#gonna go scream more about steven stone. signing off

[immamapletreekid]

omg todays ep ;o;

[i-watch-too-many-movies]

5 Favorite First Viewings of July 2021

Quick note: Hi everyone, I'm back, things have honestly been getting better for me, and I'm glad to be on this site full of cinephiles, people that are too horny, and cinephiles that are too horny. I'll be more active on here. But anyway, let's talk about some movies.

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) (dir. Russ Meyer)

CW: Abortion mention

What a picture. What a gorgeous, sexy, horrifying slice of what Hollywood and star life can do to a bunch of bright-eyed young people looking for success. Also is a critique of how macho nature can ruin friendships and romantic relationships with total ease. I was obsessed with the scene transitions, like Pet pouring pancake mix onto a plate after the abortion scene, or Kelly singing after someone screams before their murder in the opening scene.

Great, campy flick with exceptional music too.

Deep Cover (1992) (dir. Bill Duke)

Laurence Fishburne plays Russell Stevens, a Cincinnati police officer who hopes to do well by the community, to make a difference. He’s traumatized by the death of his substance-abusing father, and wants to make sure that he can help the people of his own town. He goes undercover on assignment as a drug dealer, where his boss orders him to take down the kingpin. Stevens realizes the police’s own failings while on assignment. The racist abuse he takes from Agent Carver, and the realization that the police department is protecting drug kingpins like Gallegos and Barbossa. Giving drugs to Black kids and Latinx kids so there will be less of them. The cops are no different than the drug kingpins looking to make filthy amounts of money.

Fishburne’s performance is excellent, as Stevens feels he has to maintain a stone face so he doesn’t get caught by Jason or Barbossa or any of his cronies, but also he maintains a stone face to try and hide his emotion, his trauma. But when he gets pissed, Fishburne acts it beautifully, as is when he has to deliver a funny quip to counter Jason’s douchebaggery. And the production design, holy fuck, the sets and the lighting.

A perfect neo-noir for the HW Bush years, arguably one of the most timeless commentaries on the era, as well as the police as a whole.

Fast Five (2011) (dir. Justin Lin)

I was torn between including this or Furious 7, but I ultimately went with Fast Five because it felt like an important turning point in the series, it's a great heist film, and it reached the same chaotic highs and genuinely excellent filmmaking that I had been waiting for since 2 Fast and Tokyo Drift.

Fast Five opens where Fast & 4ious left off. Dom is hauled away to prison on a bus. Mia and Brian drive in their high-tech cars and knock the bus over, helping Dom escape. The title drops. Fast Five. It’s such an intense yet short action scene, and dropping the title immediately after it lets the viewer know that this movie is not fucking around. It’s arguably gonna be more intense and insane than the previous one.

And it is. The filmmakers made the decision to use a lot more practical stunt work for the film, and as a result, it leads to, so far, the best action in the entire series, since 2 Fast and Tokyo Drift. It’s not just how it’s shot or edited, it’s the geography of the locations, the rooftop chase echoes the rooftop chase of Jackie Chan’s masterwork Police Story, particularly the way each character bounces from top to top.

And of course, there’s the silliest moment in the movie, the one that matches the intensity and kineticism of a film like 2 Fast, which is driving the Reyes’ bank vault throughout the street, getting chased by corrupt cops.

I know we make fun of Vin Diesel for saying “family” all the time in these films, but there’s a reason we remember him saying all of these impassioned monologues. Because he’s unbelievably sincere, and has so much love in his heart for every single person in the room. Anytime he delivers a speech to any of them, it’s genuinely heartwarming.

This is the film that finally shows La Familia in their best environment, which is working together, in a movie genre that allows them to work together, which is a heist film. And a great one at that.

Last Days (2005) (dir. Gus Van Sant)

CW: Mention of suicide

Several films have been made about legendary rock artist Kurt Cobain, and for good reason. He is one of the most tragic figures in rock and roll. A tortured genius who has written and performed classic song after classic song with his band Nirvana. He was called the voice of a generation, and helped change the face of mainstream alternative rock music as we know it. But with that fame, and all of those expectations came a worsening depression and further drug abuse, and his eventual death. But most of the films about Kurt Cobain ask one question which gets under my skin way too much:

“Who REEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLY killed Kurt Cobain?”

It was him. He did. And it’s okay, I’m sad too. Thinking that Kurt Cobain was murdered is completely ignoring the depression that he faced. And despite Last Days being more inspired by the death of Cobain rather than actually about it, it feels much more honest than the conspiracy documentaries on his death, wanting to leech off of his dead body.

This is the last installment of Gus Van Sant’s “Death Trilogy”, the previous two installments being Gerry (2001), and Elephant (2003). While I have not seen Gerry, I have seen Elephant though, and love that film for its minimalist, raw nature, and its boldness for not romanticizing the school shooter or the lives they had taken. Last Days falls into that trap once, as I don’t agree with the shot of Blake’s soul climbing up a ladder, that always struck me as cheesy in a film that is anything but.

Last Days is similar to Elephant in terms of the way it is filmed. Its usage of long takes, and still shots of characters doing various things, such as Blake playing his guitar behind a drum set. The way these moments are shot is similar to a Chantal Akerman film, particularly Jeanne Dielman. Where the acts of the mundane are the stars of the film. Blake wanders around an empty house, and the viewer can feel the pain, not just through Michael Pitt’s acting, but from the house itself. Its decay, its paint peeling from the walls, from the soft glow of the lamp that lights his face.

I say this is the most honest film about Kurt Cobain, because, despite the characters technically being fictional (the main character who looks, walks, and acts like Cobain is named Blake), this film focuses on the mental state of a person before they eventually take their own life. They’re still working, still making music, still trying to talk to friends and bandmates, but the depression lingers on. Not once does this film try to make you believe that someone else killed him, because you can see the signs of his own suicide taking place just through the film’s excellent cinematography by Harris Savides, showing his mental state only growing worse through the production design.

And it’s empathetic with him. There’s no judgement for leaving rehab, there’s no finger-wagging at him or the people he was with, there’s just a silent prayer at the end of the film, hoping that he is in a better place than he was.

Sometimes you don’t need to show every event that led you to where you are, all you can show is the moment, which also makes this better than most biopics as well, as it never feels messy or muddled, just showing one moment of Blake/Kurt’s life.

I really loved this film, and I’ll be writing about it in full soon.

The Village (2004) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

The Cracked.com/Channel Awesome audience stuck in 2012 will tell you that this was the beginning of the end for Shyamalan. That this was when people stopped taking him seriously, that this was when he became more of a punchline because of his twist endings.

But why?

The Village was released in 2004, deep in the Bush administration, during the early stages of the Iraq War. The leaders of the time were talking about imaginary boogeymen, terrorists that would attack the civilians if they could. Because of 9/11, politicians could get away with these false ideas with the majority of Americans fully believing them. The boogeymen in The Village are “The People We Don’t Speak Of”, monsters attracted by the color red. Yet we find out that they are all costumes made by the Elders of the land, designed to prevent people from going outside the land. They rule by fear disguised as love. They’ve gone through their own traumas through the deaths of their family members, but they’ve decided to completely abandon the lives that they’ve had and have their children living lies.

9/11 impacted American life by teaching citizens to live primarily by fear, to not trust anyone but their own people. And yet, post-9/11, all that increased was not “coming together”, but hate crimes against South Asian people. The rage white Americans had felt led to conservative politicians pushing fear-mongering agendas, and said white Americans blindly accepted. The outside world was progressing, but too many people were fine with living with further conservative politics only regressing American life further and further back, all for the illusion of safety. Meanwhile, the only threats to them were not the brown citizens outside of America they were so afraid of, but the white elders, the white politicians.

The Village explores these fears so eloquently, all while having a terrifying atmosphere, an enchanting score, and brilliant sound design. I enjoyed this movie very much.

Other viewings I enjoyed:

Beavis and Butt-Head Do America (1996) (dir. Mike Judge) (re-watch)

Blow Out (1981) (dir. Brian de Palma) (re-watch)

Clueless (1995) (dir. Amy Heckerling) (re-watch)

Furious 7 (2015) (dir. James Wan)

The Long Goodbye (1973) (dir. Robert Altman)

Lupin III: The First (2019) (dir. Takashi Yamazaki)

Unbreakable (2000) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan) (re-watch)

Velvet Goldmine (1998) (dir. Todd Haynes)

The Visit (2015) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1.2K

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter 1: Pink

“So what are you gonna do, shatter me?!”

Bismuth’s tone is corrosive, boiling with hurt, as sharp as the fine point that she’s forcibly pressed against the gem inlaid in her chest. Steven’s hands quiver against the cool metal casing of the breaking point. Once assured words derail and fragment in the presence of terrifying uncertainty, his mind grasping at straws for the barest glimmer of optimism. (Optimistic thought number one: While it’s absolutely the most horrifying tool of war he’s ever had the misfortune of holding, he’s at least glad this thing isn’t a thousand billion degrees like everything else in this crazy lava powered furnace.)

“Go ahead!” she continues, tears budding in her eyes, and jerks the weapon against her gem so roughly that it clinks against the hard crystal’s surface. His shoulders seize at the sound. “Just do it!”

Whatever force of fear that once tied his tongue dissipates at the first sight of her distress.

“No!” he says, surmounting the strength to rebel against her hold, to pull the razor sharp point away from her. “Even if we don’t agree, nobody deserves this...”

In an instant, a complex series of emotions flicker across her stony features in consuming waves too rapid to identify. Confusion, maybe? A hint of relief? He dares to dream she’ll reconsider, earnestly apologize, back down and store the weapon away. Destroy it, even. They can warp to the temple together, and then everything will finally return to normal. A new normal, with her a part of his Crystal Gem family! Amethyst will have a new wrestle buddy, and Pearl and Garnet will smile a little brighter alongside their old friend!

But any hope he dares cling to is quickly incinerated under the blistering anger radiating from deep within that Gem’s tear stained eyes. She yanks the breaking point from his grasp. Heart pounding in his ears, his glance desperately skates over his mom’s sword lying across the room. Too far away, too far away! Bismuth raises her weapon adorned arm above her head and swings.

It happens so fast there’s not even time to summon his shield. Instinctively the world around him turns to pink, but he knows his limits, knows the bubble’s protection won't be enough. Not against something like this, not at point blank. Steven grinds his molars together, slams his eyes shut. He suddenly wishes he hugged everyone goodnight before going to bed. He wishes he texted his dad.

The bubble pops.

In a heartbeat, agony tears through his nerves like nothing he’s ever experienced before, radiating from his gem all the way to the tips of his fingers and toes and drawing a hoarse scream from his lips. Something within him shatters into fragments, rips away with a force unimaginable and shoves him forcibly to the warm stone. He desperately tries to raise another bubble shield but now his body is cold, cold, cold and his head feels woozy, stuffed to the brim with cotton. He catches a faint flicker of pink through the crack of his eyelids. But that solid clink against crystal, followed by that horrid, horrid sound— the unmistakable sign of a cracking gemstone— might as well have come from miles away.

When he finally opens his eyes again, he’s immediately aware of two things.

One: he’s shivering. Despite the overwhelming heat of the forge, heat he knows should be making him sweat rivers, his body convulses and his teeth chatter like he’s just come out of the snow.

Two: after her aggression he doesn’t understand why, but Bismuth is holding him. His breath hastens as he realizes this, but in his current state of disorientation he doesn’t fight it. She’s pressed him tight against her chest like he’s suddenly the most precious being in existence, her hard light form nearly burning to the touch even though Gem bodies don’t produce heat like organic life does. Paired alongside the uncontrollable shivering, he‘s pretty sure that’s reason for concern.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she cries, fat tears budding at the corners of her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. “Shards, I- I was so sure that you were somehow Rose that I almost-“ Her voice hitches, unable to complete that sentence.

A pang of... of indescribable emptiness assails him then, and a glimpse at the figure standing motionless where he once stood enlightens him on concerning reality number three.

“Steven. Steven, please tell me you can still hear me? Please tell me you’re not- I didn’t mean to- for any of this to happen, I swear!”

“W-what...” His throat constricts, horror gripping his limbs as he shakily pulls up the hem of his shirt and finds nothing but smooth, blemish-less skin. “Where’s my-?” His gemstone is nowhere to be seen. Gone. Except...

His gaze drops once more on the softly glowing, pink clone of himself that’s currently staring at him with hauntingly blank irises. He doesn’t speak a word, and his expression barely shifts at all, but Steven soon finds himself understanding his other self‘s existence regardless. He... he saved him. (Them?) Somehow, this hard light manifestation split himself apart to shove him away from Bismuth’s strike, sparing him from the brunt of the breaking point’s force. And yet...

Phantom pains from a gem he no longer possesses arc like lightning through his now completely human body. He gives a sharp whimper, his eyes growing wet. It’s almost immobilizing, reminiscent of the feeling one gets when they accidentally slam their funny bone against a counter or a door jam except it’s everywhere at once. Simultaneously, his pink double’s form glitches like a video game sprite.

Oh. Oh, no. Surely that’s not what—

Bismuth pulls his frail form tighter as he bursts into tears. Memories of a distant afternoon he’s tried so hard to forget slam to the forefront of his mind, leaving him helpless under their power. Amethyst, fracturing her gemstone when she fell on the hard edge of a boulder. Amethyst, her form glitching and morphing wildly, growing more and more unstable with every minute until she could barely speak or move. The bone chilling cracking noise that plays over and over in his deepest darkest nightmares, absolutely unmistakable in its horror, just like the sound of a car’s bumper crunching inwards. The same noise ringing through his ears not moments ago, the breaking point aimed straight at his gem.

“What do I do?” she asks fervently, her attention snapping back and forth between his two fractured selves, human and Gem. “How do we fix this??"

Steven can’t catch a breath through his sobs to even respond at first. He’s heaving so hard his chest aches. Tears streak lines through the dirt that’s caked on his face from their fight. As he desperately reaches out towards his double, a keening cry slips through his lips. The absence of his gemstone weighs on him as if something had reached its hand inside him and scooped it out like pumpkin guts. One moment he‘s whole, and the next... He doesn’t understand how any of this came to happen. All he knows— the unceasing mantra buzzing within his woozy cotton-filled mind— is that he needs him, has to reach him to become whole again—

Need— I need to...

"T-take me back," he croaks, quivering helplessly in her arms. "I- I need—"

Awareness surges into his double's otherwise blank features as he chimes in to order the other Gem. The emotionless monotone of that voice is enough to send a shudder through his bones.

"The temple. Now."

Notes:

I honestly don't know how long this will go on for, or in what direction. All I know is that I wanted to explore the idea that Gem/human Steven coming apart (as per Change Your Mind) is a sort of subconscious survival instinct, one which will only occur when Steven's about to suffer some pretty egregious injuries to his gemstone.

I figure Steven's subconscious attempts at protecting himself were able to:

A) Entirely spare his organic body from harm. (All pain human Steven feels here is flat out shock from suddenly being without his gemstone- and while they're separate he still is somewhat connected, thus can sense something's off when Gem Steven is glitching.)

B) Defend against the breaking point JUST enough that it only grazed/cracked his gemstone instead of full out shattering it.

As for Bismuth, we don't really get a chance to see her heel turn because Steven is blacked out for it. But the moment the split happened... and she saw human Steven spilled on the forge's floor, and Gem Steven cracked... it's alarming enough that it snaps her out of her rage and makes her realize that despite her confusions she genuinely could never shatter another Crystal Gem over this. The fact that she actually struck a blow this time is guilt inducing enough.

[mountain-of-divine-fire]

Crystal spirits, and how i work with them

Disclaimer. this is all my personal experience and beliefs. though this post is educational, take from it only what you believe. my word isnt the authority and neither is any other blog post. 

In my experience with crystals throughout the years, ive learned many things about them. i hope this post will help yall out there, who are maybe beginners, or just curious on how some things work, or how others like to do things. 

This post does not list crystal correspondences.

This will be a bit rambly, but i hope you get what i mean~

Obtaining your friends

Couple of options for this, i would suggest going rock hounding in a local area. Bring your companions, water, and your tools.

Maybe youre in a place with slim pickings,like me. you can just buy some online or in person

Crystal shopping online seems more convenient since you can look everywhere for whatever you want, and get to compare prices.But physical crystal shops are great because you can tell by feel who wants to come home with you. 

honestly, i believe nothing happens to a crystal that it doesnt want to happen. and if it does, it will end up fixing it itself. If you get a crystal that doesnt feel right, you will know who to give it to.

Im in the crystal shop. Now what? Well, just take a look around! see what catches your eye.I like to have a very loose suggestion of a shopping list, but it usually gets thrown out the window. If you feel like you need to touch something, do it. (unless the shop says no touchy ofc). Some things will practically jump out at you and scream “TAKE ME WITH YOU”. If you dont find something that really yells at you, and you still want to bring something home, just find something pretty. 

 How crystal spirits work

This is mostly based on what ive experienced. this doesnt come from any specific belief , but it does align with how some people practice animism. 

(much like in steven universe,if i had to give an example,) Crystals pop out of the ground, knowing who they are and what they do.They may grow and change with their experiences, but mostly, they know what theyre about. They are given energy and life by the earth, and they do their job. 

Each crystal group, species, and individual type seem to have overarching personality traits and a group spirit. i think some folk call these “crystal devas” but im not entirely sure where that comes from and what that entails. also each vein, and individual piece, has their own spirit and personality, say, beryl and quartz are completely different. An amethyst and a rose quartz are both quartz, and therefore have a similar type of personality, but are different. Each amethyst also has its specific differences. A chevron would be different from a grape jelly. Two individuals broken off from the same cluster would be different but similar, and so would each half of a broken slab.

sometimes individuals have names, and sometimes they can be named by you. some like to work with each other, and some prefer to work alone. 

Each crystal has correspondences , but sometimes those general guidelines can be deviated from, simple because the individual just doesnt do that kind of thing. 

My crystal broke! what happens then? Well, now you have two friends to work with. Some folk like to keep one half and give the other to a friend, some keep both halves and glue them back together with super glue (i do this with show pieces), and some folk like to bury them and return them back to the earth. You dont have to get rid of your broken pieces if you dont feel like its time. The crystal will let you know

How crystal spirits communicate

Most of the time, unless youre just really closed off, you will just feel it. They usually speak in feelings. if one wants to come with you for the day, you will know. If one wants anything , youre gonna know it. Dont second guess yourself, and just do it on impulse, pretty much.

These spirits are from nature, and are usually not relatable to humans (theres exceptions to this, like lab made crystals, and carved skulls, more on that later.).  they can and will communicate in ways youre not familiar to, if you dont do spirit work.If a crystal tells you its name, like its TRUE name, you might not even be able to comprehend the words its throwing at you. dont try to decipher it, just let it be. also , try to keep true names secret unless they tell you otherwise. 

If you cant really feel what they try to communicate, you could also meditate. If they want to say anything at least. just get cozy and meditate as you usually would, once you get good and calm just hold a rock and sit with it for a bit. Usually this type of communication is more in detail, maybe fully formed thoughts and sentences, maybe images. Once i even got one that liked to speak through song lyrics!

If you cant do these, use a pendulum! Ask the pendulum where its yes is, and where its no is. (for me usually, non human or complex spirits like to go left and right for yes, and forward and back for no. for animal spirits and servitors, ive found usually they nod yes and shake no. not sure how plants respond just yet.)

Ask it some troubleshooting questions first like “are you an amethyst, are my eyes blue, do i live at XYZ” ect... 

A problem with pendulums is, if you try and use a crystal pendulum when working with any other spirit, the crystal itself may respond. Always ask if youre talking to the right entity.

What might a crystal communicate to me? It could be something as simple as “my name is  ⌷ ⌷ ⌷ ⌷ ⌷ ⌷ “ or   “you like to smoke cleanse usually, but i would specifically like sunlight ”, or it could be advice about a situation that you need help with. 

Can these spirits be malevolent?  personally, no. i dont think so. though it can be a grey area. most nature spirits want nothing but the greater good for themselves, nature, and maybe even you, if youre a good person in its eyes. 

there are instances where a crystal could be “angry”, maybe because the way it was obtained, or that it holds some kind of curse/hex/negative energy (maybe just even being around something awful that happened). Usually cleansing a stone will help with this. And if it doesnt? Try and see if you can do anything for it. 

Be careful about crystal runes, as you can piss them off. ive made a few mistakes in my time working with them(and by a few i mean a LOT, its not fun), in general just dont be a dick, and dont ask for things youre not ready to know the answer to. always thank them for cooperating, and cleanse them after use. 

What are the effects of this? for me, it was like a terrible panic attack, i was suffocating, my heart was going nuts, it was so hot, and i was so dry mouthed. i have never had panic attacks that bad. Tried to use some quartz crystals to ground myself, since i knew it was an attack, and they broke in half in the middle. This is completely my fault. I got scared and locked my runes away because it told me something i wasnt ready for, the next time i busted them out (and i hadnt thanked or cleansed them since,) is when they decided to teach me that lesson.. i was new at magic and stupid. and im glad my first big mistake was with something this forgiving. You probably wont ever have to deal with something like this if youre generally respectful. please learn from my mistakes. 

As with any divination and spirit work, you need to take protective measures. when youre speaking to a crystal spirit, you may actually be talking with something else. and it could be negative. use your best judgement please. 

Whats up with cleansing/charging/ect..?

 a lot of folk like to fight over whether or not you need to charge, cleanse, and bless or whatever else you need to do to crystals. Personally,i do like to cleanse crystals after heavy use, spellwork, or when i first get them from a shop. just to get rid of residual negativity. 

Crystals can hold information, but as far as charging them, im not so convinced. crystals arent a sigil, or something you made yourself. it has its own energy from the earth and its spirit, and will work perfectly fine without any of that.  Only do what you feel is necessary 

If its fine without charging, then why cleanse?  other than getting rid of stored negative energy, its just a nice thing to do every once and a while. It sort of works like an offering. showing that you respect the entity and want to work together in a mutual relationship. if you keep up your end as a guardian, then it will help you. 

How do i use crystals in spellwork and every day life? 

well heres some ideas! 

carry some around in your pockets/bag/bra/whatever according to whoever wants to come with you , and crystal associations

Gridwork. make a crystal grid

In spell jars/bottles/satchets 

As a decoration in your house to give the space a certain mood, feeling, or help. 

In meditation, to give advice perhaps, but also to help you according to its correspondences 

In divination, as help. 

As vessels for spells, enchantments, servitors, and whatever else (always ask it first!!! im using a large quartz as an astral tether, and a smaller one to house a servitor) 

As a friend. ever heard of pet rocks? well this is just an aesthetic step up from that. 

in your plant pots, to help them grow and thrive (be careful about water solubility) 

Pain relief and healing (only do this in congruence with actual medical care! keep around a fluorite for sinus issues, but definitely take your cold medicine) 

Important notes~

 As with any spirit, treat your crystals with respect. especially since theyre gifts from the earth. Dont act like you own a crystal. Like a piece of the earth, we really dont own land either. You arent its master and it doesnt have to do what you say. when you buy a crystal, youre pretty much signing up to be its guardian, and adding it to your team. be good to the earth, and to your friends, and a crystal will be good to you. 

if you have suggestions on other ways to work with crystals, comment! I hope this post was informational and not a complete rambling mess. have fun working with your rocks, yall~. Post about crystal skulls coming soon.  

Admin Fifa~

[timetrickster]

Living W/ Immortality: Episode 3: Altair & Vega

EXT. FINN’S HOME

It’s been 3 weeks since what happened that night. Ever since LUCIAN had attacked WAN SHI TONG’S Library. FINN sits down at the table for breakfast with his MOM and ERIN’S had gone silent ever since that night. MOM looks at him knowing something’s wrong.

MOM

You’re silent. That’s never a good sign. What happened?

FINN

I’m fine mom.

She sits down next to him and looks him in the eyes.

MOM

No, you’re not.

FINN is silent after the truth in that simple statement cut deeper inside both hearts.

MOM

You boys have been silent for weeks and if there’s anything that I know about my own boys. Your silence means you’re facing something, but you don’t want me to worry.

FINN is silent and looks at his hands. He puts his headphones on then looks through his phone to play the next song. He presses on a song and plays “King Of The Clouds by Panic! At The Disco. FINN decides to leave and MOM doesn’t do anything to stop him. FINN slowly walks far from view from his house.

He murmurs the words to the song.

FINN

Some days I lie wide awake ‘til the sun hits my face. And I fade, elevate from the Earth. Far away to a place…   

He stops in his tracks, as he looks around him for a bit in silence. Suddenly LUCIAN appears in front of him.

LUCIAN

Boo.

He starts to freak out falling backward. Holding his head with both hands and guarding his face.

FINN

It’s not real. It’s not real.

He repeats to himself. Suddenly flash images of LUCIAN appear in his mind. He breathes heavily and tears fall down his face. His head shakes and heats up from the pressure of all the things overwhelming him. He clenches his teeth showing this face of mixed emotion, fear, and anger.

FINN screams in a rage then punches a hole in a random wall. He breathes heavy breaths before realizing what he’s done.

FINN

Crap…

He tries to budge his arm out but it’s stuck. The song stops at “

FINN

Really?! I have super strength and I can get my arm out of a stupid stone wall?!

SERENA shows up all of a sudden and notices FINN.

SERENA

Hey, Finn… uh…  you okay? Did you punch my wall?

FINN still awkwardly having half of his arm through the wall.

FINN

No… I touched a piece of the wall and it made a hole and my arm fell in.

SERENA

Uh… ok…  I’ll believe you for now, but you need help?

FINN

Yes, please.

SERENA laughs and pulls on FINN’S other arm and gets out of the wall. His right arm now covered in stone dust.

FINN

Thank you…

(looks at his right arm covered in dust)

Crap.

SERENA

You’re welcome and are you okay?

FINN

I guess I’m fine. Also, Hey.

SERENA

What do you mean by that? And Hi!

FINN

Just something happened last night that set me off and… I don’t know how to deal with it.

SERENA

Do you want to talk about it?

FINN shows reluctance, fearing that she wouldn’t understand the world of magic and the fact he’s an immortal with a 2nd personality in his head.

SERENA (cont’d)

It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it. Maybe when you’re ready?

FINN nods ‘yes’.

SERENA

Okay then. Wanna walk to school?

FINN

I’d love that.

FINN smiles and they start walking together.

SERENA

Got any new oldies songs for me to listen too?

FINN

Uh… Yeah, let me… you know what, I’ll let you choose it.

She looks through the playlist labeled “Time”

SERENA

Time?

FINN

It’s a collection of songs that resonate with my vibes. Songs from now to the 50s.

SERENA laughs at him.

SERENA

You’re adorable.

FINN

Ok, no more songs for you.

FINN tries to grab his phone back and struggles with SERENA

SERENA

Please… I’m sorry.

FINN

Fine.

He lets go of the phone.

SERENA

Yay!

She scrolls through his playlist and presses on one song. The song, “Say Say Say” by Paul McCartney plays. The song plays as the two walks together to school and spends the entire day together. The song plays through a slow montage of scenes with them all together. In classes, at lunch, hanging around the campus.

CUT TO:

END OF THE SCHOOL DAY.

The song ends at Hook 2. It’s now the end of school and the two are walking together again.

SERENA

I’m fucking tired dude.

FINN

Same…

SERENA laughs at something.

SERENA

I did love Mr. Braistch’s class today. Best teacher ever.

FINN

Did he make another racist joke? Or did he throw another insult at Waipahu again? Wait… don’t tell me, Chinese or Filipino? Either one it’s fuckin hilarious.

SERENA

He picked on Steven and said “When China takes over America, I’d be the one white guy to help with capturing Americans.” then said, “Steven when you become the general of Ewa Beach, don’t forget about me. I helped.”

FINN laughs at the story.

FINN

Oh god. You know one time, he told the Filipinos in the room that he loves their president.

SERENA

What’s wrong with that?

FINN

The current president of the Philippines started a war on drugs and said anyone would be killed on sight even holding drugs.

SERENA

Wow… yeah, that’s dark.

FINN

I know… I’m probably going to hell for laughing.

SERENA laughs at what he said then touches FINN’S shoulder.

SERENA

Aw. You’re already going to hell.

She breaks into laughter again as well as FINN.

SERENA (cont’d)

I’m kidding, you know I love you girl.

FINN

Fuck you, dude.

He jokingly says. SERENA is still laughing. FINN gets a little bitter and had this angry face. Then keeps walking.

SERENA Aw. I’m sorry. Come here.

She stops him and holds out her arms and FINN was still bitter and shakes his head. He keeps walking. She laughs at him being bitter and still bothers him for a hug.

SERENA (cont’d)

Please…

FINN

No.

SERENA

Please. PLEASE please please please please, please! If you don't give me a hug I'm gonna DIEEEEE. If you don't hug me I'm gonna start crying. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. (making a song out of it) oh-baby please please PLEASE! Oh-baby, please. That was 'Please' by Serena with Finn on bass.

FINN finally stops being bitter as he finally gives in. Still holding a bitter face but smiles a little after accepting the hug.

SERENA

Yay! Thank you. I’m sorry.

FINN

(He laughs for a bit)

You’re welcome. I forgive you but bass? Really? Bass?

SERENA does an evil laugh. It makes FINN smile.

FINN

You’re weird. I like you, dude. Wanna hang out tonight?

SERENA

I’d love to. What are we doing? Arcade again?

FINN

I was thinking of heading to the park and doing some star gazing… I don’t know why but I’ve wanted to try it out and it doesn’t hurt to try something new.

SERENA

I like that idea. Are we gonna go by the benches?

FINN

Sure… better than laying in the grass. See ya soon.

He waves bye to her as she leaves.

ERIN (V.O)

I’m impressed. You actually didn’t freak out and over think.

FINN

Thanks, Erin. Erin? Hey! Where’d you go? You’ve been silent for weeks.

ERIN (V.O)

Just needed some time to think. After the whole Lucian thing, I just needed some peace. You know?

FINN

Yeah. Good to have you back bud.

ERIN (V.O)

Good to be back. Again, you actually asked Serena out, once again I’m impressed.

FINN

That’s a first.

FINN enters his house and rushes to his room to get ready for his stargazing date with SERENA. Reprise “Just The Two Of Us” by Grover Washington Jr. plays. Picks up 3rd Verse. Shows a montage of both FINN & SERENA getting ready for the stargazing date.

FINN & SERENA

I got to get ready!

CUT TO.

NIGHT. EWA BEACH

The song keeps playing in the background. FINN leaves the house and walks to the park with a bag of food in hand.

ERIN (V.O)

Food? Drinks? Clever.

FINN

Thanks, dude.

ERIN (V.O)

What are you planning Evers?

FINN smiles.

FINN

Nothing, why?

ERIN (V.O)

You have that specific smile on your face. The smile that tells me you have a plan or created something amazing. Come on Evers! TELL ME!

LUCIAN/NARRATOR (V.O)

How adorable… the immortal two faced dumbass finally found love. Well… hopefully, if the author figures out how to do that in the next few scenes when I try to take him and his romance. Along with the other two background immortals. The author’s a bit unpredictable… which I admire.

The song keeps playing. FINN is slowly walking to the park. Other people are out playing by the playground and other sports-related activities. Meanwhile, these two laid out a blanket over a park table and both sit down on the table top. Song finishes.

FINN

I brought us dinner from Chum Wah Kum.

He holds a plastic bag with two plate lunches inside, along with utensils and napkins.

SERENA

Aw, thanks!

She grabs her plate lunch out of the bag and begins to eat and look at stars.

SERENA (cont’d)

They’re really pretty tonight.

FINN

I used to do this from time to time. I’d sit on my roof and use a telescope. Watching the stars glow in the ocean of space. It was beautiful in the silence of the night.

SERENA

Holy shit, that last sentence was poetic as fuck.

He laughs a little.

FINN

I’m not a poetic dude.

SERENA

Stop lying, I know you are! Mr. Artsy!

FINN

Nah…

SERENA

Oh come on, you’ve done so many artsy stuff. I’ve seen you draw, paint, make short films for media club, write stories, take photos and edit them. I heard you wrote a poem for that one girl.

FINN

Uh, she rejected me by the way. But yeah, kinda left that guy behind.

SERENA

Oh damn, my bad. Well, she doesn’t deserve you, if you took the time and patience to write that girl a poem.

FINN

I know… I know.

SERENA

And what made you leave being Mr. Artsy behind?

FINN

Self-Judgement, being hypercritical, literally everything where I worry about myself and what people see come from me.

SERENA

But why?

FINN

Lost myself for a while… fell away from who I used to be.

SERENA Well, whenever you feel ready to come back to Mr. Creative, I’ll be waiting for you.

FINN

Thank you. Can we look at stars now?

SERENA

Yes, please!

They both lie down on the tabletop and look at the stars. The song “Lights Down Low” by MAX plays in the background as the gaze at random stars.

SERENA

What now?

FINN

Just look at the stars. Sorry, haven’t done this in a while. Forgot all the star systems and all that.

SERENA

It’s fine. You can point out whatever and make it up along as we go.

She points to one constellation.

SERENA (cont’d)

What’s that one?

FINN

That’s the constellation of Sagittarius.

SERENA

See you do remember something!

FINN

Yeah but that one’s my zodiac so I remember that one.

SERENA

What’s are those two?

She points to two different constellations. FINN looks at them and instantly recognizes them.

FINN

Altair and Vega…  There’s actually a love story between the two. I don’t know if you want to hear it.

SERENA

Tell me!

FINN

Uh okay.

(He laughs a little then gets into this narration style voice)

I’m trying to remember but Altair and Vega were deeply in love. But we're separated by the celestial river of the Milky Way. But on one special day a year, Vega’s tears would call upon all the magpies in the world and the would form a bridge so they could spend one night of happiness together.

SERENA was astonished by the story. FINN smiles a bit awkwardly.

SERENA

That’s beautiful.

LUCIAN/NARRATOR (V.O)

Uh! Boring!

Both FINN & SERENA hear LUCIAN’S voice. Record scratch sound effect plays and the song stops at 1st Chorus.

LUCIAN/NARRATOR (V.O)(Cont’d)

I will admit, it was a nice romantic story that you gave. But the author really likes to elongate the scenes.

Several shadowy figures appear before them. Only showing red glowing eyes. They grab FINN and attempt to grab SERENA but he manages to free her from their grip before they disappear in a flash.

CUT TO:

INT - ANCIENT TEMPLE

FINN wakes up in some sort of an ancient temple. He looks around, find two monsters guarding a doorway. ATHENA & TAVEN bound and stuck to the walls of this circular dome room. LUCIAN was on the other end doing some weird shit.

FINN

(Intensely worried)

Erin?

ERIN (V.O)

(Intensely worried)

Yeah?

FINN

(Intensely worried)

What do we do?

ERIN (V.O)

(Intensely worried)

I have no fuckin clue.

Tags: @cometworks, @cookiecuttercritter, @coloursintheblur 

[minijenn]

Broken Swords and Broken Promises

When Connie Maheswaran opened her eyes, she expected to wake up in her bedroom. Her parents had still insisted that she continue her violin practice, despite the fact that she had pretty much mastered the instrument by this point.  That combined with hanging out with Steven and the twins, she was considerably tired by the end of the day.  The last thing she remembered was practically leaping into her bed and clonking out for the night.  Which is why she was surprised to find herself in the Sky Arena.  She was in her normal combat training garb rather than her sleepwear and with a normal sword that had somehow appeared at her side.

The Sky Arena was still as magnificent as she always remembered it.  The puffy, roving clouds and tall, pristine pillars always gave her a sense of nostalgia.  It was here that she and Dipper trained together under Pearl’s tutelage to master swordsmanship.  While the training was difficult, it no doubt improved her skill with a blade.  It was also here that Steven finally convinced her that she would never have to face the oncoming dangers alone.  They would always be together side by side and, if she was being honest with herself, that was when she felt the most comfort and confident.  Indeed, the Sky Arena did hold a special place in her memories.

Unfortunately, tonight it would hold a special place in her nightmares.

She was about to contemplate more about how and why she was here when the wind appeared to swirl around her.  This was rather odd considering that it hardly got this windy this high up in the Arena.  Then two of the columns that were behind her inexplicitly tipped over, colliding into one another.  The girl was confused at first, but then slowly realized that the leaning columns almost made the shape of a triangle.  Soon enough, a bright light began shine in the middle of said shape and she had to shield her eyes from its intensity.  When she uncovered her eyes, she saw a figure that she had burned into her mind from references in the journal, and she heard a laugh that she was all too familiar with. 

Bill Cipher ceased his deranged cackling and floated down to the battle-ready girl.  “Well well well,” he began.  “If it isn’t Sword Swinger herself!  I believe we’ve only met when I was test driving Pine Tree!  So, this would be my normal body, what do think, pretty snazzy huh?” the Demon asked while adjusting his bow-tie.

“Bill!” the young knight scream.  As if she were driven by instinct, the girl grabbed her sword and immediately lunged toward the demon for a lethal attack.  However, Connie only seemed to phase right through the triangle; landing right behind him.  While the girl was still confused about what just happen, Bill just turned around looking rather amused.

“Yeesh Sword Swinger, have a guy say one sentence and you’re already trying to kill him!  Talk about paranoooooid!” the dream demon said.  He then snapped his fingers and blue, ghastly chains appeared and shackled Connie by the ankles.  The girl tried to use her sword to slash the chains, but the blade simply phased through the chains much like how it did with the dream demon.  Bill then took this opportunity to swipe the sword from Connie’s hands.  “I’ll take that!  I don’t think that a girl like you should be wielding something so pointy!”

The sadistic triangle decided to take a good look into the eyes of the chained girl.  Connie was staring daggering at the demon.  She would not let this demon get the best of her.  She was strong; Pearl taught her how to be brave and how to stand up to threats like Bill.  “You know, I think there’s something missing about you.  Oh, I know!” Bill exclaimed as he suddenly slapped his hand onto Connie’s face.  “There we go, that’s much more fitting for you!”

Connie hesitantly lifted her hand to her face to see just what Bill did to her.  Her hands brushed against something that hadn’t expected to feel on her face again: her glasses.  Connie had stopped wearing her glasses back when her parents found out that her eyes were magically healed.  It was a sign of the new chapter in her life with Steven.  When she tried to remove the glasses off her face, but she just couldn’t.  It was if the glasses were glued to her face no matter how much she struggled to take them off.  “Why…why did you put these back on?”

The dream demon simply chuckled at the girl’s suffering.  “Oh, I just thought you’d prefer to be what you really are.  A meek, nerdy little girl instead of some idiot playing with swords.  Besides, glasses are suppose to make you smarter right?  Well, you’re gonna need to be for the little topic that we need to discuss.”  Bill then summoned something into his hand with flick of a wrist: a Rose Quartz gemstone.

Connie knew exactly who Bill was talking about, and she became livid about it.  This psychopath would dare invade her sleep just to taunt her about one of her closest friends?  Well, she would have none of that.  No way would she let this demon get to her by threating the boy that had changed her life and gave it new direction.  “You leave Steven out of this!”  she yelled out.  She was no damsel in distress, she was a knight; she was Steven’s knight.

“Yeah, afraid I can’t do that, Sword Swinger,” Bill said as he spun around the sword in one hand while tossing the gemstone up and down in the other. “You see, your ‘Jam Bud’ has been a real annoyance in my plans as of late.  He’s a lot like his dear old mom in that sense.  Anyway, I think it’s about time I finally deal with him and Pine Tree once and for all.  And if you were smart, you would stay out of my way that you don’t get hurt!”

“Over my dead body!” Connie blared out.  She was not going to intimidated by a sadistic geometric shape.  “I don’t care if I have to stop you in my mind or in the real world, you are NOT going to hurt Steven!  Pearl told me a knight always stays by her liege and always protect him.  Well Steven is MY liege, so if you want to get to him, you have to deal with me!  Got it?!”

At first, the dream demon seemed just stare at the girl, betraying no emotion.  However, he then started to laugh as if he had heard something rather hilarious and stupid.  “YOU, a knight?!  Don’t make me laugh,” he said as he floated down in front of her. “Bird Brain has been filling you and Pine Tree with some complete nonsense!  You think that just because you can swing a piece a metal around that you can protect anybody?  How can you protect Rose Bud when you can’t even stop me from doing THIS!”

At that, the dream demon suddenly thrusted the sword right through Connie, giving the allusion that he had pierced right through her heart.  The sadistic triangle let go of the weapon and backed away to admire his handiwork.  Connie could only just stare down at the hilt of the sword that had just been embedded her chest in complete awe.  Dark red blood was oozing out of the wound; soaking her outfit in a sickly velvet.  Her first thought was to scream in complete agony from the pain that would undoubtedly arise from this injury.  However, she was rather surprised to find that there was no pain that followed.  She put her hand to her injury, cringing slightly when she felt how warm the blood had felt against her skin.  Even without the pain, the experience was able to completely shake the girl’s fortitude.

“Yeah, I might not be able to physically harm you here, but can sure as heck give you a preview on what to expect when you pretend to be something you’re not!  You can flail around Quartzy’s girly butter knife all you want, but it’s not going to prevent you from getting skewered by someone who really know what they’re doing!” Bill told the girl condescendingly.  He then floated above her; holding out the Rose Quartz gem.  Connie’s eyes widen and prayed that Bill wouldn’t do what she thought he was going to do.  “And while you’re lying there, life draining from your eyes, you’ll see Rose Bud just staring at you and realizing that it was all his fault.  He’ll be so overcome with grief that he won’t even see his pathetic existence suddenly getting…..CRUSHED!”  The dream demon forcefully closed his hand around the gemstone; making a sickening crushing sound.

Connie felt like it was her heart in the triangle’s hand that had been crushed into dust.  She was smart enough to know that wasn’t really Steven’s gemstone, but that didn’t stop the image of the pink stone being destroyed hurt any less.  Throughout the summer, there was a tiny thought that was always been in the back of her mind.  Sometimes, it would only pass for a few seconds, other times it would keep the girl up all night.  Whether it was short lived or not, a single situation always seemed to plague her mind: What if she failed?  What she failed to keep Steven safe from all the supernatural dangers that they and the twins have faced?  What if she failed to make it to him in time, and Steven would pay the ultimate price for it?  What if she failed and then had to face his father and his guardians about her fault in his demise?  What if she failed to tell him how she really felt and how much of an impact that the young Gem had made in his life?

All of these scenarios were playing through her head as she watched the demon essentially crush her entire life.  To add insult to injury, Bill opened his hand and slowly let the dust rain down on the girl.  Connie simply bowed her head, unable to witness what was happening above her.  Small, sparkly bits of pink glitter appeared to float softly down from the sky.  It would have been strangely pretty if didn’t represent the end of one Connie’s closest friends.  Hot tears were started streaming down her cheeks.  Here she was, glasses back on her face, a sword right through her chest and kneeling down under a snow of Steven’s shattered gem.  A complete failure.

Bill then float back down to Connie and wrapped one of his arms around her shoulder.  “You see Sword Swinger?” Bill began. “All Rose Bud is going to lead you to is pain, regret and suffering.  I would say that this is surprising, but Quartzy pretty much did the same thing to Bird Brain back in the day.  If I were you, I would just go back to the way you used to be.  A sad, quiet girl who just kept to herself and understood her place.  But don’t worry though, I doubt that Rose Bud will even realize that you’re gone.  Seeing how he’ll probably be in a million little shards when I’m done with him!”

Just then, something inside of Connie just snapped.  She opened her eyes with an intensity that she had never experienced before.  She had decided that enough was enough.  She then used both hands to grab the sword hilt that was embedded in her chest and pulled it out of her in one swift motion.  She still didn’t feel any pain, but it was still rather unpleasant as she finally removed the sword from her wound.  The tip of the sword seemed to be caked with her blood, but that hardly mattered to her.  The girl then pointed the bloody sword toward Bill while glaring right into his singular eye.  “You listen to me right now.  I will never leave Steven’s side, and Steven will never leave my side.  He makes me feel strong, he makes me feel brave and he makes me feel appreciated!  Maybe I was weak before, but I’m not anymore!  I AM a Crystal Gem, and I know that one day: Dipper, Mabel, Steven and I will stop you for good!  I swear on my oath as a knight to Steven Quartz Universe!”

At first, Bill appeared to be rather surprised at this.  He wasn’t expecting the girl to bounce back from this so quickly.  However, he managed to put on a rather unimpressed expression.  He was about to let this girl think that she had caught him off guard.  “Pfft, whatever you say, Sword Swinger.  I’m only telling you what’s going to happened to you if you keep this up.  You think you Mystery Twerps are going to stop me?  Don’t make me laugh.  Greater men have tried and utterly failed at it!  If you’re not going to listen to sense, then I’m out of here!  So long Sword Swinger, I’ll be seeing your corpse on the battlefield later!”

Bill Cipher gave a snap of his fingers and him, Connie and the Arena were enveloped in a bright light.

Connie rose up from her bed with a slight gasp.  She quickly recollected what had happened with Bill and quickly examined her chest.  She confirmed that there was no bloody wound from the sword and put her hand to her face in relieve.  Only for her heart to skip a beat as she felt that her glasses had somehow managed to be put on her face.  Terrified, she immediately ripped them off her face and through them across the room.  Once she realized that was no long dreaming and calmed down, she slowly laid back down onto her bed.  Her mind was swimming with what Bill had said to her in the dream.  The vision of Bill crushing the pink gem in his hands still made feel queasy.

“I’ll protect you.” The knight whispered to herself. “I’ll protect you, Steven.  I won’t fail you.” 

[royalisefenns]

Drabble 2

The memory from that week on was hazy at best for both of them, as both parties had busied themselves with either family, social interactions or schedules that were bursting at the seams with boredom, stress and anxiety. Long ago before the two had become close, they had once remained unparalleled strangers, coexisting in a world of ignorance before it was ruined with the quickest of stares, the faintest phantoms of intrigue that would haunt one to learn more about the other. And it was true that the memories despite being of value were faint, but that was because one had been under the influence and the other had simply forgotten out of convenience. Besides, it was not like their initial meeting was some sort of grand gesture towards humanity-- it had actually been something more mundane and easy to slip through. Something that happened everywhere and coexisted in any universe as a trope to see who was cast as a main character and who was set aside to be the supporting role. It was a test to determine the love interests and--

“Hey, I’m walking here, bastard! Do you want to go? Go ahead. Run me over if you dare!” Ren yelled, perhaps a bit too loudly for the neighborhood’s liking. This was the fifth time this fucker had done this. The fifth. How many times does this guy honestly have to try to flatten her to a pancake for him to realize that by this wasn’t okay? Or had he not learned from last time when he had almost gotten her and she had come home with a scraped knee and a sprained wrist-- around the same time he was left stranded outside of the city because his tires managed to get slashed? Or from the other time when he had attempted to accuse her over slashing his tires when a bucket of  paint that had been opened and temporarily placed on a shelf had suddenly fell and painted him a lovely shade of Royal Blue? How many times did fate have to intervene to get this asshole off of her back and make him drive like a normal person-- y’know, without trying to run a certain person over? Couldn’t he take a break of this?

"Trust me, I will!” The driver hissed.

Apparently not.

“Why can’t you be like any other high school kid around here? You should be vaping behind a McDonalds or taking a test for geometry, instead, here you are during open campus, wasting your life trying to murder a seventeen year old for no damn reason!” The girl breathed with a sigh, shaking her head in shame at the fellow teenager. She never understood what she ever did to piss him off like this to the point of him trying to flatten her or drive her out of this area of the neighborhood, honestly. All she ever wanted was to go get some fucking ice cream and this was the result? She had even taken an alternate route from her house and this guy was still on her ass like white on rice! Was it because she had still passed by the park? Maybe that was it. The park had always been his old haunt and where his girlfriend had recently dumped him but damn it, how was she supposed to know this beforehand? How was she supposed to know to stay clear of the park on this day? It’s not like she could read people from a distance! And he always threatened her because she met Becca one time at the market place! What sense did that honestly make? 

“You know the reason, you fucking moron! You were there when Becca dumped me! Your bad luck caused this! And now you’re gonna pay, you fucking pipsqueak!” She hated being an empath at times like this because she knew how emotional he felt. She knew how ready he was to do the deed. Humans were always so impulsive, so brash and unfiltered-- she had to know, she was among them and was half human. But still it never ceased to amaze her how utterly pissed this guy was for merely being within the same area within the city as him and his girlfriend to the point of blaming her for their separation. Honestly, all she had done was get some ice cream from the little ice cream cart that was passing by, on the other side of the park. She had walked, the scoundrel, from the little vendor to the sign of the park like a black cat strutting across the pavement, fabled with bad luck and ill will according to legend and had passed down her luck to him on her way home while passing him, unaware she even would pass him until Becca had greeted her by the street corner of Vernon and Change, where the sidewalk dipped into the road in order to form a bridge across the warming ground. She had recalled that after committing her crime of jaywalking and had returned safely to the other side of the road, she had began to make her course home before she glanced over and heard the two former lovers bickering. And then she finished her ice cream. Because she didn’t know that would happen and didn’t want to be the awkward guy trying to instigate another screaming match. That was what she would be charged with. 

“I bought over priced ice cream?” An awkward laugh escaped her lips as dark eyes darted from side to side, thinking and looking for methods of escape: Left side was clear. Right side had someone's prized flower garden that she was sure someone had forgotten to water. There was a small gathering of people at the back of her talking to some kid, expecting a fight. To the front of her was the obnoxious Ford (”Fix-Or-Repair-Daily”) SUV that was a few models too old for her liking with an equally obnoxious mustard yellow paint job. Dude’s truck looked like a goddamn condiment. Underneath she could slip past had her body been smaller and less prone to breakage as any other human’s would be in that situation. Over her was a clear blue sky with light winds. It would rain soon-- she could feel it in her bones. No expensive drones in sight thanks to the lack of people who could afford them here. The road beneath her Mickey Mouse converse had to be redone again but would take too long because the state lacked funding. Someone was cutting down a three nearby-- probably because someone got tired of looking at it for too long.

Escape routes on both sides but one side posed more challenges than the other.

“You’re better than this, really. This is just doin’ too much, don’t you think?” She put her hands up as a sign of surrender. “Ever mind the rule of three--  what you cast upon others will be cast upon you in threes. You’ve already tried to kill me this morning. Don’t make the same mistake again on the same day.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” She leapt back to the right where she knew she could hide or yell for help. The left side was too noisy, too loud. It would be hard for her to ask for help in that circle when everyone was rallying for a fight. She had to be somewhere quiet to focus. She couldn’t focus right now.

She couldn't.

A flash of bad luck led to her own succession, as she was quickly brought to rescue by a falling set of branches, crashing down upon the car’s roof, a few inches away from the angered driver and plunging into the metal with incredible force, as if mystic forces had shoved the set of branches into the automobile like one would do a sword and scabbard. A few additional branches had broken the window and the driver Steven was left stupidly gaping like a fish out of water, looking to the girl as shadows curled around her in defiance. She had not counted on her luck to bring her such an outcome, but she quietly thanked the gods and made a mental note to leave offerings by the window sill when she got home. 

Still, the shadows danced underneath her feet, writing out microscopic sigils that she could not yet see, and laid out steps for her to dance to if they were music, creating a ring of blackened earth and flowers to emerge from it. But she did not wish to dance-- she wished to rest. 

Cracking her fingers to post pone their stiffness, she began to hum underneath her breath as she made the trek home, which was a good four and a half blocks from where Lady Luck had granted her advances and one block away from the local grocery store where she could secretly pick up ingredients for tonight’s dinner (that Niamh had no way of knowing about since she detested the idea of her own niece cooking and because Harley knew how to keep his mouth shut), some incense to burn to freshen and cleanse the room of any shitty luck she had managed to snag during her encounter with He-Who’s-Car-Is-Wrecked and some little polished stones she had managed to find and buy. Along with some new sponges and cleaning supplies to dispose of the evidence.

She didn’t understand why her aunt was so against her learning how to cook. She wasn’t a dumbass who managed to burn Jello like Becca; If anything, she knew how to cook a few things, from traditional dishes from the Otherworld, to chicken, steak, or shrimp stir-fry, sautee, meatloaf, a few different soups and bake. She couldn't bake a lot aside from brownies but she made some kick ass lavender bread, if she did say so herself. Nobody else could hold a candle to that bread. If they could, then obviously she needed some cooking classes. She knew how to operate a stove, an oven, a fucking crock pot-- the point was, it wasn’t like Ren was a child trying to burn gummy worms and eat it. She actually knew how to sustain herself. She had to. So she cooked in secret. It was her little weakness. 

Aside from sleep, that is.

Stifling a yawn as she walked out of the brightly lit store and into the parking lot, Ren began to head home, as did a group of girls. Loud girls. Loud girls who she could hear over Wonderland Rebound. “I’m telling you, I saw a real faery! I saw one!”

The girl nearly dropped her damn groceries when she glanced at the speaker, who’s rose pin spoke all that needed to be said about her.

Marie Lenoir Bellerose.

Sorry my writing is kind of rushed for this. I was really tired when I wrote this and I have been trying to work on this for a while but kept forgetting. 

yes this correlates to how the two meet, I shall start writing the rest in the morning, but for now I shall sleep 

[trickshxt]

cry wipe away their tears. / ghoststorytm

When he’d made Level 5 he’d been sat in a room, handed a thick folder without a word, and left with a buzzing fluorescent light to read. So he’d done what any good Level 5 Field Operative would do: he read.

And he read…

And he read…

He read until his hands cramped and the papers trembled - a warning or a whimper even he wasn’t sure - from fingers back to the pile that was as much black as it was white. His eyes blurred until words streaked into grey shapes, grey blurs, a grey mess so thick he checked his fingers for fear of staining.

When Sitwell came back he stood, knees wobbly, and asked one question. “You sure about this?”

Sitwell raised an eyebrow; Barney suspected it was a skill required of Field Lieds. (He wondered if there were mandatory classes.) “About retrieval?”

Barney shook his head. “About keepin’ it from him.”

The mention hung heavy between them and Barney was no fool. He knew the pregnant silence of indecision, could feel it twist in the man’s chest even if Sitwell Jasper showed no outward change. “The decision has been made.”

But by who, Barney wondered. All he could do was nod. “Course it has.”

“Is that going to be a problem, Agent Barton?”

There was really only one answer and they both knew it. “No, sir.”

Jasper shifted, just a minutia, and Barney saw the way his neck tilted, consideration on the man’s mind. But brown eyes flicked to the camera in the corner and Barney, though disappointed, was unsurprised when Sitwell straightened his shoulders. “We leave at 04:00 sharp.”

“Yes, sir.”

As he reached the door, Sitwell added, “And Barton?”

“Yeah?”

“Bring a bow.”

The order had made more sense the moment he’d stepped off the jet. Ice bit into the sliver of cheeks showing through his mask and the overheated cargo pit suddenly seemed far less of an inconvenience. Muttered curses reached his ears as guns were quickly holstered against the rapidly dipping temperature. Barney’s grip just tightened over the grip of Clint’s third best recurve.

Any outward signs of HYDRA had already been erased with the worsening weather. A tip of a boot was the only hint of the siege that had occurred. Medics were zipping up body bags, red snow already brown, and Barney looked away with a tight coil in his stomach. (Sacrifice for a greater tomorrow, he reminded himself.) The fortress, built into stone, was silent to it all. Barney wondered what it would say if it could speak.

What it would scream.

He found Sitwell easily enough; the man commanded a natural authority when he chose to do so. Their base was small, but well organized as such and Sitwell was at the center of it, fielding questions with an easy yes, no, and hold.

When Sitwell turned, he nodded once. “I want you with me.”

He nodded and flicked the quiver open at his waist. “Sure.”

And follow he did. Through a labyrinth of tunnels, each more sterile than the last, the body count higher the further in. The stench of iron presided, a metallic king laughing until Barney realized it was solely the splash of his boots on the floor. He kept his gaze steady, breathing calm, ignoring the way ghostly faces passed in the corner of his vision.

(He’d think about those halls for weeks later, in the dead of night; feeling the cold press into his head and pick at the spot between his eyes.)

Their destination was a single room, no different from the other concrete doors or labs that Barney had seen since he’d started field ops. Beakers of things, tubes of liquids Barney knew he’d likely never know the true function of, consoles with monitors flashing messages in Russian (he’d know that soon enough; his first class was in two days). Barney prided himself on knowing a good deal of things, but this realm? This realm was a life not his.

He paused, however, at something he did know. A heartbeat, low, steady, but oh so low, flashed up on a touch screen, distorted, then started again. With a frown he reached out a hesitant finger and tapped at the screen. A form appeared, levels dipping slowly before rising, a name: Актив

“Barton.”

He left it be and stopped at Sitwell’s side. “Huh.”

Their breath fogged as they stared, all of them, so silent they could hear the zippers of bags closed from further up; ziiiiiiiiiiiip-ziiiiiiiiiiiip-ziiiiiiiiiiiip.

Barney had once argued with Clint, long ago, about legends. They’d been young - not that Clint had lost that idealistic streak - and Barney had been reading out loud from an ancient library book missing half the cover. He remembered stopping, thinking Clint had turned off his hearing aids.

Instead, Clint had bit his lip. “What do you think they’re like?”

“What who’s like?” He’d been annoyed; Pecos Bill had been his favorite back then.

“All of them. Pecos Bill an’ Paul Onion an’ John Henry.”

Barney didn’t bother to correct him. “They’re not real, Clint. They’re just legends.” Clint had quirked his brow so Barney put the book down and repeated it, signing as well. “Legends.”

“What’s that mean?”

“A legend is a story about someone or somethin’ inspiring. Something that makes you want to be a good person.”

Clint chewed his lip. “But they aren’t real…”

“No,” Barney said. “They aren’t.”

“But what if I wanna be one someday?”

Barney had snorted. “A legend?” At Clint’s nod he’d put the book down. “Gonna have to do somethin’ really good then. Somethin’ so big and good and that helps so many people that no one can forget it.”

“Like Captain America?”

“Yeah.”

“But he was real!”

Which is a paradox Barney had to think about for a moment. “Yeah, he was. But see, he only became a legend after he died. People during his time? Woulda called him a hero, but not a legend.” He didn’t add that he wasn’t entirely convinced one Steven Rogers had been the paragon of perfection he’d been touted to be. It wasn’t what Clint wanted to hear tonight.

Clint had gone quiet, still. “You g-gotta die to be a legend?”

Barney had shrugged; it would be a conversation they’d forget tomorrow. “Yeah. So no going and being a legend any time soon, ok?” And he’d smiled, picked up the book, and changed the subject.

Now…

Now he stood there, over two decades later, staring down at a living, breathing, legend and wondered if James Buchanan Barnes didn’t really die years ago.

***

The last time he’d seen Barnes, it had been delivering the cryogenic tube to S.H.I.E.L.D. R&D months ago. He’d been kindly told to leave, now, thank you Agent Barton, and when he’d asked Sitwell a week later about progress he’d been told in no uncertain terms that the entire topic was on blackout and would result in instant termination should it be uttered again.

So he’d left it alone because he had Russian classes to take (though he suspected they’d been ordered a bit prematurely), Clint fell off a building, Coulson needed another body to cover for said falling disaster, and life in general didn’t stop just because a body was pulled from the ice - that he could say from experience given last year.

By the time he thought about James Buchanan Barnes again, it was 3:30am and he was just stepping off a Quinjet with a headache that rivaled the ego of the Chinese crime lord they’d finally, finally tracked down in Thailand.

He hadn’t expected Sitwell to be there, so the even “Agent Barton?” had caused him to stumble on the last few steps of the ramp.

“Jasper?” And he’d almost corrected himself, but Jasper was indeed there, watching him with the eye of someone about to ask a favor.

(Barney knew that look well.)

“If you’re not busy…”

“I gotta debrief…” But Jasper straightened, neck stiff, and Barney could see the collar of his shirt was damp enough to loosen his tie. “Can wait, though.”

Sitwell nodded. “Good. Come with me.” And Barney had followed him to the elevator, watching as Sitwell’s pass was swiped and one of the buttons that never worked for him dinged softly.

“Everything ok?” he asked, careful, because eyes and ears were everywhere, but damn if he didn’t at least have something of a heart left to use.

Sitwell Jasper caught his eye, something akin to a fond smile flitting over the corner of his mouth. “I am quite all right, thank you, Agent Barton.” Barney relaxed. Up until the doors opened and Sitwell asked, smoothly, “By the way, how is your Russian?”

Arguing flooded in, rapid fire Russian, answered in singular, solid blocks of ice that took Barney a moment to recognize as a voice.

A medic - Agent Petrov (new, young, desperate for approval) - hovered around what Barney logically knew was James Buchanan Barnes, aka The Winter Soldier, aka The Asset, aka Bucky. But broad, bare shoulders, sweats that probably would have fit one, and a tangled mop of hair were so still, so quiet, so stoically hunched that Barney felt a chill go up his spine. The air was akin to the mausoleum Barney had broken into on a dare once; numbingly devoid of anything but dying memory.

NO.> Bucky? James? Barnes spoke so suddenly Barney jumped, jaw gritting and very human hand squeezing so tight the bones cracked.

Petrov, bless the kid, reached a hand out before Barney could warn him.

Lightning fast Barnes was on his feet, Petrov backed against the wall with a human hand inches from his head and a wall of well-honed muscle reminding him just how much worse it could be.

Barney noticed three things then. The first was the way that Barnes’ breathing was non-existent. The second was how Barnes’ fingers trembled. The third was how his left arm, dull even in his lighting, didn’t move.

Sitwell stepped forward then, clearing his throat.

Barney saw the way Barnes reacted to that. Knew the reaction well. (Mr. Barton was his father, always a figure he couldn’t, wouldn’t be.)

Barnes let his hand drop and Petrov’s feet found motion then, propelling him toward Sitwell with barely contained terror in his eyes. Barney felt a flare of pity for him. He’d been overambitious; the pathway to Hell and all that.

Barnes didn’t turn to them, so Barney didn’t move. Jasper, bless his heart, motioned for Petrov to get on the elevator and then glanced at him. Barney frowned a bit. Why him? Of all people… He followed Sitwell’s pointed look, saw the way Barnes’ fingers were curled back into a fist, and a small part of him got it. Ah.

All right then.

Sitwell said, Russian accented and halting in places.

Barney’s Russian isn’t that good, but even he knows that tone. That nasty, sliding, bitter hiss.

Sitwell turned, giving him a long look, tapped the phone at his belt once, and then disappeared into the elevator with a near babbling Petrov. Barney found that without them, the silence deepened until he could hear the metal plates of Barnes’ non-functioning arm shift gently.

What do you say to a legend? he asked himself, bitterly. The thought made him snort in derision at the whole thing. Why me?

The sound found two blue eyes pinned to him; unnervingly clear, unnervingly far. Barney swallowed, went still, and tried to think. What do you say to a dead man?

He’s not dead, he’s alive.

But was he?

(Was this what sacrifice for a greater good got you in the end? a dark part of him asked.)

Barney had died once, for two minutes, a few years ago. The whole experience hadn’t left him with any real insight on the afterlife, though the tunnel had been warm and the light certainly had been bright. There had been thoughts: Harold, Edith, Clint, the circus, the army, the time after. So many memories he could only explain it all in gestures rather than words, and even then he fell short of the jarring disconnection that had come when he’d come back.

In the end he had decided he’d been lucky.

Staring at Barnes - the way his eyes never wavered, watching him, waiting for a strike - he realized that this man had yet to decide whether he was lucky or not. Had yet to fully feel out what life was, what it could be, whether he wanted it or not. Maybe, maybe, he could work with that.

Barnes stared, unblinking. Barney winced at his own Russian, wondered briefly if he’d conjugated wrong, and cleared his throat.

He looked around the room - sterile, bare, anything remotely weapon like removed. A poster on the wall with a cat on a branch: Hang In There.

Barnes didn’t move, didn’t breath. Barney pushed his frustrations down and tried not to curse Jasper too much. Some guidance would have been nice. And had Barnes even blinked yet? He thought back to the reading from months ago and took a gambit.

That got a blink from Barnes. The briefest of shifts in weight, metal creaking. Barney inwardly smiled. He added, quickly,

Barnes looked away, but Barney could feel his eyes on him. A curl of something in the slant of his brow now.

He trailed as Barnes looked away, shoulders sloping. A miscalculation, he realized, bringing it up.

The name hung heavy in the air, heavier than the silence, pervasive in its command of them both. It felt odd to say it out loud; he could see it felt odd to hear it. At least they were both on common ground.

Stop.>

Barney is startled at the response. His mouth clicks shut. Barnes isn’t looking at him, but Barney is acutely aware of being seen. If there’s anything he has learned from Clint, however, it’s when to not stop.

Barnes curled a fist. Barney pressed.

Enough.>

He gestured at Barnes.

Barnes’ shoulders tightened and Barney scrambled, unsure of whether that was a good sign or bad. He needed a response. Needed that curl from earlier to be drawn out. And he wasn’t a psychologist, so far from it that it hurt. But Barney Barton had grown up knowing one thing very, very well: that anger brought out something in everyone. Every time.

Still no answer, and he was running out of words. What did you say to a man who had lost everything to a choice not made for himself? What did you say to someone lost in time? What did you say to someone dead?

What did you say to a legend?

It hit him then.

Barney knew Barnes had moved even before he felt the fingers around his neck or the wall against his skull. His feet left the ground and pain exploded through his head, down his neck, into his spine. His hands came up, an automatic response, to curl around Barnes wrist and he could feel skin under his nails. His foot tried to kick but wouldn’t respond as pain, pain, pain radiated all the way to his feet.

ENOUGH!>

Barney creaked his eyes open, blood rushing from the corner of his mouth as he sucked in a breath. Barnes’ eyes were narrowed points, black, and wet-

Wet.

It seemed like minutes passed as he watched. Morbidly curious, dazedly fascinated, as a tear slid out of the corner of Barnes’ eye and glided so, so slowly down his cheek. He could see the trail it left behind. Could smell salt in his nose and taste it mixed with iron on his tongue.

His brain felt foggy and the Russian words rolled around in his mind before slipping out of his ears. He struggled, felt the grip tightened, and gasped. It came out as a creak. “Who….be…”

Barnes’ eyes narrowed, but the grip lessened just enough. Speak.>

Fucker knew English. Of course he did. “Who do y-you want to be?”

Barnes didn’t answer.

Barney licked his lips and fought his brain to loosen his own grip on Barnes’ arm. “Who do you want to be? C-Cause you can be the other guy, or this guy, b-but you can’t be…” He coughed then and fought for the word. “Nothing. You’re not nothing, B-Barnes. So you gotta choose what you’re gonna be…”

The grip hadn’t loosened and oxygen wasn’t coming like it used to. You should probably do something, his brain supplied helpfully. Without thinking much on it, he reached out with a thumb and guessed as to which of the three faces in front of him was the real one. His thumb slid, wiping the second? third? tear away.

“Not nothin’.”

Barney fell to the floor with the grace of a sack of potatoes, knees hitting the ground so hard he groaned. His wrist twinged as it broke his fall, a secondary pain to the fact that his throat was on fire. Oxygen, sweet oxygen, poured in as he gasped, coughing blood against the ground from the bit tongue. His hands came up before he could think of how this all looked, feeling his neck, brain still unconvinced there weren’t fingers there.

He heard Barnes walk away and had already composed a half formed apology to Sitwell consisting mostly of a punch to the face when the steps came back.

When he opened his eyes, Barnes was crouched in front of him. Perfectly balanced, dead arm and all. Holding out a bottle of water.

Barney took it slowly, gulped down too much, coughed, and wiped off his chin with his arm. He stared at Barnes, wary for a moment, before trying another sip. “So?” he croaked.

Barnes had the decency to at least look slightly surprised before his expression settled back into cold uncertainty.  

But the words had lost some of the hard edge and Barney felt as if he could speak now without cutting himself on the edges. “Didn’t today.” Because Barney wasn’t fooling himself on this. You didn’t waste money on tools you weren’t going to use.

With one last cough, he capped the water and stood uneasily. Barnes stood with the grace of a trained dancer. It absolutely was not fair. Barney ran a hand along his neck, up to his head. He winced at the soft spot there.

Barnes simply watched.

Barney let his hand drop. “So?” Barnes raised an eyebrow. “Where do you want to go?”

This time Barney let a bit of his irritation color his voice. “Already said,” he wheezed. “Ya didn’t.” Barnes almost, almost looked apologetic. He would have to get better at reading just what that slant at the corner of his eyes meant. “Maybe tomorrow. Today, though, you get your choice of anywhere on this floor. So, where do you wanna go?”

And for a brief, brief moment, Barney could have sworn he saw something not a scowl in the crook of Barnes’ lips. It was gone in a flash. He’d missed it and would likely not see it again for awhile. But Barney needed a win right then and there so he took it for what he thought it was and held it close.

That was good enough for Barney; he took him to a vending machine, letting him pop in quarters for an ice cream bar, and wondered as he watched Barnes consider when he should mention the lie that would come apparent some day.

Maybe tomorrow.

For now, he wanted to know what ice cream living legends preferred.

[oograths-pizza-and-chill]

Dear Steven Universe and said fandom The whole beef i have with Steven Universe as a show and the fandom, a copy paste text post from what I said on a r/mylittlepony post asking why bronies are so accepting. The writers and the fans took away the innocence and joy of the show. I signed up to watch "3 and a half gems" not "game of stones." Season 1 was great because it was filled to the cider glass brim with whimsical fun and it was a pinkie pie's party that wouldnt end. Than the climatic entrance of the biggest cheeto puff we ever saw entered and thats where i knew (more like a week or two later) stuff was on a path to spiral out of control. Rebecca Sugar had a great formula going for it but once she gave Steven character development his little mind didn't know how to handle it and he lost the best thing he had going for him. His loving character trait. Twilight sparkle had something similar where she became princess twiggles and literally didnt know what she was supposed to do with her life but she was able to stay true to herself. Steven didn't and you may argue that he gave peridot a fair chance but role around the entrance of the blue gremlin of "i hate everyone" town and you see exactly what im talking about. He was hesitant and unsure of her. Scared and on the defensive. He started to keep his family and friends close but started to keep everyone else out unless they showed reason of being good hearted. This exactly reflects the su fandom and how it devolved. "But oograth how did you know it would turn this way from back in season 1?" And friendo theres two words to sum that up. "Steven Bomb." The bomb did exactly what was intended and set off a chain reaction of the largest fandom outbreak that was more cancerous and spread faster than the infectious disease of superwholock. Knowing my past experience of fandoms, i knew that the fun ride would turn into a rollercoaster to hell. With steven bomb after steven bomb the fandom got worst after each one because ms sugar butt herself was that girl that would tease you so much where pressure was building up but would tie your hands behind your back so you were unable to rub one out which would unintentionally piss you off but you were so lost into the hiatus madness that would occur so often that you were unable to see straight. Now everybody is literally a shitposting idiot or some theory craved retard to the point of being mini ronaldos. Everytime i see some theorist pop up on my tumblr dash or on one of the su subs i literally read it in his voice because thats what i think that fan has become. Another thing thats peeved me off which i attribute to the madness and is caused by their excuse of "hiatus madness" is they literally have no other content going for them outside of their fanart. No music, no fan animations, nothing of high quality. Instead we get crap like "what if all the gems were cars from the cars movies." If i didnt have a strong stomach im pretty sure id vomit as much as that family guy episode, you know the one. Their music is literally "heres my version of the opening theme." One of the few songs i found enjoyable was a god damn banjo solo. No singing no techno rave stuff. Just a banjo. Where's the originality? wheres the good music? You'd think a musical show like steven universe that doesnt even have a lot of full songs would prompt the fandom to make a lot of their own. But no they dont. Instead im stuck with what the show has to offer and, except for the occasional outliers, its literally the same song just different words and different people singing it. I want diversity like pinkie pies smile smile smile to rainbow dashs awesome as i wanna be. But nobody has any talent over there. I dont either and yeah thats my fault for that but cmon people take your glorified heads out of your cookie cat filled freezers. When even i called them out everybody was either downvoting my post or flagged it as "trolling." That there was the final straw. Dont get me wrong su is a good show but ever since the start of season 4 its been on an accelerated downhill slope of "why even bother." I stopped enjoying the show except for a few here and there but i feel its more of an obligation to finish it. Theres basically nomore whimsical fun left in the show and instead its rebecca satan pants trying to cut up steven more and more until he reaches his "breaking point" *csi miami yesh scream* Honestly i hope and feel the show is going to end soon and if it doesnt than the fandom is gonna suffocate from its own shitposting and cancer. Tl;dr the shows stupid and too dark and not fun anymore and the fandom is cancer.

A guy fed up with @rebeccasugar 's and the fandom's bullshit