crew, but the opposite of what he’s looking for.

The feeling of the presence is getting clearer. It’s closing in on him. As Maul turns to look at what’s approaching him, he swiftly moves out of the way. His opponent misses the attack and lands several meters away from him. Its feet slide over the ground, pushing it even farther. After it regains its footing, it roars at him — hoarse and strained, baring its sharp teeth. Then it leaps into movement, sprinting at him in a zigzag pattern.

Maul gets a hold of his spear. He swings it at the incoming creature, which brakes sharply and avoids the attack by taking a step back. He swings again, from right to left and it dodges by quickly ducking its head. It then aims to bite at his legs. He jumps out of the way, making the animal close its mouth around air. It hisses at him.

The creature continues to rapidly bite at him, alternately targeting his legs, arms and head. Maul jumps, crouches and swerves to avoid the attacks. Every step that gets him closer to the ship, his opponent moves between him and said object, pushing him back again. The creature has the agility to do more damage but refuses to leave its general position.

When Maul finds the chance to strike the animal, it does nothing. His spear scratches at the scales but no cut appears. Then his opponent hastily spins around. He evades the attack of the spiked tail by doing a backward somersault. He lands a few meters away from his attacker.

Instead of lunging at him again, the creature stays at a distance but remains cautious, nonetheless. It starts circling Maul, slowing down once it’s in front of the ship.

In this position, he gets a better look at the creature. It seems to be a kind of quadrupedal reptilian he cannot name. The scales are a mix of warm shades of yellow and orange. There is something resting around its neck, most likely frills that it hasn’t presented yet. Due to — at least from what he can examine — them protecting the softer and vulnerable belly. Another desert inhabitant stranded on this ice planet. And perhaps a more plausible explanation for the demise of the Nikto and their fellow crew members.

Despite its size advantage, it fully relies on agility instead of brute force, opting only for quick attacks so far. Though, this one doesn’t even reach half the size of a Rathtar and Maul has slain several of those before. If he can injure the legs, he should be able to slow it down, giving him the opportunity to reach the more vulnerable parts of its body.

As soon as it stops prowling, the animal straightens its posture, trying to seem even bigger than it already is. In this short-lived moment of abeyance, Maul is able to sense something within his opponent — despite never forming a connection with animals before — though it isn’t furious anger as one would expect from a feral creature, but instead uneasiness.

Maul keeps his feet steady on the cold ground. His gloves creak from the tight grip around the spear. He then takes the opportunity to strike first. As expected, it tries to dodge the attack, so he spins the spear around and whacks it into the creature’s head, making it stumble back a few steps, slowly moving away from the ship.

Now its belly and legs are exposed, so the Sith apprentice stabs his spear into the chest plates of the animal. They are unexpectantly resistant, the wound doesn’t go very deep. In fact, it seems like it barely made an impact. One small screech and it whips its tail at his legs. He easily jumps over it. While still partly in the air, the creature pushes its whole weight against Maul. He stumbles slightly but regains his footing fairly quickly. It results in the spear getting shoved in a little deeper.

To help it get further, he places his hand right before the blade starts and puts pressure on it. The reptile bites into the handle of the weapon and frantically pushes and pulls until it escapes the wound.

Neither of them lets go of the weapon, so it turns into a constant back and forth between them. Maul uses enough strength to fully pull the creature away from the ship.

Visibly angered by his resistance, it quickly rises to stand on its hind legs and uses all its brute force to push the Zabrak to the ground.

It leans its whole weight on both his arms, pressing Maul deep into the snow. Then, it gets full hold of the spear and throws it into the direction of the hole. The weapon is gone.

While Maul can’t move his arms to reach for his lightsaber, his legs are free to move. Before the creature turns its full attention back to him, he kicks up into the wound. It winces at the impact, removing some of the weight. He kicks it again, this time into its lower jaw.

Eventually, it releases him fully, stumbling away as the hits to its head seem to have disoriented it.

Maul jumps back onto his feet in one swift movement. Before the reptile can fully recover, he whips out his hand and sends it flying into the rocky wall behind it. Snow falls from the top of the cliff and buries the creature underneath.

Whether it actually had an effect, the creature doesn’t let it show — shaking the snow off as it re-emerges from it.

Maul awaits the next move, his hand moving to his lightsaber. But it doesn’t come. The animal still in its place, as if frozen by the snowstorm. It snarls at him, and then, for the first time, spreads its neck frills — most likely a threat — and screeches, the sound shrill and vibrating. Then it vanishes. Washing away like a holo that was turned off.

It’s not actually gone, he can still feel its presence. The intensity of its rage and determination to win the fight. And it’s drawing closer.

Seeing as there are no other lifeforms present to witness Maul’s next move, he pulls out his lightsaber, ignites one side, and strikes upwards.

The creature cries out in pain, taking a step back as it reappears right in front of its opponent. Its right front leg now graced with a cauterized cut. It tries to stand on it, but the wound doesn’t allow for any pressure. So, it limps away from him, taking small steps on only three legs. Though, even now that it’s injured, it doesn’t leave the area.

This gives Maul the perfect opportunity to strike the creature down. It keeps its distance but stays close enough for him to look into its yellow eyes. He notices its view is resting on the red light of his saber. Then they move upwards, creating direct eye contact for the first time. Sharp breaths shoot out of its nostrils, visible in the cold.

The ignited blade still burns in front of the Sith assassin’s body, just like his desire to put an end to this conflict. But now that they’re standing here, the only noise being the wind howling through the air, he can’t push himself to do it. And it confuses him. One look into the reptile’s eyes and it feels like he’s greeting an old friend. Out of everyone he met, Maul feels this way about an animal that had just tried to kill him. Or maybe, he doesn’t exactly understand the concept of a friend. Regardless, it looks as if it feels the same. There’s no more anger, no more rage.

Its eyes move to look at the ship, then back at him. It growls lowly before leaving the area completely.

The noises whistle through his mind again — or perhaps it is the wind carrying the snow around? The voice has been quiet during the previous encounter. He turns off his lightsaber and puts it away before stepping closer to the ship. Even now, while being this close to the source, it only gets gradually less audible as the storm is getting worse. As if the cold is trying to drown it out, choke it until it fades.

The Gauntlet lays slightly askew next to the rocky wall. The majority of the right wing is buried in the snow, while the rest of the ship is covered in a thin layer of fresh-fallen snow. He walks around it, to the ship’s bow and finds a way underneath it, to the airlock door. He spots it, partly open. Most likely opened by force. Now he wonders whether it was to get outside or inside.

The opening is big enough for Maul to slip through.

Once inside, it feels as though he just entered a whole different world. Shielded from the reigning storm, the durasteel drowns out any noise from outside. Though it’s not very successful at keeping the cold out. His breath being just as visible as it was in the cool air.

The interior of the Gauntlet is covered in ice. The cockpit is completely shut off, sealed behind a thick layer of frozen water. Every footstep echoes within the crystallized walls. It’s so quiet he can hear water droplets land on the durasteel. There are a few puddles scattered across the floor, alongside small pieces of ice.

This strange feeling that flows through his whole body returns. He doesn’t quite know what to make of it, nor does he fully understand it. It’s very weak but still present, although it seems like it’s being held back. Imprisoned. Shrouded by the Force. And desperately trying to breach through. The silent atmosphere in the ship makes it feel stronger than it is. And still, it leads him to go further.

As Maul passes even more ice, he stops. His eyes scan the wall, and he notices a shadow. Something is inside.

In his periphery, he spots several lines scraped into it. Always grouped in a number of four within close proximity. And there are a lot of them scattered across the block of ice. It must have been desperate to reach what is frozen.

He places his gloved hand on the ice, the coldness immediately piercing through the leather. The ice wall consists of several different layers. The ship is in a continuous loop of melting and freezing again due to the extreme climate of the planet. Though it was never enough to free what is trapped. Maul wipes over the half-melted and fogged-up ice to reveal what it conceals.

The silhouette is a lot sharper. Its contour delicately shaping it. A shape that’s familiar to him.

Someone is inside.

Most obviously the source of what called him here. It’s not louder, but clearer. It isn’t saying his name, it might not even be speaking. It is more of a humming. A sound he would describe as melodic, yet strange. His muscles go slack as his whole body goes into a state of serenity. As if whoever is in there wanted him to be here and that’s why they called for him.

This unusual feeling entices him to place his hand back on the ice — fingers spread while only their tips touch the frozen wall. Through the Force Maul senses the person’s exact position and then makes the ice break around them.

A crack — and it splits in various directions. He removes his hand and takes a step back. He silently watches it break apart until the person inside is unveiled — a young woman.

Asleep. Or unconscious. As soon as she’s fully freed, she drops to the floor with a loud thud.

TAGLIST: @socially-awkward-skeleton @risingsh0t @roofgeese @strangefable @voidika @josephslittledeputy @madparadoxum @aceghosts @poetikat @fourlittleseedlings @nightbloodbix @sstewyhosseini

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#mywriting*#oc: shireen oqir #shireen x maul #fic: of the abyss #big thank you to mika for proofreading this 🥺💜#I'm not that happy with it but hey it was good practice for fight scenes!#i really tried my best to write him as canonically accurate as possible 😭#i'm not good at writing from a male pov lmao #should've written it from his opponent's pov instead it would've been easier😔#there are two small details in this chapter that will be very important later on #which were the only reasons to include this whole chapter..

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