#this could have all been resolved three years ago if I had the gems for a silhouette scroll

[zenmai--jikake--no--komoriuta]

tfw you find a breeding project component with the exact colours you've been trying for for 4 years now (but on the wrong gender) almost immediately after having just hit the button to breed your two current components for that project.................

on the plus side, because this new component is a G1 and has no lineage, they're breedable with my pair's offspring!! so I can FINALLY get this damn thing over with quicker if I get a female hatchling with closer colours..... murk/bronze/peach ♀ you shall elude me no longeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer /shakes fist

[delicatenightfury]

Star of the Mountain Chapter 31

Warnings: fluff, angst, canon-level violence, spoilers for the Hobbit films

Pairing: OC x Thorin Oakenshield

Beta'd By: @mistys-blerbz

Author's Note: please do not steal my work! I do not own the Hobbit or the characters, but I do own my OCs and the parts of the plot that are not part of the movies. I have worked very hard on this fic. Please be respectful and do not steal.

Please comment, reblog, and like!

Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Being king came with new responsibilities. Especially since Erebor had been abandoned for so long, and the Battle had taken place not long ago. Thorin found himself extremely busy.

To start, Erebor needed cleaning and rebuilding. Nearly all available dwarves were working on clearing stone and making things back to the way they were. Dwarves were slowly returning to the mountain, meaning that living spaces needed to be open and clean, as well as markets and other areas. Thankfully those that came were willing to help see Erebor returned to its former glory.

Then came the politics. Several days following the battle, Thorin worked on drafting a treaty with Thranduil and Bard. The three rulers agreed to become allies, since once their kingdoms were functional again, they would all benefit from one another. During these meetings, Bard tended to be the collected one of the rulers, but other mediators helped to resolve some tensions.

Thorin also made an effort to right the wrongs he had made. Gold was given to Bard so that the humans could begin rebuilding Dale and providing for themselves. The White Gems of Lasgalen were returned to Thranduil.

And Bard returned the Arkenstone.

When he had placed the stone on the table before them all, Thorin had tensed. He hadn’t truly seen the Arkenstone in years, and there it was before him. He had shut his eyes after a minute and forced himself to look at Bard.

“Thank you,” he had said.

Bard had nodded. Thranduil however had asked the question lingering in all of their minds:

“What will you do with it?” He then had added, “I would rather not repeat the events of the past.”

Thorin agreed. He was going to strive to keep his promise, to not become his grandfather again, nor succumb to the dragon sickness again. So, he decided to return the Arkenstone to its place in the throne room. It would still serve as the king’s jewel, but it would remain there.

Once the external politics were settled, Thorin found himself dealing with the internal politics involving those in Erebor. With Balin and Dwalin’s help, Thorin put together a counsel to help manage those affairs. Several members of the counsel had been in his grandfather’s counsel. The several new faces were dwarves that were well respected.

Soon enough, the counsel was meeting almost every day to sort out the necessary items. As things within Erebor began to settle with its reconstruction, the meetings would begin to become fewer during the following weeks.

It all was rather tedious. And exhausting.

And then there was recovery.

Amongst everything that Thorin had on his plate, he was still physically recovering from the battle. After almost three weeks, he was almost back to normal. The cuts and bruises he had sustained during the battle were gone. The only lingering pain was in his foot where he had been stabbed, and being on his feet for long periods of time did not do the wound much good. Oin was constantly nagging him to rest more. 

But there was another pain Thorin felt, one that could not be healed by medicine.

For almost a week after the funeral, Thorin had not seen Oreliell anywhere. After asking some of the company, they said that Vedis was enforcing rest upon her sister, much to Oreliell’s displeasure. But now, Thorin was seeing her seemingly everywhere. She was more active now that she had recovered some. Tauriel mentioned that Vedis had been doing a healing spell almost every day for her since her wounds were a bit more extensive.

During the battle, Oreliell had received various cuts and bruises, as was expected in battle. She also had some bruised ribs, a slight head injury, and a stab wound in her side. Not to mention the fact that she nearly drowned. However, now that she had recovered some, she was mobile around the mountain. Meaning Thorin saw her around more often. And while he was happy to see her throughout his day, he also found it painful.

She was avoiding him. More accurately, Vedis was making it difficult for him to talk to her. Oreliell was always with her sister and any time Thorin tried to approach them, Vedis would glare at him. He knew that Vedis was frustrated with his actions before the battle, but he had doubted the lengths she would go to after the fact.

“I don’t know how much longer I can handle this,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. Balin and Dwalin walked on either side of him as they made their way to the council hall for the upcoming meeting. “I can barely get close to her.”

“Vedis does seem more protective than usual,” Dwalin said.

“Her sister was injured not long ago,” Balin pointed out. “Perhaps Vedis is just being vigilant.”

“Oreliell can look after herself,” Thorin said. “I haven’t had one moment with her since before the battle.”

The sons of Fundin exchanged a look.

“Perhaps that has something to do with it?” Balin said. “Unfortunately, things were not left well off. Yes, the sickness had great influence, but perhaps it has left a lingering wound for Oreliell.”

“And that is why I wish to speak with her, Balin,” Thorin said. “She is my One. I want to make amends, but that is hard to do when I can’t… Kili, what are you doing?”

The prince stood up straight and turned to face them as they came to a stop.

“Oh, hello uncle,” Kili said with a sheepish smile on his face. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

“What are you up to, lad?” Dwalin asked, crossing his arms in suspicion.

“Nothing.” The older dwarves continued to look at him. “Nothing, I swear! I was coming to the council hall as agreed for our meeting today and heard voices inside. I was going to go in, until I heard someone mention Oreliell.”

Thorin stood up a little straighter.

“What about Oreliell?” Kili looked hesitant to continue. “Kili.”

“They’re not entirely pleased, Thorin,” Kili said. “They’ve been talking about her, Vedis, and Tauriel, and their presence here in Erebor.”

Thorin stepped forward so he could take Kili’s place by the door. He could hear several dwarves conversing inside. 

“How long must we continue to tolerate this?” one dwarf, Lord Korvon, exclaimed. “Erebor has been reclaimed, and yet those elves continue to wander our halls as if they were their own! Who do they think they are?”

“I heard that they were part of the King’s company and helped reclaim the mountain,” another voice said.

“And I heard that they used magic to seduce our king and prince,” said another. “This whole thing might be a plot from Thranduil to try and overtake our kingdom.”

“Whatever the case may be,” Lord Korvon said, “I do not like having elvish filth walking freely around Erebor.”

“And how do we bring up the matter with the king? Whether he is under a spell, or truly allies with the elves, how can we expect to bring up the subject?”

“We will find a way. We simply must wait for the right opportunity.”

Thorin stepped away from the door, glaring at the wood.

“What happened?” Balin said.

“It is as Kili said. They are discussing the probability of the elves using magic on us to stay in Erebor, or if they were working for Thranduil to overtake us. They are suggesting that they be dealt with.”

Dwalin seemed to growl.

“They have no right to assume such things,” he said. “I ought to go in there and-”

“No,” Balin said. “That will only increase the conflict. Do not forget that when the sisters joined our company back in Rivendell, many had the same thoughts. But we came to know them and thus saw them differently.”

“You’re right,” Kili said. “They proved themselves to us, gained our trust.”

“Precisely. To overcome this, we must show that they are on our side.”

“What do you propose, Balin?” Thorin asked.

The next day, Thorin looked as the doors to the council hall opened. The dwarf lords were talking amongst themselves but quickly went silent when they stepped inside. Thorin had to hold back a smile at their surprised expressions.

“My lords,” he greeted. “Come. Join us.”

The lords slowly came forward and took their seats at the table.

“Let’s get started,” Balin said.

The meeting got underway. Balin led discussion, bringing up various topics that needed to be addressed. However, after a point, Lord Korvon cleared his throat.

“Do you have something to add, Lord Korvon?” Thorin said.

“I apologize for the interruption, my king,” he said, “but I feel as though I speak for us all when I ask /why are… elves present today?\”

Thorin smiled when he switched to speaking in their native tongue.

“/I invited them.\” He glanced at Oreliell and Vedis before looking back at the dwarf. “/I have asked them to join this council.\”

Surprise overtook their faces.

“/What do you mean by this, my king?\” asked Lord Trinan.

“/This means that from this point on, they shall be part of my council. I greatly value their opinions and believe they will provide great insight.\”

“/Insight or not, my king, they are elves. What interest could they possibly have in dwarven politics, other than potential sabotage?\” Lord Korvon said, standing up. His face was becoming red as he glared at the women.

Thorin studied the dwarf for a long moment.

“/Are you questioning the king’s decision, Lord Korvon?\” Dwalin asked.

“/I believe I have a right to do so. We know next to nothing about these women other than they are now living within our walls. And for what reason?\”

“/Perhaps we should hear the elves out, Korvon,\” said Lord Malrak, “/and learn how they have earned their place at table.\”

“/They have no place here. Elves do not belong among dwarves. There is another plot here. Let us throw them out and be done with them!\”

Dwalin’s hands tightened into fists and Thorin noticed Kili start to rise out of his seat. He quickly waved his hand in order to stop them, but their movements were halted when Oreliell rose to her feet.

“/I believe it best, Lord Korvon, if you heed the advice of your fellow lords. They seem to hold more wisdom than you in this moment.\”

Korvon nearly stumbled back in shock.

“You speak khuzdul?”

“Quite well.”

“It is sorcery.”

“We have no magic abilities, Lord Korvon. We are ordinary, just like you.”

“I am nothing like you, elf.”

“Perhaps not. But as your fellow lords have stated, it might be best to listen for answers rather than accuse individuals of treasonous things.”

She stared at Korvon, as if daring him to make another statement. Slowly, Korvon sat down. Thorin smiled. Oreliell turned to look at the rest of the table.

“My name is Oreliell,” she said. “My sister and I hail from the lost realm of Thananti in the Icebay of Forochel. We are allies and friends of the king, a choice made of free will by all parties. We joined the company in Rivendell, where we chose to travel with them to help them reclaim their homeland from Smaug. Following the dragon’s death, we served on the battlefield to defend the mountain and its king.”

“How do we know that none of what you say is a lie?” Korvon asked. He glared at her as she sat back down. “I mean no offense, my king, but I do not believe that any of the members of the company would be good judges of this.”

“And why is that, Lord Korvon?” Kili asked.

“They would have had plenty of time to deceive you, my prince. Who else, other than you, can vouch for them?”

“I will.” Everyone turned their eyes to Dain. The Lord of the Iron Hills was leaning back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. “I was present during the battle. These two lasses led the elven charge to assist us against the orcs. Vedis there stopped a troll from takin’ my head clean off. I trust them.”

Thorin nodded to his cousin.

“As do I.”

“Lord Rusnig?”

Lord Rusnig was a few years younger than Balin. His snow white hair and wrinkled face showed his age, but his eyes still twinkled like that of a young dwarf lad. He scanned the room.

“Aye. I met these elves on the road, years after we were driven from the mountain. They saved my family from bandits.” He looked at the sisters. “Without them, my wife and children might have perished. For that, I thank you both.”

Oreliell smiled at him while Vedis nodded.

Thorin looked back at Korvon.

“Any other objections, my lord?” he asked.

“My king, even if these two remain on the council, there is no guarantee that the dwarves of Erebor will accept them. Their position on the council and in Erebor would be pointless.”

“Since the battle ended, Vedis and I have been active in the efforts to help,” Oreliell said. “We paid our respects to the fallen and have offered our assistance with the kingdom’s restoration, as well as assisted its people. Our faces are known throughout the mountain. The dwarves of Erebor have suffered enough at the hands of Smaug and Azog. Why would we wish to add on to it?”

Korvon’s glare hardened.

“Men caile.” (translation: /wench\)

“Hold your tongue!” Dwalin growled.

Thorin stood up.

“Lord Korvon, need I remind you that you are replaceable here?” he said. “I am sure that there are many dwarves who would be honored to hold your seat. If you cannot control yourself or have an issue with the decision of your king, then you will be asked to step down so a new dwarf can take your place.”

Korvon at least had the common sense to look ashamed.

“Is there anything else that needed discussed today?” Balin asked. No one said anything. “Very well. We shall continue these discussions during our next session. Good day, everyone.”

The dwarf lords were the first to file out. Lord Rusnig stayed a few extra minutes to give another round of thanks to Oreliell and Vedis before he too left.

When they were gone, Thorin turned to the sisters. The others moved several steps away so that they could speak in private.

“Thank you for being here today,” he said, “and thank you for agreeing to join the council.”

“Of course,” Oreliell replied. “But do you think it was the right choice? Elves on the council of a dwarven realm?”

“It is what I wish,” he said. “I trust you both and value your opinions greatly.” Oreliell gave him a small smile. “Oreliell, I want to-”

The doors to the hall burst open suddenly. Everyone turned to find Nori and Bofur standing there, smiles on their faces.

“They’re here!” Nori exclaimed.

“Who?” Dwalin asked.

“Dwarves from the Blue Mountains!” Bofur said. “They’ll be here in an hour. They sent a raven ahead.”

He handed Thorin the letter. Thorin unfolded it and read the words inside. He couldn’t help but smile. He looked up at Kili as he passed the letter to Balin.

“Your mother is with them,” Thorin said.

Kili’s face lit up.

[lsyd25]

Forsaking all others

Okay, so I was planning on writing something new today to break in my brand new (to me) laptop when I found this absolute gem hiding in my google docs. I wrote it several years ago. Don’t judge and I just want to share it with you all. If you like it amazing. Please like and reblog. If you don’t : keep that shit to yourself. That’s not why I’m posting it. As always you are responsible for the content you consume even if you forget that.

Antonia’s hand trembled as she lifted the bottle to her lips. She blinked back tears trying desperately to hold on to a stoic facade. She scowled at the abnormal sign of weakness. In her world, weakness meant death. She couldn’t afford any faults. Her daughter’s life depended-depends on it. She rolled the empty bottle between her brown hands, needing to do something with all her restless energy. Plucking at her quickly disappearing manicure she ruminated on the circumstances that led her to this moment.

Calling him was an act of desperation, and it was a decision she hadn’t made lightly. But Antonia was alone in the world and she needed help. She’d tried all her contacts, called in every favor. Like it or not, Martel would have to do. This was too important to let her pride get in the way.

So lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t realized that someone had slid into the booth opposite hers until the waitress was plunking down two more bottles. After the young girl had sashayed away followed by a leer from her companion, Antonia cleared her throat to gain his attention. Ignoring the part of her that wanted to bare her fangs to the waitress. He was hers dammit. A small voice whispered in her head. Was. He was but he isn’t any longer.

“Not that I’m not flattered, fangs…but why did you call on me?” Martel murmured, turning back to his seatmate. Antonia took a deep breath and tried to ease the tension out of her shoulders. “Because fae-boy,” she shot back. “I need... a favor.” Martel regarded her silently for a long moment. Antonia could feel the muscles in her back protesting how tightly she held herself, waiting for rejection. His next move surprised her. Martel broke out into full on laughter, chuckles, chortles, and even a guffaw or two made their way out. His laughter brought all eyes to their table. Antonia cringed.

And then she snapped. Reaching across the table with inhuman speed she grabbed the laughing man. “Listen you sparkling freak,” she hissed. “Our daughter is missing and like it or not you are my best bet of finding her. It has been a rough three days and I would like a little bit of cooperation if that is not too much for you.” Throwing him down she sat back in a huff and to her surprise, felt tears gathering. Again. She hadn’t cried so much since she actually died.

Red droplets splashed onto the table and she heard Martel swear under his breath. A warm pale hand reached out and covered hers. Antonia lifted her misery lined face to his serious one. His stony face and stern tone brooked no argument, “I think you’d better start from the beginning.”

In response, Antonia pulled out her phone. Pulling up a photo she slid it across the table. “This is Mirabelle. I call her Mirie for short. She’s yours-ours, I mean.” She watched from lowered lashes as he studied the picture of their daughter with an impassive face. His expression never changed but his eyes. Oh God they almost broke her resolve.

“How old is she?”He asked, his eyes devouring the picture in front of him. He lifted the phone in a silent query to look at more. She gestured for him to help himself. “Fa-five,” Antonia whispered brokenly.

“I meant to tell you. I-I picked up the phone so many times but…” She hung her head. Their last argument wasn’t really conducive to sharing any kind of news, much less the discovery that she was with child. “And now she’s missing. She’s my whole world and she’s gone and I…” Martel sighed and slid the phone back to her. “ Said is said and what’s done is done.” He shot her a bitter, twisted smile. Antonia shivered. His blue eyes were so cold.

Hopping out of the booth he held a hand out to her. “All we can do is keep moving forward.” Bright golden eyes caught and held royal blue ones. “Forward,” she murmured and took his hand.

“So this is my humble abode,” Antonia announced. Martel looked around nodding approvingly. The small bungalow was deceptively designed with the main bulk of the house being underground. He resisted the urge to make a snarky comment about dirt and vampirism. It was nice and homey with comfortable child friendly furniture and personalized knickknacks artfully tucked into the various nooks and crannies. It was not just a house but a home. Martel felt an odd tug in his chest. He could easily see the bright vivacious child from the photograph in this living space. It wasn’t a space he would have thought of for her mother; however, the statuesque and stylish woman managed to fit in with her current surroundings just fine.

The woman in question had sunk down into a cushy armchair. Threading her hands into her kinky hair she sighed. Martel remembered that hair. It was the first thing that drew him to her, so unlike his pin straight inky locks, Antonia’s hair had a mind of its own. Small, tightly wound curls tumbling over and around each other, her hair was wild and free which was a direct contrast to the rest of her.

The instant he’d seen it he’d wanted to discover if it was as soft as it looked. Sunshine bright eyes reminding him of liquid gold, cat’s eyes he’d mentioned once to his friend Yoien.  Right now, they were big and sleepy and reminded him of the lazy look of them after a long night filled with sweaty and tangled limbs. He firmly shook his head. There wasn’t any time for that. Mirie was missing, and he was a father on a mission. He tossed his hair back.   “Where’s Mirie’s room?” The husky sound drew Antonia back to the present. She got up gracefully from the chair and led the way to a small hallway. “Over here.” She didn’t mention the brokenness in his tone or the rawness of his voice.  Martel was grateful. Stepping into his daughter’s room, he closed his eyes and allowed his other senses full reign. He mostly pulled in flashes of laughter and a joyful innocence that left him yearning for that time he missed out on. There were bits of vampire magic and fledgling fae glamourie mixed in. He wondered if Antonia had recognized the Gift he’d passed down to their child. His child. Martel shoved the thought away and continued analyzing the space. Ah, there it was. Curiosity tinged with fear. It mingled with ancient magic, tainting the atmosphere of the room lightly. Wait a second, Martel frowned. Bemused. The magic was familiar to him but he couldn’t quite place it. Kneeling, he drew upon his core and opened his energy to the magic in the room. Antonia gasped. The room was freezing. Even though she couldn’t experience the cold, she recognized the amount of sheer energy he had to be expelling. It was immense. Martel puckered his brow, just a little more and he would have a name, a name would lead to motive and segue into what, when, and how. Antonia hovered over his still form anxiously praying that his silence meant a breakthrough in finding her child.

She regretted Martel’s pain but she did not regret keeping their daughter a secret. The life of a vampire was hard and lonely. Her existence relied on pain, blood, and, death. The screams and cries of her victims still echoed in her ears. Antonia thought that she would never reconcile herself completely to what she had become.

Then the one thing happened that she never would have expected. Life came from her womb. This brilliant amazing gift that was her daughter was something she cherished everyday. But, her daughter was a rarity among fae and vampire alike and with Martel being who he was…better not to take the risk and hope for the best. To forget what they had shared once upon a time and walk away for good. But with Mirie tethering them together, walking away this second time was going to be impossible. “Dammit!” Antonia gasped at the harsh sound then realized it had come from Martel. She laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Were you not able to See anything then?” She asked. “Yes and no,” his answer was vague and distracted. “It’s being cloaked. Even with that I can tell it's familiar but we are going to have to do a couple of things to get down to the bottom of this. Do you trust me?” Earnest blue eyes peered into hers. Antonia steeled her spine and looked back at him, unwavering. “Yes.” Her voice was clear and solid.

“Tell me again why this plan requires us to be bonded?” Martel sighed and turned on the bed to face the vampire. “After you tell me why we can’t discuss this in the morning like I already asked. I knew I shouldn’t have told you anything. You always overreact.”

Antonia stiffened, offended. “I do not. I just want a little bit of clarification. That’s all.” She prided herself for her well put answer. He’d have no comeback for that. “Well, I want those five years with my child that you stole but since neither one is happening tonight, will you please get some sleep and can we actually discuss this tomorrow like I already asked. Twice!” Antonia’s mouth turned down and she turned away from Martel and scooted towards the edge of the bed. Martel let out a guttural sigh and flopped on his back. That last line had been a pot shot but he really did need sleep.

Tomorrow they’d have to face his parents, that was enough of a chore to do well rested. After another hour of pretending not to hear her sniffle and faking sleep. Martel gave it up as lost and got up intending to head to the bathroom and recollect himself. Once in the hallway, his feet led him in a different direction and he found himself heading back to Mirabelle’s room.

Once there, he didn’t bother turning on the lights. His vision was enough to get by in the darkened room. He wandered around the room slowly, trying to glean as much about his daughter that he could. Before he knew it he was sitting in the dark, beside her bed clutching a photo of her and her mother to his chest crying silent sparkling tears. Sometime after that, Antonia crept in on silent feet and, saying nothing, sat down beside him and gathered him to her. No words passed between them as they quietly grieved for their lost child.

Antonia woke up alone. Blinking crusty eyes she gave a slow yawning stretch, glancing around the room for a clue where her partner in crime had gone. Mentally shrugging she dragged herself to her room to gather the required items for a much needed shower. One hot shower later found her back in her room blearily blotting out her hair. A quiet good morning had her jumping. “Martel! Please don’t do that.” He grinned. “And miss the sight of that lovely chest in that delectable towel. I think not,” he leered at her. She wrinkled her nose. “Ew,” turning around she remarked, stupidly, “You’re wearing robes. Why are you wearing robes?” Smirking, he handed her a wrapped parcel. “For the same reason you’ll be wearing them. It’s time to meet the parents.”  

Antonia smoothed down the robe’s skirts with a trembling hand, watching as Martel came up behind her in the mirror. “Beautiful,” he breathed. “Court dress becomes you. But there is something missing…” he mused. With a flourish he draped a platinum pendant over her head. She immediately tried to lift it off. “This is too much,” she protested. Laying a calming hand over hers, he shook his head. “It’s not enough,” he countered. “You’ve born my heir; they’ll be expecting much more than that paltry medallion. Women like you are to be cherished and protected. To be seen as doing less is a disservice to me and my House. And as we are posing as a soon to be bonded couple we can’t have that, now can we?” With a huff she yanked her hand from underneath his, inwardly cursing the longing for his warmth as she stepped away from his body. “Apparently not,” was her sardonic reply. “Good, hopefully you’ll accept the rest of the set with more grace,” he countered briskly. “Set?” Antonia replied faintly. Martel shot her a mischievous grin that reminded her of their whirlwind romance six years ago. “Set,” he confirmed.

“So let me get this straight, we are going to travel to the Night Court and meet your parents who may or may not have kidnapped my-our child. Hopefully trick them into letting her go and then just ride off into the sunset?” Antonia was nonplussed at Martel’s affirming shrug in reply. “Basically yes,” he said. “Although you might want to let me do most of the talking and for the love of all that is holy and right, do not, I repeat, do not let us get separated. The Night Court owns all creatures of the night and they will gladly keep you if you wander off.” Antonia bristled at the thought of being owned but his next words had her pondering. “The magic that keeps you has to come from somewhere,” Martel pointed out.

He crossed over to her and started nuzzling her cheek and neck, easily capturing her hands when she went to push him off. “Antonia, listen to me.” The serious expression he wore frightened her. What were they getting themselves into? “There are goblins, trolls, shapeshifters, and lesser demons that hang around the court. They’ll be sniffing you like bloodhounds. If you’re not scent marked in any way the jig is up before we’ve even been given an audience.” Antonia sighed. "I understand, I'll be good," she promised. Martel grinned, "Good, let's go."

The throne room was vast, impressive with sweeping arches and tons of gargoyles. That moved. It might have moved her if she wasn't worried about her missing child and super aware of Martel's hand on the small of her back. Creepy night creatures crawled and limped along the shadows. Antonia even spotted a couple of vampires that she recognized and has long thought dead, only they were chained to ethereal and statuesque creatures that could only be members of the high court. Inwardly cringing at the thought of being enslaved to one of these Unseelie creatures, Antonia leaned in a little closer to Martel for comfort. His reassuring touch calmed her somewhat but the niggling feeling of unease still remained.

Fixing her eyes in front, she focused on the ebony throne ahead. It was macabre, all skulls and bones and screaming spirits and it rose toward the vaulted ceiling where a trio of imps cackled in laughter and called out insults to those gathered below. Martel took his hand off of the small of Antonia's back and held out his arm. Together they approached the throne. As they got closer Antonia could see shimmering air on the throne. A man slowly faded into view as they approached. He was tall and broad with smooth ebony skin and the darkest eyes she'd ever seen. If she hadn't sensed the magic in his aura she would have assumed he was an extension of his throne. He studied them for a long moment and when spoke, Antonia shivered a little, because his voice felt like a physical caress on her spine. It felt like smooth silk sheets and dark decadent promises, disturbingly erotic and full of authority. "My son, thou has vowed never again to step foot in this court. What has caused thee to appear before Us and forsake thy vow?"

Antonia's eyes widened in shock, Martel never said a word or acted like this would be such a grave trip. She felt foolish for not having asked and for the assumptions she made. Martel had released her arm and had gone to greet his father properly. They conversed in low tones and she felt the Holly King's knowing eyes on her more than once, she felt herself  blushing at his frank assessment and apprehensive that he might find her wanting. Finally, Martel returned to her side and retook her arm running his hand alongside her forearm in a gesture of comfort. "I will search for your daughter," the Holly King intoned soberly. "If she is in my realm then she will be found." He turned his gaze inward. Antonia found her hand tightening on Martel's arm at the sight of the king's otherworldly vision. " The child Mirabelle is with my beloved." With these words Martel and Antonia found themselves outside of the throne room. Bewildered, Antonia turned to look at a visibly angry Martel. "What did he mean?" She wondered aloud. Through gritted teeth, he responded, "he meant that she is with my mother."

[esamastation]

Breath of the Wild snippet

Link is bored. It's a little startling how easy it's to see – how easy he's to read these days. Where before, hundred years ago, he'd been as unreadable as a brick wall, a look of serious determination as though permanently etched to his face, now he's an open book, covers flung wide. The serious frown still makes an appearance, of course, it's his default expression, Link's face simply rests in a way that makes him seem as though he's almost scowling, but now, should an emotion cross his mind… he does nothing to hide it. 

Like now, as his attention strays and his eyes wander and every so often he smothers a sigh or a yawn or a longing look directed at the door. It's in part painfully and in part endearingly clear how little attention he's paying to their meeting, and how much he wishes he could be elsewhere.

Zelda smothers a smile and then realises she's allowed herself to be distracted, and quickly turns her attention back to the meeting taking place in Impa's house.

"... a little difficult to test," Purah is saying. She's sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor, her seat cushion abandoned and papers flung about her – most of them about her anti-aging rune. "I can't even promise the test subject will survive the process, never mind that it will work even fifty percent of the time... so finding people to volunteer has been an issue."

"What, no old folks interested in regaining their misspent youth?" Robbie asks with a slight snort, adjusting his goggles. "I'd happily test it, if my work wasn't too important to risk!"

Purah gives him a look. "Well, duh. Most folk are the same," she says and shakes her head. "And besides, the population and age statistics don't exactly trend towards the elderly these days. The average life expectancy of both Hylians and Sheikah both trend about forty years younger than it used to be pre-Calamity. And the only way for people to reliably grow old these days –"

"Is to have a family or other support network, helping them," Impa muses, rubbing at her chin. "Which means they have things too dear to lose, for an uncertain chance."

"Just so," Purah says and folds her little arms, adorable in her seriousness. "I did post queries around Hateno village, of course, but I only had a couple of takers, and they all turned tail when I explained the risks. And we can't improve the chances without further testing. And we can't do further testing without candidates. And we're not likely to get more candidates with the chances being what they are - it's a vicious circle." 

By the door, Link looks ready to nod off. 

Zelda hums, looking at the papers Purah had brought, conflicted. It's incredible work, just as a concept, and Purah hadn't just left it at theory – and the results certainly speak for themselves! Purah is now, what, hundred and twenty, hundred and thirty years old? And she looks as though she is a girl of six, with all that time ahead of her and not behind. If the technology could be made reliable, it would no doubt change the future in ways Zelda can scarcely imagine… for the better, she hopes, for all the people of Hyrule.

But right now, she has more selfish reasons to make enquiries into the rune.

Zelda looks at Impa, sitting on top of a pile of pillows, her weathered, aged face thoughtful. Their eyes meet and Zelda steels her resolve. "Might there be any potential candidates in Kakariko village, Impa?" she asks.

"Hmm. I doubt it. Young Zain, maybe?" Impa muses. "Well, he's not so young. He's in his seventies, he has bad knees and no surviving relatives to support or be supported by. Bit of a sour grape, that one, though. Sceptic. Hard to convince."

"I'm sure if the Lost Princess and the Hero who stopped Ganon ask for it, anyone would be happy to give it a go!" Robbie says, slapping his folded knees. "Especially if they learn what it's all for!"

Zelda smiles, wincing, and looks down. Using her standing for such a thing… sure she'd done things of that nature before, pleading people to join their cause, ages ago… but never with the risks so high, and potential results so uncertain. She'd never liked asking people to risk their lives, for her or otherwise. Even with a cause so important...

"It would be a somewhat awkward thing to ask, though," she muses and looks down. "It is an awkward thing to ask. I'm… I'm sorry to have to ask it of you."

After all this time, all these years, all the service they'd already put in, to ask for so much more of them… but she had to. No one woman could rebuild a kingdom by herself. She needed help, she needed allies – she needed Impa and Robbie and Purah. With such a foundation, Hyrule might yet rise, better than ever, but for that to ever happen… Impa and Robbie needed to go through what Purah already had, and extend their already prodigiously long lives even further. They all deserved their quiet retirement, after all the effort they'd put in, but for Hyrule, Zelda would make this cruel request.

"Ha!" Robbie says, striking a pose. "Like I wouldn't do this without being asked! As soon as Purah can improve the odds – no, as soon as we can improve the odds –"

"What's that, you old coot, what do you mean by we?" Purah depends, bouncing to her feet. "If you think I will let you ever into my lab, mister, you're sorely mistaken –!"

"If we work together, combine the efforts of Akkala and Hateno tech labs, we're sure to succeed! With Cherry's incredible computing power and your Stone –"

"Your creepy ancient furnace is getting nowhere near my Guidance Stone!"

Link startles awake at the noise they're making and Zelda smothers a giggle while Impa sighs.

"I will ask Paya to check in on Zain, maybe he will be interested," Impa says and shakes her head. "But it's still a small test study, with only two subjects. I'm sorry, Zelda – as much as I wish to do this, I am with Robbie on this. The chances are too low and I have too much to lose, right now. Paya is nowhere near ready to take over for me here. There needs to be more candidate's, first, and I don't know where we can get them. But," she hums and looks away. "There might be someone who does."

Link yawns and then freezes, finding all of them staring at him. Then, clearly baffled, he points at himself quizzically, and Zelda offers him a smile.

Impa chuckles. "You've been all over Hyrule now, Link – you've traveled farther than probably anyone has in a hundred years. Better than anyone, you know the state of her people. Do you think there is anyone out there who might be interested in Purah's study – in regaining their youth, even at a risk?"

Link scratches the back of his neck thoughtfully and then takes out the Sheikah Slate, opening the map with an easy, well practiced wipe of his fingers over the screen. Zelda leans in, once more amazed – and a little jealous – of how far he'd gotten with it, how full of markers the map is. Hundred years ago, she'd estimated that there might be as many as a dozen sites of ancient Sheikah technology all over Hyrule. Link had discovered over a hundred. They now glow on his map, like glittering blue gems, the Towers and Shrines he'd seen and mastered.

Link zooms in on the map and then puts down three other markers. One in Zora's domain, one in Gerudo Town and last in Lurelin Village. Turning the slate around, he shows the map to everyone.

"Of course," Zelda breathes in realisation. "The Guardians never reached so far, so their populations were never so scattered or scarred. In Zora's domain, in Gerudo Town and in Lurelin, people can grow old peacefully, without fear of attack."

Link makes a face and a wobbling gesture with his hand and then shrugs. Zelda smiles, sadly. "Aside from monsters and other disasters and misfortunes, of course," she agrees. "But without fear of attacks by Guardians, they were allowed to prosper."

"Not the Rito, though?" Robbie asks, his goggles whirting and shifting like the eyes of a gecko as he looks between the map, Link and Zelda. "Or the Gorons?"

Link shrugs, rubbing at his neck.

"Gorons age like rocks, Daruk always said," Zelda muses. "And I suppose with Rito it can be difficult to tell their ages. If we send out invitations to the study, we should include them as well – assuming that the treatment by the rune isn't Sheikah exclusive…?"

Purah rocks back and forth on her feet thoughtfully, almost as though she's about to dance. "I… don't know? I calibrated the first version based on my own physiology, so it might be best to stick to Sheikah and Hylians for a start – but I can't see why it couldn't be adjusted. Gerudo are closer in structure to us than Rito and Gorons, or Zora for that matter. Might be best we start there, when we begin making modifications to include everyone."

"So, begin with Lurelin," Robbie says and nods. "How do we do that?"

"We'll make some posters and Link can zip in and out of Lurelin Village to post them," Purah says and strikes a pose. "It's just a snap for the Sheikah Slate."

Impa hums in agreement. "Best we make advertisements for Kakariko and Hateno as well, and perhaps some of the stables," she muses. "You never know who might take us up on it, and getting this technology to work at hundred percent will be a benefit to everyone."

"You're right," Zelda agrees, nodding. "Purah and Robbie, I suppose you two know best what should go on the poster. Can you make it?"

"It'll work much better, with your name under it," Robbie points out.

"We'll write a draft and you can copy it and put your royal touch and seal to it," Purah says and does an excited little dance. "This is so exciting! We'll get so many applicants and my little Guidance Stone will get to do it's thing!"

Zelda offers her a smile, all the while wondering, not for the first time… how much of a royal she even is, at this point. With the castle in ruins and the Kingdom in shambles, with no one to rule it for a hundred years… all that Zelda is now... is a story. The Princess that went to fight Calamity Ganon as the Kingdom fell asunder all around her. Not many even believe it. That might change with this meeting and the following cooperation, especially when they'd begin reaching out further, but right now… 

Princess of nothing indeed.

"So much was lost," Zelda murmurs, carefully resting her hands in her lap to keep herself from wringing them. She shouldn't concentrate on the losses. Not when there's so much to do. "It will be good to build something for a change. To improve things."

"Indeed," Impa says, nodding her head, her heavy hat tilting. "But if Calamity Ganon taught us anything, it is that we should take all due caution."

"Yes. And speaking of which," Zelda says and lifts her eyes to Robbie. "Your research in Akkala – I would very much like to hear more about it. Link showed me the armour and weaponry you made, they're very impressive – how did you manage it?"

Robbie all but launches himself into the story of Akkala Ancient Tech Lab, the research he'd done there, the progress he'd made, enthusiastically recounting the creation of his Ancient Furnace, Cherry. Zelda leans in, allowing herself to be drawn in, and by the door Link settles down with a sigh and begins nodding off again.

-

Hmm hmm. Took me 3 years, but I finally finished botw.

I might continue this one and it might end up a Stargate crossover. Who knows.

[muffindaddystyles]

Please write more of Dove and Harry ? You’d earlier written in ne where she gets lost and Harry can’t find her…. Please some more like that. I really like reading protective Harry for his kids especially daughters!

HARRY HATES A CERATIN PINK BICYCLE BUT DOVE THINKS OTHERWISE :D

Harry has never been this stingy towards things. You don’t hold a beef with stuff round you, right? You hold beefs with actual hell of people who're mighty pests in the name of human being.

But, this. Oh damn this. Four wheeler little pink bicycle, that have sparkling pom-poms around it’s handles, a cute yellow basket corked to it's front and rainbow coloured cups hanging from the back of it’s seat that cackles whenever the wheels roll.

It’s the most obnoxious transporting vehicle, Harry had seen in his whole life. He's kind of grousing in the corner that why out of trillion of toys auntie Gemma had to prove herself the best aunt in the whole world alive and chose this hideous gaggingly pink bicycle.

It just doesn’t makes sense to gift it to a three years old! And when that three years old’s a headstrong little thing, with wilfulness of her daddy and the marbles of kitten in replacement of those eyes.

“Daddy we’ll ‘ve fun, promise!” Her ‘r' vanishes into a whistle since she’s still wary onto speaking huge words, babbling her daddy’s ears off with random shite doesn’t count.

Sometimes Harry thinks; that his 50 years old mum's prisoned and captured into a dainty body of three years old -- and his time has come to get bossed around and scolded for his own good sake.

His mommy in the guise of his little dove.

“How’s tha’ missy!?” Harry squints down at her with his hands fisted on his hips. His fake scowl breaks into a fluttery smile when dove with her grubby pudgy hands pushed the bicycle around, her boot clad feet stomping against the hardwood floor, “Like this daddy!” Her chest heaved from getting tired of pushing it around in circles.

“Y'gonna put y’old man to labour?” When she sees her dad’s strictness resolving into contemplating the idea she squeals out giggles making Harry flinch and cover his ears, He’s sure he’ll end up deaf in his fifties.

Harry feels his chest warm and gooey with fond when she jumps on her tippy toes and wraps herself around Harry’s calves.

“Kay, teddy bear enough of butterin’ dada up.” Harry grunted through his nose ducking down to scoop her up in his embrace and she instantly loops her arms around his neck, her button rosy nose twitching with happiness as she patted his cheek with a toothy grin.

Harry shook his head at her brains, his eyes closed and lips thinned while he tries to announce it to her in the most dramatic way.

“Why’re you the way you’re dovie? He sighs and her response doesn’t baffles him any, “’Cos you.” She whispers into his ear as if it’s the most secretive thing in the world getting his cheek and earlobe wet with her drool.

“Yeah, cos' ‘m your inventor. My bad.”

.

That’s how they ended up here in the living room since Harry’s still hesitant and scared to let her ride the bicycle outside.

She makes sweet and loud kissy noises dangling her feet in a rhythm messing the already bombed up curls of Harry while he puts protection pads around her knees, he leaned more onto his shins adjusting the strap of her helmet and pinched her chin to make her look at him.

“Hello baby –..,” He opened his mouth to give her instructions when she cut him off with a cute whiny huff and the fold of her arms round her small body, “Daddy ‘m no baby.” Harry rolls his eyes towards the ceiling and bats his lashes.

“F'me you’re.” He tuts with a coo and took her wrist gently to help her slide down the sofa before she could possibly terrorise him more, sometimes Harry has this aching urge to laugh at her statements but it’s not right to his lil bean so he does it when he’s alone to not to hurt her feelings.

She refused any kind of guidance from him with just a single gesture of her palm (he doesn't know how she manages to behave like a 30 at her 3) and he ended up helping her wiggle her bum up the seat anyhow, “Hmm. Y'already know the deal dovlin'.” He knocks on her pink helmet which has tiny cows on it.

She bobbed her head and puckered her lips, Harry being her best telepathic communicator gets the sign and forwards his cheek for her to kiss it.

“Love y'daddy.” Her affection for her dad muffling against his stubble and in droopy voice he mimics her with bright teasing eyes, “wuveee you daddy.”

“Back to work!” Harry commanded moving towards the end of cycle and squeezed her neck tenderly before pushing her around and giggles happily when she squealed out in utter thrill.

“Weeeeeeoiiii!!” Harry joins her putting aside the fact he was very against it moments ago, but the little fun does no harm, right? He did think so.

It has always happened to him in this particular order whenever the things gets into their happy track a downfall is always written for them, just like the time when dove got sick and wouldn’t get any better taking her to hospital got crucial only for them to come back to their family being there for them her grandma and auntie Gems were their to get her recover but she got sick again.

“Alone!” She grumbles trying to move Harry’s hands away but he grips it tighter, “’M big!” She complains feet reaching for the paddles that took a swing.

“Hands on handles!” Not in a mood for her to throw a tantrum after such exhilarating moment Harry dismissed her off with a bit of frown, “Hands on handles! Hands —--,” He shouts anxiously heartbeat racing painfully against his ribs and he feels time slowing down as he watches dove losing her balance – but – puffs out in relief when she thumps against the sofa.

“Shit!” He cries out when the cycle tumbles along dove and falls on her, the poor baby didn’t even got time to process what's happening before the metal basket hits her bottom lip and her elbow hard.

Harry’s fear reeling infront of him, deafening him for a moment.

Immediately, He throws it away from over her half assed about where it lands and bunched her in his arms protectively. Cradling his sweet baby’s face in his palm and his eyes watered up at the bleeding lip and more abrasions on her elbow.

He sucks in a whimper when she tries even not to sniffle being a brave girl for her dad and goes to wipe his tears with her trembling lil hands, “It’s otay daddy.” Harry hiccups into her wrist smacking kisses upon kisses into her palm.

“’M sorry me lil dovlin'.” He sulked wiping his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie and kissed her forehead.

It physically pains him to see his Dovie hurt, it makes him sad till long hours.

Call him sensitive but with Dove he’ll never able to hold his tears back, she pulls onto his heart strings the most agonisingly, she comes before anyone else and her safety too.

“No cry.” She pushed him away and pouted leaning to peck his lips and Harry giggles when she wipes the subtle blood stain she got on his mouth with a sheepish smile, “Lets fix your boo boos honey pot.” Harry gave her a weepy smile and pet her head taking them to his room.

He’s really surprised and well very proud that she was so brave for him, in times like these Harry realises if nobody got him his daughter’s gonna be there for him always.

“’M really reallyyyy proud of you sweet pea.” After putting Dove's favourite rapunzel bandages on her gashes Harry showers her in kisses that are loud and exaggerated but full of pride and love for her, making sure to do ‘mwah!’ at each one.

.

Harry made her chicken nuggies and let her drink orange juice (even though it gives her an achy throat) she’s such a good little briber.

She’s all snuggled in his bed, her face hidden in his chest out of shyness as Anne asks about her accident with a sad pouty smile.

“You gotta be careful next time okay sweetie?” Anne told her. Harry groans when her head perked up with gleam in her eyes, “There’s no next time!” He quips making his point clear.

“Gran’ma you wan’ see?” She blubbers excitedly crawling out from under the covers but carefully Harry catches her ankle and tugs her back towards him which causes the phone to fall from her hands onto the floor.

The clumsy cutie.

“Oh Grandma, you otay????” Her curly head pops from over the mattress and the room fills with laughter at her innocence and dumbness, she's just three, you prick.

“My silly little bear.” Harry’s laugh fades into giggles while he settles her bum on his chest and cuddles her tightly into his neck despite of her whiny protests and squiggles to let her free.

[frustrated-writer-skyeknight]

HiJack AU - Rise of the Guardians Plotbunnies

(Context: Before Hiccup returns to HQ when the Guardian signal came up, he was spending time with Jack, as per usual. When the signal came up, he had to go. Jack looked disappointed, because Hiccup had just arrived a bare ten minutes ago. It was the quickest the Aide of Hope had to leave. Hiccup was in a rush to leave, since it was the first time in a long time that the urgent signal was put up to assemble all guardians at the same time, the last time was to report about what had happened to Kozmotis. In his rush, he wasn't thinking, and accidentally kissed Jack on the cheek in a parting kiss.

They were both shock.

Before Jack could collect himself to make a respond, Hiccup dashed off, all the while thinking "Shit shit shit shit shit what did I just DO?!)

More details added to the Answer (an ask from @hamish-fanfic-fangirl )already mentioned here

The Guardians love children, as they are the Guardians of Childhood. They can't, however, have children. With the exception of Kozmotis and Anastasia's relationship, as they were created together at the same time by Manny.

Manny formed Pitch to safeguard chaos energy that would strike fears in children and leave them traumatize, impeding a healthy and happy development of growing up. Anastasia was formed at the same time, because children, and to an extent people, need to live in a harmonize environment, right?

The Guardians do consider themselves, as what humans coined nowadays, as 'Found family.' Addition to that, they think if they could have kids, they would be like and be treated like their aides.

They joke about it sometimes; North fits the role of a dad, as leader of the Guardians, Thiana being like the mother, with Aster, Sandy, and Kozmotis like uncles. Sandy's the "cool" uncle with a lot of stories to tell (or show). Kozmotis is the "chill" uncle who leaves you be but offers sage wisdom whether or not you ask for them. Aster is the one who nags a lot, sometimes more than the parents but is exciting to spend time with because of all his cool tricks.

Jamie and Astrid found it awkward, but Thiana was being playful and pretending to be like a parent and giving Jamie 'the shovel talk', when Astrid and Jamie got together, as she heard a story told to her by North, from Jim.

She was sweet about it though, going on about how they should be caring of each other and how lovely it all was so Jim made a remark later that he didn't think the guardian of memories got the point of a 'Shovel talk'

Even to the aides that aren't their own, the Guardians do feel rather paternal/maternal towards them.

Dialogue

North: Sandy, thank you for coming.

Sandy descends from the plane and floats to the ground. He joins North, Bunny and Tooth as they walk through the Globe Room. Sand glyphs appear above Sandy's head communicating

Jamie: He says that he is busy and has a lot of work to do.

North: I understand, you work ‘round the clock, da, But I obviously wouldn't have called you all here unless it was serious.

North, Bunny, Tooth and Sandy reach the center of the room. Tooth does her best to shush her mini-fairies.

North: Kozmotis as the Boogeyman was here at the Pole. *points to the globe. The everyone turns to look.*

Astrid: *shocked* Sir Kozmotis? Here? After all this time...

Jamie: Jim, did you really see...

Jim: Well, I didn't but sir North had. I think, I... Wait. *frowning as he looked around in concern* Where's Dimitri?

Tooth: But... Pitch Black? Was it really him?

North: Yes! There was black sand covering the globe.

Aster: What, what...what do you mean black sand?

North: And then a shadow!                                                

Aster: Hold on, hold on, I thought you said you saw Pitch.

North: Well, ah, not exactly...

Aster: Not exactly? Can you believe this guy?

Bunny turns to Sandy, who shrugs while forming a Dreamsand question mark above his head....

Aster: Yeah, you said it, Sandy.

Bunny goes back to painting one of his Easter eggs.

North: Look, he is up to something very bad. *gropes his gut* I feel it, in my belly.

Aster: *eyes narrow* Hang on, hang on, you mean to say, you summoned me here THREE DAYS BEFORE EASTER - because of your? Mate, if I did this to you three days before Christmas-

Tooth (to her fairies): Argentina. Priority alert! A batch of bicuspids in Buenos Aires.  Weather advisory, Astrid?

Astrid: *Pauses* Fair, all of them. Snowstorm warning in Moscow.

Jamie: Maybe that's where Jack is now.

Jim: And maybe Hic too; would explain why he's running late... Now Dimitri...           

North grabs Bunny's painted egg, casually juggling it in his          hand as he walks off. Meanwhile Sandy, who is being served          eggnog by a yeti, suddenly notices something high above.         

North: Please. Bunny. Easter is not Christmas.

Aster: *sarcastic laugh* Here we go... North, I, I don't have time for           this. I've still got two million eggs to finish up.

The moon rises into view, high up in the ceiling; its rays of light begin to shine brightly through as they cascade down the walls of the globe room.

North: No matter how much you paint, is still egg!

Sandy points to the moon unsuccessfully to get the others' attention. Even Jamie is distracted with Jim and Astrid, talking about whether one of them (Jim) should go and get Dimitri. Their guardians are distracted and they didn't want to interrupt them...

Aster: Look, mate, I'm dealing with perishables. Right. You've got all year to prepare.                                                

Tooth (to her fairies): Pittsburg, boy eight, two molars. Saltwater taffy.

Sandy puts his fingers in his mouth to whistle, a silent musical note forming above his head.                                                

North (to Aster): Why are rabbits always so nervous.

Aster: And why are you always such a blowhard!                                  

Tooth (to her fairies): Ontario, sector nine: five canines, two molars, and fourteen incisors. Is that all in one house?

Sandy waves a sand flag above his head, pointing and jumping and down as the moonlight continues to fill the room.

North: Tooth! Can't you see we're trying to argue.

Tooth: *Good naturedly* Sorry, not all of us get to work one night a year. Am I right, Sandy?

Sandy tries to signal with a golden arrow, pointing toward the ceiling, but to no avail as the others continue their bickering. Sandy thinks Tooth has noticed for a split second, but then-    

Tooth (to her fairies): San Diego, sector two! Five incisors, a bicuspid and a really loose molar on stand-by.

North: I know it was him. We have serious situation!

Aster: Well, I've got a serious situation with some eggs.

Tooth: Hey, I hate to interrupt the, "We work so hard once a year club" but could we concentrate on the matter-

A silhouette comes out from a black spot of a shadow in the middle of the room, and Dimitri comes up and stumbles out from it. The aide of the former Guardian of Chaos seemed recovering from injuries. Even with his quick healing, it's taking some time...

Jim: Dimitri!

Jim rushes to help support him...

Tooth: Oh dear!

Astrid: Is he okay?

Dimitri: Sorry... The darkness is more restless than ever for some reasons. I had to defeat about a dozen minions before securing and leaving the base.

Jim: Wha- so if Pitch is really back, why hadn't he showed up here yet?

North: He did lad!

Jim: All due respect sir, you said it was a shadow.

North: Shadows are his thing!

Dimitri: I don't think that was Pitch yet, but a harbinger, maybe? If he had awoken, I think I would be the first to know.

Aster: Hah!

Sandy can't take it anymore, grabs an elf by his hat, and vigorously shakes it's bell. The other Guardians are finally silenced and all turn to look at Sandy, who points up, a sand crescent moon forming above his head. The dizzy elf staggers away. Finally the others turn to see the shaft of moonlight as it concentrates on the circle between them as Manny starts beaming down into the room...

North: Aah! Man in Moon! Sandy, why didn't you say something?

Sandy gives him a deadpan stare, Dream sand smoke shoots out his ears.                                                

North (to Man in Moon as he finally appears, with Anastasia by his side) : It's been a long time old friend! Madam Mother Nature *bows curtly*

Manny: Likewise.

Anastasia: A pleasure as always, North.

North: So... What is big news?

Manny: Before I get that, there is one thing I need to address first...

Everyone looks to the center of the room where Manny manipulates moonlight to shine down intensely, the light ebbs away, leaving a dark spot ---- which resolves into the shadowed silhouette of Pitch. The Guardians look on, stunned.                                                

Aster: It is Pitch.                                  

North pats his belly and gives Bunny a look...

North: Manny... what must we do?

Manny: The matter I mentioned needing to be addressed...

The shadow of Pitch disappears and the circle of moonlight intensifies and shrinks, concentrating further luminating an ornate symbol on the floor, at the center of their circle. The symbol rises out of the ground revealing a large gem at the head of a pillar.                                                

Tooth: Ah, guys, you know what this means?

The moons light suddenly refracts through the gem casting          light all over the chamber.                                                

North: He's choosing an aide for himself.

Aster: What?! You never needed one before, why now?

North: Must be big deal! Manny thinks we all need help!

Aster: We have our help. *Gestures to all aides present* Now if my own would show up too...                                               

Tooth: I wonder who it's gonna be?

Then a bright flash, a rush of wind- and a FIGURE resolves over the central pillar: slight, hooded, bearing a familiar  hooked staff.                                                

North:

North: Jack Frost.

The Mini-Teeth all sigh and swoon as the Guardians stand there, stunned.                                                

Jim: Well then, at least Hiccup's going to be happy

Astrid: *Shrugs, and idly shifts her axe from one hand to another* Well, as long as he does his part in caring for the children…

Tooth: And Hiccup’s going to be motivated more than ever now too.

Aster: Jack Frost!? He doesn't care about children! All he does is freeze water pipes and mess with my egg hunts. Right? He's an irresponsible, selfish...                                                

Manny: Aide.                            

Aster: I can tell you that Jack Frost is a lot of things, but he's--

Hiccup finally flies in with Toothless

Hiccup: I'm sorry I'm late! *He jumps down from Toothless* Snow storm in Moscow delayed me... Er, among other things...

Everyone looks at him

North: Perfect timing Hiccup! We need you to find Jack and bring him here.

Hiccup, remembering his final moments with Jack before leaving, looked mortified...

Hiccup: Do you guys hate me or something?

[mimik-u]

Archive

Summary: As a part of the extensive process for documenting the war, Pearl and Blue Diamond prepare to have a conversation about Pink.

Prompt: One of the Diamonds interacts with a Pearl (either “our” Pearl, our “their” Pearl) post-CYM

Note: My gift to @runrundoyourstuff​ for our holiday gift exchange. Dani, your writing always inspires me—I’m always looking to it for your complex understanding of characters, your depth, and the beautiful way you have with words (always so thoughtful, even to the syllable). Thank you for all the wonderful conversations that we have. I’m so lucky to have you in my life!! And please check out her gift to me—Seasons! I’m so excited to read it, too!!!!

AO3 Link

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“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Steven reminds her for the fifteenth time since he woke up this morning and bounded down from the loft to interrupt her daily newspaper reading. He’s sitting on the corner of her desk in Little Homeschool now, one of his jacket sleeves scrunched up at the elbow and the other rolled down, leveling her a serious look beneath his bushy brow, mouth pressed into a thin line.

It strikes Pearl suddenly, and for no readily available reason, that her little boy has grown up somewhere in the space and span of two measly years.

Soon, if he keeps growing, he’ll be even taller than she is.

“Yes, you’ve made sure I’m aware of that,” she returns wryly, absently reshuffling her notes again. They’re half-English, half-gem glyph in a shorthand that only she understands, alternating languages from line to line depending on when glyphs were not sufficient enough to capture all those once-foreign concepts to gemkind: love, romance, the depths of sacrifice. Gems didn’t need symbols to encode for these complex sensations, even if they felt them, and perhaps especially if they did.

It was scary to love someone on Homeworld.

It was terrifying to love them so powerfully that you would risk your very gem for them.

Traitors were duly punished.

Survivors were rare in Era One.

(Garnet can attest to that.)

“I’m just sayin’,” he protests playfully, sounding rather like Amethyst, and even resembling her when he raises both of his palms in mock surrender. “I know this project is important and all, but it’s not as important as me knowing that you’re comfortable…”

Pearl places her papers down and straightens them neatly, all the while feeling the force of Steven’s expectant gaze.

The strength of his love.

It warms her all over.

It colors her pale face.

But when she finally glances up at him, even though her cheeks are assuredly pink, she keeps her voice and resolve firm.

(Though she’ll never say this to him, not now, not anymore—never again—he reminds her so much of his mother sometimes.)

(His kindness, his warmth, his goodness.)

(Because Rose wasn’t all bad—not really. Not to her, at least.)

“I’m fine, Steven,” she reassures him. “I promise. I wouldn’t have agreed in the first place if I wasn’t. This isn’t the first time I’ve done one of these recordings, and it won’t be the last either.”

“But never about… this, you know”—he makes a vague pointing gesture with his hand, struggling for the right words—“and never with a Diamond.”

He says the word Diamond nervously, like it’s one of the expletives that Amethyst has gotten more comfortable in dropping now that Steven is a bonafide teenager, and he’s simply waiting to see Pearl’s response, how she’ll react.

She certainly did give Amethyst one hell of a scolding the other day.

“This is history,” she returns quietly. “It’s painful history, yes… but that can’t be helped.”

“But it can!” He argues pointedly, his eyes wide and incredulous, his voice scratched around its strained edges. “You don’t have to share the things that have hurt you for the entire galaxy to see, Pearl. That isn’t what this is all about.”

“But I want to.” And there’s a sense of finality in her tone that closes a mouth that had already been half-wrenched open in preemptive protest. Pearl takes the opportunity to reach over then and place a hand on Steven’s jean-enclosed knee, smiling gently. “Of course, there are a couple of details I’ll keep to myself—keep between you and me—but for the most part, I’m ready to tell this part of the story. Indeed, I think it’s essential that I do.”

“For archival purposes?” Steven asks dryly, resignation in his voice, a little teenage petulance, too.

Pearl pats his knee once, laughs lightly, and then withdraws her hand.

“For closure,” she says simply, but then, because she knows it’s not enough for him, and she wants it to be enough for him, elaborates. Explains. (It isn’t quite justification, though.) “Two years ago, I was bound by your mother’s final command to never talk about what we did. And most of the time, I didn’t want to… I don’t think I could have forced myself to even if I tried. As you got older, though, as you learned more about your mother and all of her many… complexities…  as you began to have questions—so many important questions—I knew I needed to but couldn’t. And now…”

“You have a choice,” Steven finishes for her, realization washing across his face, unbending the protective sharpness in it.

“Exactly,” she nods approvingly, “and so I’ve thought about it… I’ve weighed everything out carefully… and I’ve come to the conclusion that this is what I want—to claim our history… even  though it’s painful, even if it still hurts. I’ve had trouble doing that before, even with secrets in my own volition, and I don’t want… I refuse to let that be me anymore, Steven. I don’t want to live with thousands-year old ghosts anymore.”

Though his brow remains furrowed, though there’s something in the dark of his eyes that remains a little unsure, Steven nonetheless blinks to show that he’s heard her and nods solemnly to indicate that he understands.

It’s a simple gesture.

It means a lot.

And she smiles at him in radiant, weary relief.

A few months ago, Homeworld and Little Homeschool scholars had a conference to determine how best to record, preserve, and proliferate the history of the war, and all the events that resulted in Era Three. There are extensive gaps in Homeworld’s own archives, which had been scrubbed free of mentions of it in obedience to Yellow Diamond’s commands, and Little Homeschool, of course, being relatively new, doesn’t have an archive so much as it has a file cabinet in Pearl’s office that’s at the very least meticulously alphabetized. And so, they decided upon creating a universally accessible Archive, a series of recordings and documents and interviews delivered by gems and humans from both sides of the war, giving accounts of all that has happened in six thousand elapsed years.

Most of the Crystal Gems have done several recordings.

Garnet, Bismuth, and Pearl did one just last week on the Battle of the Ziggurat.

Biggs and a few other defected Homeworld soldiers have covered some of the minor battles.

Yellow and Blue Pearl have recorded a few on what it was like to be in the palace during the war.

And even the Diamonds themselves have proffered their perspectives whenever they’ve had the time.

Because the scholars emphasized early on that it was essential for all sides of the story to be brought to the table in order for the universe to get the fullest canvas of what it meant that Pink Diamond started a war that her half-human son would one day finish.

The minutiae of Homeworld politics.

All of the many battles.

The rebellion.

The beauty of Earth.

The aching desolation of Homeworld after the faked shattering.

Gems’ encounters with humans.

Humans’ encounters with gems.

The casualties.

The grief.

And what that does to a gem—to hold her comrade’s shards in her hands.

What it does to people.

The various townies have given their accounts of what it was like to live through alien invasion after alien invasion, to see their beloved Beach City upended so many times, right before their eyes.

War.

“When does it start?” Steven asks in a would-be-casual voice, straightening up from her desk and stretching his arms over his head before pulling them back down again. With a meticulousness she fancies he inherited from her, he finally fixes his sleeves, dragging the cuff of his left arm to perfectly match the length of the other.

“In ten minutes,” she replies.

“Do you want me to stay?” Lines crease his eyes even as he offers it. “I can if you need me to.”

He glances at the still dormant Holo-Crystal on the desk and just as quickly glances away, finding her face.

Searching her own gaze, even at the very moment she searches his, the both of them looking for something to be concerned about and unfailingly finding love.

Pearl knows for a fact that he doesn’t want to listen, that he’d rather not hear the sordid story all over again.

He’s seen it.

Goodness, he’s half-lived it through the mire of her own head.

But she also knows that if she asked him to, he would do it.

Just for her.

He’s selfless like that.

He’s Steven.

“Go,” she smiles softly at him, leaning back in her chair. “Get out of here. If you and Amethyst will grab the stuff from the store, I’ll make cookies for dessert tonight.”

Steven returns the gesture crookedly, and the relief in his eyes is almost mistakable for excitement.

“Chocolate chip?” His voice young, almost childlike.

“Do you even need to ask?” Her voice fond, always motherly.

“Thanks, Pearl!” He chuckles. He half-skips. He snatches his car keys from the desk and all but slaps the door handle. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He winks his final goodbye, twists the knob and in a brief flash of golden sunlight, disappears into the day. The door clicks to a merry close behind the shuffle and haste of his heels.

And Pearl is left alone, hands templed delicately in her lap, staring at a deadened Holo-Crystal that’s lying almost forlornly on its side. 

Her smile slips away from her mouth like falling sand the moment she thinks she’s safe.

She shuffles her papers again.

She stares, very quietly, at the crystal.

She looks, just as pointedly, away.

Occupies herself by touching her notes again, raking her fingers over all the words that give a form to the one secret she had kept to herself for thousands upon thousands of years—not entirely out of her own will.

She wasn’t lying to Steven when she said that she wanted to do this.

She was lying about the fact that she was fine to do it.

Somehow, in the tangle of her own head, it makes sense to her that these sensations are not mutually exclusive. It’s perfectly compatible to want to do something that’s scary and still feel intensely scared about doing it.

Fear doesn’t stop at the threshold of a made decision. 

After all, if fear had ever stopped her from doing what she wanted, then she would have never loved Rose Quartz.

So she stares at the Holo-Crystal, and then she emphatically doesn’t.

Tries to distract herself.

(Eight minutes til…. seven.)

Fails. 

Abruptly gets out of her chair, a sudden restlessness in her lanky limbs, and begins to pace the floor, sunlight from the nearby window dusting her skin gold in square patches, in slivers. When only one minute remains, and the Holo-Crystal suddenly glows a bright, electric blue as a warning alert to a scheduled call, she throws herself back into the chair as forcibly as possible and tries to arrange her face into an expression that’s just as equally cool.

Focused.

Put together.

Fifty seconds…

She pushes a hand through her hair and hates herself for doing so; assuredly, she just ruffled it, and now her hair will be a rumpled mess on a hologram for time immemorial.

Thirty seconds…

What in stars’ name does she do with her hands? Arrange them on the desk? Temple them on her lap? Place them stiffly by her sides? She settles for some awkward combination of the three—templing them on the smooth surface of her desk with her elbows at stiff angles.

It’s highly uncomfortable.

Twenty seconds…

She could bail now, and Steven wouldn’t think the worse of her for it. She’d join him at the beach house after he returned from the grocery store, and he’d help her make the cookie dough and never say a word as to her cowardice. Perhaps he would even be relieved that she decided not to go through with her intentions in the first place. After all, they weren’t strictly necessary… that was one of his arguments even… someone else could do it… could tell her story… and it would all be the same.

Ten seconds…

But she wouldn’t be relieved.

She wouldn’t be proud of herself.

She could live with herself, yes, but she wouldn’t be able to forget that when the opportunity came to speak her truth freely, she refused to, denying a voice that had already been long denied.

So many times over.

From the very first moment she emerged into the world as a gem whose highest and only pleasure was to serve.

Five seconds… the Holo-Crystal begins to blink rapidly, throwing its frenetic hues in quick pulses across her desk.

And so she has to do this then.

Four seconds…

She wants to.

Three seconds…

It’s her narrative and no one else’s.

Two seconds…

Not even Rose’s.

One second…

Maybe especially not hers, even if she isn’t ready to admit that yet, to face that raw fact.

In a diamond shaped burst of energy, the Holo-Crystal throws its projection upwards with a series of gem glyphs that she reads with both trepidation and ease: ACCEPT FEED? YES OR NO?

Breaking the solemn temple of her fingers, swallowing her electric, jangling nerves, Pearl, against all her better judgment, presses yes, and the glyphs fall away, replaced by a live portrait of a gem who somehow looks exactly like Pearl feels. 

Arctic eyes wide.

Charcoaled beneath with thousands of years worth of shadows.

Brow furrowed with indecision.

With hesitancy.

With all the indelicate trappings of fear.

“Blue Diamond,” Pearl greets coolly, jerking her head in a stiff nod. Somewhere deep in her gem, an odd impulse to salute pulls at her facets.

“Pearl,” the Diamond returns softly, almost wonderingly—as though the name is unfamiliar on her tongue. In a way, it likely is. The Diamonds once viewed the Pearls as objects as opposed to gems and referred to them in such a way.

The Pearls.

Our Pearls.

They were interchangeable.

They were possessions.

In the Reef, they even came with accessories: staffs and wands and batons.

“Thank you for consenting to do this,” Pearl continues in that same clipped but professional tone. “I think this will be an important entry in the Archive.”

“Aye,” comes the quiet reply, thoughtful. “Yellow and White don’t quite understand it entirely yet, but there is rationality in this—in proffering the fullest account of our history for anyone to access it if they so choose. It’s about preserving her… all of our legacies—the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

Pearl is suddenly reminded that of the three remaining Diamonds, Blue was the one who upheld the human zoo, who perceived it as a relic and immortalized it as such.

Steven had told her about all of those bubbled Rose Quartzes.

Dozens of them.

Hundreds.

Made to cover the illusion of Rose’s identity.

Punished for a crime that they didn’t perpetrate. 

Perfectly preserved in stasis and purgatory for thousands of aching years.

“And so often the ugly,” Pearl emphasizes scathingly, and it’s a condemnation of them all—of Rose for making the Quartzes, of Pearl for being complicit, of Blue Diamond for imprisoning them and calling it mercy.

“Yes,” Blue agrees faintly, new lines forming beneath her eyes. “We did some terrible things…”

Her demureness and her honesty irritate Pearl for some reason—perhaps because she didn’t expect them, or perhaps because she very well did and still finds that they ring false, insincere, affected. How could they not in the face of millennia worth of cruelty and injustice? How can two years of positive growth overturn the effects of two hundred thousand?

Perhaps it’s simply that she believes in action as correctives and atonements.

Perhaps she doesn’t trust mere words, even though this is what this entire event is all about in the end—mere words. 

Perhaps she wants to see it in Blue Diamond’s eyes for herself—the change in them, the repentance.

And perhaps, at the very same time, she doesn’t want to look too closely in case she finds precisely what she’s looking for.

“Yes,” she repeats primly. “You did, and today is about looking backwards to that, about assessing all the things we did and didn’t do—on both sides of the war.”

Blue Diamond absorbs this all quietly, looking downwards, strands of silvery-blue hair falling from her neat parting and across her tall forehead.

“How exactly do we do that?” She asks. “Where do we even begin?”

Admittedly, they’re both excellent questions, and now it’s Pearl’s turn to glance down, to recognize the scrawl of all her neatly organized notes and suddenly realize that they feel insufficient for the task at hand, bare.

The word love crops up so many times, but nothing is said about the overwhelming force of that love—the all-consuming dimensions of it.

How Pearl would have been content to stay in Rose’s presence forever, and that alone would have been enough.

And how complicated that same love was.

How it was sometimes tangled in programming and servitude.

And how at other times, it was dangerous, bold, revolutionary, transcendent.

And how it hurt sometimes.

Perhaps even all the time.

Love so deep that it felt like pain.

Even English doesn’t have the capacity to describe those complexities of emotion.

Even language itself.

“Well,” she begins hesitantly, before she has all of her words in order, “when I press record… we simply have to… you know… talk about it, about everything that led up to the Corruption Song, sparing no detail.”

“Simple, is it?” Blue Diamond asks quietly, and there is slight admonishment in the question, ancient sadness in her geometric eyes, in all the lines and shadows beneath them.

“No,” Pearl replies, glancing away from the screen. “Not at all.”

Loving Pink Diamond was so many things.

It was not, in fact, simple.

“But it’s important,” she continues, her voice gaining strength, “maybe even necessary for us to at least try to tell our stories as fully as we can because she never felt like she could tell her own.”

“That must have been so lonely for her,” Blue whispers, anguished, the words half-caught in her throat.

Pearl forces herself to look at the diamond portrait again.

To search the other’s expression.

To acknowledge the truth in it.

The love.

The pain.

The love that feels so much like pain.

“It was, I think,” Pearl murmurs. “She wanted to be everyone else but herself—on that day. On all the days afterwards as we recovered the shards of our companions, as we had to fight their corrupted selves. Maybe even until the very end when she became Steven.”

And this, she thinks, is the fundamental truth of Rose Quartz above all, one she doesn’t think she’ll share with the rest of the universe, one she thinks will keep between herself and Steven and now… Blue Diamond.

Rose loved the entire world.

She was moved by it. Endlessly.

She loathed herself.

And seemingly the entire world—Pearl included—pedestalized her.

“We did that to her,” Blue says, and there’s venom in her voice, an air of admission. She brings her tall hands upwards and spiders them across her face. “We… I… never told her that she was good enough. I required her facets to be perfect and scolded her—punished her—every time she so much as toed our harsh lines.”

“You never told her that you loved her,” Pearl says, and there’s solemnity in her voice, an air of accusation. She clenches her own hands on top of the surface of her notes.

Glyphs interspersed with words.

Pain.

Love.

Grief.

“And when you finally showed that you did,” Pearl continues, closing her eyes at the memory of a world being swallowed in white light, of a sky being rent by the echoes of so many thousands of gems screaming to the same tune of the Diamonds’ feral, wailing song, “you destroyed nearly an entire population to do it… all of you… together.”

“Yes,” Blue Diamond can only utter between the gaps in her fingertips.

There is nothing else she can really say.

No defense against the indefensible.

“This is the story we have to tell,” Pearl finishes unsparingly, and yet, at the very moment she does, she leans backwards in her chair, suddenly exhausted, completely drained, as though she’s already done all the telling and the reckoning and the processing and the labor.

But she’s only scarcely begun.

They both have.

“Not only for this project… but for ourselves, too. We owe ourselves that, at least—the ability to claim everything that we’ve done.”

“Or”—Blue finally lets her hands fall away from her face, leaving only the carnage of overbright eyes behind—“that has been done to you.”

She’s talking about her own atrocities—this Pearl immediately intuits—but Pearl thinks about a different Diamond instead.

A covered mouth.

A hibiscus flower.

And command to never speak of this again.

Because no one can know.

“Yes,” Pearl can only utter.

There is nothing else she can really say.

No defense against the indefensible.

They lapse into silence then, the static from the hologram’s particles humming in the still air.

“It’s a tragic story,” Blue Diamond says, “but I believe you're correct… we have to tell it anyway. For that very reason—so other gems will know the truth… and remember it… remember her.”

Pearl slowly reaches forward to grab the Holo-Crystal, her fingers hovering just above the recording mechanism.

“It’s a story about love,” she quietly asserts, renegade defiance in her voice. “About all different kinds of it, really.”

“The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

And so often the ugly.

“It was complicated,” Pearl only says and presses record.

It’s not an admission here; she's already admitted to this fact—several times over.

To anyone who will listen.

(No one really does.)

Rather, it's a tiny kindness.

Maybe to Blue Diamond.

Maybe to herself.

And maybe even to the memory of the long dead ghost who sits in the space of the thousands of lightyears between them, hands beneath her chin, smiling gently at some beautiful thing that she just saw.

A flower, perhaps.

A human.

An infinite, changing sky.

A world where she could perhaps learn to love herself in the same way that she loved others.

Entirely.

[gesternchen]

Just randomly reviewing scenes from the movies no one remembers now. This week: Avatar (2009).

It’s not like everyone forgot James Cameron’s Avatar. Since we’re still getting some footage from behind the scenes of the sequel and news about the cast, at least someone takes pains to remind themselves of this cinematic experience from the year of 2009. It’s already been 84 (just kidding, 11) years and I’m still looking forward to at least watching the teaser (fun fact: I was 11 when Avatar came out, I’m 22 now). I even bought the Darkhorse comic book on Tsu’Tey’s backstory to, you know, investigate one of my favorite characters a little bit better (spoiler: the backstory wasn’t very much eventful but I noticed a nice detail there which I may talk about briefly a bit later).

Throughout the years Avatar has received a lot of backlash and more or less justified criticism, mainly for the plot and its problematic packaging. I believe, it depends on the perspective one watches a movie from. Of course, I wouldn’t call it an absolute gem of exciting storytelling, even though I truly enjoy it, as in majority its twists are undeniably predictable. However, I always disagreed with people saying relations in Avatar aren’t deep at all. Well, romance between Jake and Neytiri, which, let’s be honest, except for the scene of telling the truth, went too smoothly, and this is why I strongly believe clash of interests is inevitable in sequels. Their interaction remained the key one for the whole movie, and nothing is bad about that, people enjoy a nice lovestory, so do I. But 11 years after I’d like to focus on the disturbing conflict everyone prefers to ignore for some reason when recalling Avatar. For me it’s always been Jake versus Colonel Quaritch.

You guys may have already guessed which scenes I wanna talk about. Those really important ones that I consider climactic to the pace of narration. And what is more about them, they give us crucial details in character development and actors’ play to think through. The main message: Quaritch knew it was coming.

Let me firstly touch upon the scene of short conversation between Jake and Quaritch prior to Sully presumably leaving Pandora. While Jake is awating Quaritch in a large empty hall, he hardly seems to be calm about the talk, every nerve in his body is trembling, but why?

The way Jake’s drumming his fingers on the table makes me wonder if he’s okay.

Then Colonel enters the hall, grabs a chair and reminds that it had been more than two weeks since he got the latest report on how the misson was going. He knows, Sully is questioning reality, and no, he’s not ‘doubting his resolve’. He knows, the right moment to ‘terminate the mission’ is missed. He knows, he lost Jake. He knows, he’s talking to the deserter. Yet Quaritch speaks indifferent. He praises Jake’s effort and rewards him for that. With real legs he promised to him when they first talked. Quaritch hoped they’d trigger the realization in Jake. Which doesn’t happen. How sad he looks when Jake openly refuses to accept the reward.

In just one sequence Stephen’s face demonstrates the shift of all four feelings Quaritch goes through: dissatisfaction, melancholy, shame, disgust.

Quaritch sensed the moment when Jake expressed superiority to the mankind. Jake grasped that Quaritch knew everything, he played with fire, and that’s why he felt anxiety. And it lasted all the way until Quaritch stepped back for leaving the hall. But did Colonel really surrender? I doubt that.

The tension between them both feels electric, so it’s explainable why Jake’s transient smile is so awkward. Sam then heavily staring straight at Colonel's back suggests that up until now Jake regarded Quaritch as his enemy. The enemy he knew he would not be able to defeat.

I remember when watching this scene, I couldn’t get myself the answer to one question. The question was: which report did Quaritch refer to? ‘That report from two weeks ago’, but such information wasn’t satisfactory for me. To be honest, this small discovery became the actual reason why I decided to type this study. Let’s assume that this particular report which Quaritch mentioned was the videolog where Jake confessed that Omaticaya wouldn’t leave the Hometree. Here’s why.

The general audience is used to perceiving Quaritch as a cruel short-tempered military man who just waits for the starting pistol’s shot to destroy everything in sight. Again, nothing is wrong about this, the fact that his character was simply meant to be a generic personification of such type doesn’t leave us with any alternative impression of him. Let’s say, if he was given the order to ignite the operation of the Hometree’s destruction to screw the tribe out of the site, he would absolutely go for it (and so he does). He’s a man of his word after all. Let’s also say, if he was pissed off by Jake’s betrayal, he would transport himself to the mountain site in a blink of an eye, turn off the link and put Jake in jail right after the talk in the hall. Instead, Quaritch decided to wait and give Jake the last chance. Jake preffered unearthly wings to those more tangible, so Quaritch chose not to cut them so abruptly.

We’re moving to the next scene, taking place right before a toned down fight between Tsu’Tey and Jake (I’m saying so, because it’s actually one of the deleted scenes that got edited out of the final cut, and believe me, the pressure between two rivals there is way too intense). Quaritch is watching the record of Jake destroying bulldozer’s lenses with a stone. After that Jake’s face is zoomed and we watch Selfridge get frustrated, Quaritch looks pretty annoyed as well but doesn’t seem to be much surprised. What he’s feeling, is bitter disappointment in himself and knowing that he totally failed to persuade Jake to change his mind.

Just observe Stephen Lang’s performance here. He absolutely nails cold-eyed look, the fire burning slow inside of him is so palpable, and guess what, in a flash he flies off the handle.

Now, shall we check the ultimate scene, preceding the destruction of the Hometree. Though Grace versus Parker juxtaposition is central to this scene, the last time Quaritch confronting Jake face to face in his human body is essential to consider for making things clear.

When it comes to revealing to Selfridge the vainness of further negotiations with Omaticaya, isn’t it just interesting how fast Quaritch manages to find the correct videolog? It literally takes him not more than a couple of swipes to produce the proof. Here is why: he’s already watched the record and is completely aware of the Jake’s values having deteriorated.

You can tell, Jake knew he was under control, but he would rather like to ingnore this fact. His pathetic glance at Quaritch, who’s almost impending above his head, causes to think Jake would guess that Colonel could have watched this videolog. Rather, it was a mutual secret between the two of them until a turning point. But the moment of truth came, and Jake didn’t change his mind. Quaritch made sure of that and finally it was his time to triumph.

So how was it even possible to assume Quaritch may have watched the videolog I’ve been talking about for so long? Well, my explanation may be too easy to believe, but still: we can tell by Jake’s appearance and the date of the record that it is the vlog we need.

This telltale videolog was recorded 16 minutes after the another one, when Jake says that he’s uncertain, who he is anymore (LST abbreviation stands for Local Standard Time). Jake might have suddenly felt depressed and hopeless and got back to the camera while being too emotionally instable, and so must have forgotten to delete the final record.

I have one more note for you. If you check the videolog library Quaritch is swiping through, you’ll see that the latest important record, which he actually needs, is made in the interior of the mountain site block and dates back to August, 13. Other recent vlogs’ covers look nothing like Site 26 sequence. Jake may not have done any of these records at the mountain site. I still wonder though where those three or four ensuing videologs were recorded, the location seems to be red lighted, which means it isn’t blue lighting at Site 26. I may even assume he recorded some pieces at Hell’s Gate. Why would I think so? Probably because in those two scenes (dialog with Quaritch and confession at Parker’s office) Jake looks ten times better than before, he gained some weight at least and doesn’t resemble a living sceleton.

Selfridge gave Jake an hour to relocate the tribe, while gunships led by Colonel’s Dragon were already on full alert. Quaritch had no doubt that Jake’s peacekeeping mission would fail. He knew it from the beginning. Hence he sounds so sarcastic seeing Sully’s avatar tied.

Now Quaritch sipping his villain’s morning coffee tasting like fresh genocide doesn’t feel so cringy: he’s celebrating his victory over Jake (still I should agree with critisism on this point, it really is a stupid cliche and wasn’t intended to carry a deep meaning).

Now I should admit, it’s been a long journey to run this investigation and bring it to light by finally posting it. It took me around a day to collect my thoughts and express them by means of more or less readable English. Just would like to make a little side note: English is not my native, so I promise I did my best! Thanks to James Cameron for making a movie, which woke me up in the middle of the night to start reflecting, and to all the fans out there who still exist and remember this movie and so can read this essay. @avatarmovies I found your blog not so long ago and you guys say you enjoy headcanons (and movie reviews probably?..), so it would be nice if you reblogged this but I’m not insisting!!

[silverfootstepswrites]

Eden: BLEACH [3]

ZERO / BLEACH (here) / TWIST / REVERSE / DYE / RED

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To see a world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower/ Hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour. -William Blake

++++

Shisui still left on his trip.

“I’ll be right back. 3 days max,” he promised, even as Sakura fretted watching him pack his car. He talked to her in bits and pieces as he moved back and forth.

“You won’t even have time to miss me,” he added, shutting the door.

Normally, he was right. He came and went so often that it was an obvious thing.

“I won’t be able to see Venus like this for a while if I miss this window.”

When he stopped in front of her, she tried to put on a smile for him.

“When I get back, we’ll go to that Cuban place you love so much. On me, okay?” he reached out and squeezed her hand. Sakura squeezed back. Smiling brighter- brighter.

“Okay. Be safe.”

She watched him drive away, her heart plummeting down to her feet. She cast one final charm on him for protection as she watched the car make a turn at the end of the street.

At night, as she walked the halls of the dream world. Brushing her fingers along each ornate door, she always made sure to check Shisui’s. Deep blue with gold detailing. The handle was in the shape of a crescent moon. She rested her hand on it. Feeling the warmth of Shisui’s magic thrumming through it. He was too far for her to enter his dreams. But just knowing he was there brought her some comfort.

Itachi didn’t understand her sudden panic. Neither did Sasuke. But he packed a bag and moved into one of the guest rooms on the third floor.

“Just until you stop feeling… whatever you’re feeling,” Sasuke mumbled as he pushed past her when she opened the front door for him.

But as the three days went by, there was no word from Shisui. His phone went straight to voicemail. Neither of his parents had heard from him either.

At the very least, Sakura had pestered him enough for him to say where he was going.

Itachi borrowed Madara’s car to drive up to Shisui’s supposed destination. Sasuke went with him. Sakura almost volunteered to go too. But she thought of Madara all by himself, and she could almost see the blood painting the floor again. She settled for casting protection charms over both of them as she said goodbye. Her heart thumped in her throat until they returned just before sundown.

They contacted the police. Organized search parties. There was no sign of Shisui. It was as if he had just evaporated into thin air.

Ino and Naruto came over to help them post flyers all over the city.

Have you seen this man? they read.

When they stopped to drink coffee, Naruto put his arm around Sakura.

“It’s going to be okay,” he tried to comfort her. Ino put her arm around Sakura too, and they hugged her close. She was grateful for the warmth, even as her stomach continued to twist in knots.

On the fourth night, Itachi borrowed his dad’s car. He went up to search the mountains by himself.

He didn’t return either.

Sasuke tried to follow after them. Only after Sakura grabbed his legs and begged him not to go did Sasuke promise to stay put. He grew pale and sharp, pacing back and forth in front of Shisui and Itachi’s doors in the dream world each night.

Sakura cast Madara’s scrying bones each day, trying to divine an answer from them.

But they only repeated themselves over and over again.

Beware of the dreams that linger.

Do not give your heart away.

Customers and friends dropped by the dream shop, asking where Itachi and Shisui had gone. Those who knew what had happened expressed their sympathy. It was nothing she wanted to hear. Sakura took on Sasuke’s appointments and kept him busy sorting things in the back. He never thanked her out loud, but he bought her coffee more often. Carried her things when they walked back after closing the shop for the night. At the very least his grief hadn’t stolen that from him.

Then, one awful day in December, Shisui’s door went dark.

Sakura scrambled to find a knob. But there was nothing. She pressed both her hands to the door, and it was cold. She screamed in the long, twisting corridor of the dream world. Screamed until it echoed and rippled, warping the fabric of the dream. And when she woke, tears were streaming down her face.

Sakura stumbled into Madara’s room, half-blind in the darkness. He fumbled to turn the lamp on. And then his hands were grabbing hers.

“Shisui is-”

“I know.”

She held on to Madara as she sobbed. Wishing she had tried harder to stop him. And then Sasuke appeared in the doorway too. His face white. Eyes rimmed with red. Sakura reached her hand out for him. He grasped it tightly, silent tears running down his face as he stared at the ground.

They took turns keeping watch over Itachi’s door. It didn’t open up to welcome them. But it didn’t darken either. And that was one small source of comfort.

The scrying bones glowed a little and whispered:

Beware of the dreams that linger.

++++

Sakura couldn’t help but feel responsible in some way.

If only she had convinced Shisui to stay.

Or if only she had managed to hold on to Itachi. To have lost only one cousin rather than two.

She tried to recall that long dream. She didn’t remember seeing the darkened doors to Shisui and Itachi’s dreams. But, then again, she recalled how her fear had kept her up at night. She hadn’t really had a chance to enter the dream world properly during the fitful naps she snuck in. Perhaps their doors had gone dark. She wouldn’t have known.

The police claimed they were still searching, but both Sakura and Madara agreed that it obviously wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry, Sakura. That sucks,” Naruto said. Leaning against her, he put his arm around her shoulder. Ino took Sakura’s hand and patted it a few times.

“Thanks,” was all she could say as her friends did their best to comfort her.

Then Naruto disappeared too.

And Sakura was left wondering why everything was crumbling underneath her feet.

++++

As the days in December went by, the new year loomed over the horizon. Sakura recalled how on New Year’s Eve, she had discovered Madara in that dream. She felt a little sick just recalling the stench of death that overflowed from his bedroom. Sometimes she imagined it when she poked her head inside, just to ask Madara to help with her increasingly frequent headaches.

She slept particularly fitfully one night. She didn’t even get a chance to get to the entrance to the dream world. She was immediately plunged into a nightmare, tossed violently from side to side as if she were in a storm on the open sea.

Every dream had a thread that bound it together. Unknotting it was all it took to resolve it- to send it scattering off in sparkling particles. While that thread was easy to see from the outside, it was much harder to spot on her own. She wandered along the shifting landscape. Now she was in a thorny patch of forest. Then a thunderstorm. Probably a reflection of her troubled mind more than anything.

It took a while. But when she finally found the thread that bound the nightmare, she gave it a sharp tug. Everything around her began to dissolve around her until she found herself standing in her room in the dream world.

There was a soft tap at the door. She knew Madara would walk in.

A fragment of the nightmare lingered- jagged and dark against the light purple walls and floor. Madara banished it with a shake of his wrist. He stepped forward and laid his palm against her forehead.

“You been getting these a lot?” he queried.

Sakura didn’t say anything. Didn’t really have to.

“May I?” Madara then asked, gesturing around. Sakura nodded.

He reformed the piece of the nightmare into a set of matching chairs. He took a seat in one and then patted the other. Sakura lowered herself into it. Her legs were still shaking.

They just sat there in her room. The gems sitting on the shelves pulsated softly in time to her heartbeats. Madara leaned back, one hand tucked under his head.

“You okay?” he finally asked after a long while. It might have just been a moment. It was hard to tell in the dream world. Time didn’t move the way it was supposed to.

“I…” Sakura pulled her knees up against her chest.

She had avoided telling Madara about her dream for the longest time. It was just a nightmare, after all. But it was the first time she had seen one so vivid. And it was the first time something had shaken her to the core like this. She was supposed to be grown now. But as she looked over at Madara, she felt her breath hitch a little.

“I have something I want to tell you, Papa,” she admitted.

His expression didn’t change. When she was younger, she had thought that meant he didn’t care. But he was listening. He opened his eyes, looking at her now. He arched an eyebrow, asking. She shook her head.

“Not here. When we wake,” Sakura added.

And as if responding to her wish, the dream world began to dissolve around them. It was so sudden that Madara’s eyes widened. He reached a hand out for her. But when his hand caught her arm, it just melted into air.

Madara jolted awake, sitting up in his bed.

“Sa-”

“Here, Papa,” Sakura said, stepping into his bedroom. She sat on the edge of his bed.

It startled her. The panicked look in his eyes. But it was familiar.

He grasped her hands a little too tightly. He brought her hands to his forehead. It almost felt like he was shaking a little. And that felt familiar too.

“Did you have a nightmare, too? It’s okay, Papa,” Sakura tried to assure him.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he replied, not meeting her eyes.

Madara took a moment to shake himself out of whatever it was. Then he ran a hand through his hair. He even smiled a little for her. And it struck her again how lucky she was to have him in her life.

“Papa, I had a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I know. I just saw.”

“No… I mean… a while ago. I had a really bad one. And… it really scared me.”

Madara was silent as he took in her story. And once she had finished speaking, Madara picked up the comforter. He wrapped it around her. And then with another smile, he patted her back a few times.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of you, kid,” he promised her.

He said it so easily. But it made her feel at ease. Madara always knew what to do. Or he would open up one of his old books and find an answer another way. He got out of bed, fumbling around for his glasses on the nightstand.

“You’re right that divination and dreams have some kind of link. It might not happen exactly the way you dreamt, but it seems like parts of it are already coming true. Let’s cast some shields around the house for now. And then I’ll figure out what we can do next,” Madara said, already coming up with a plan as he shuffled into his slippers and pulled a robe on over his pajamas.

He mussed her hair one last time before he made his way out of his bedroom. Already muttering incantations and plans to himself. Magic gently drifting off him like gold bits of glitter.

Sakura got dressed and woke Sasuke with a cup of coffee. Madara recommended that she didn’t tell him about the details of her dream. After all, if she had foreseen his brother disappearing, he might not react in the most positive way. She agreed. Especially seeing Sasuke’s bloodshot eyes. The constant exhaustion had really taken a toll on him. He brushed off her concerns when she asked him if he was feeling alright.

Madara was gone for most of the day. When he saw them at dinner, he dropped two necklaces on the table. They were made of silver chains wrapped around three identical gems. A minty blueish-green that swirled together with purple.

“Wear these,” he ordered, settling into one of the wooden chairs. He puffed out a deep breath, fanning himself. He was wearing an identical necklace to the ones he had brought them.

Sakura hovered a hand over one of the necklaces. The soft hum of a charm tingled against her skin.

She looked at Madara.

“Is this one of mine?” she wondered.

“Yeah. It’s from that fluorite you enchanted last summer. Your spell had a nice kick to it so I just enhanced it a little,” Madara replied.

That made sense. Madara’s job was to imbue magic into objects and to see how they interacted. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him enchant wearable objects. And even as she picked it up, Sakura could feel the necklace thrumming with magic now.

It was no wonder he seemed so winded now. It had probably taken a lot out of him to make three of these on such short notice.

“Wear them- especially when you’re out,” Madara instructed. He looked at Sakura. Waited until she nodded. And then he held Sasuke’s gaze. Only looking away when Sasuke nodded too.

Sakura recognized this protection charm as she clasped the necklace around her neck. Just to test it out, she slapped at Sasuke’s arm. Her hand bounced harmlessly off the invisible barrier. It was a shield that responded proportionally to the strength of the threat. When she aimed a fist at him, the shield rebuffed her with a snap.

Sasuke sent a tongue of flame toward her. It scattered off the invisible barrier in a shower of sparks. Even he looked impressed at that.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Madara stared at his nephew. And then he patted him on the shoulder.

++++

They decided to close the dream shop for a while.

Madara drove them past in his car. Sakura hung out the window to cast barriers over the entrance and the windows. Just in case someone felt tempted to break in during their absence.

Then they lingered on the side of the street in the car.

It was late enough that no one was really outside. The windows of all the other stores were dark. Just the occasional neon sign flickering to advertise fortune telling or levitation charms.

Sasuke sat in the back of the car, staring at the shop too.

He had grown even quieter in the absence of his brother. Sometimes he smiled if she really tried to get in his face. But even then, Sakura knew. He was just doing it for her. That something had died inside of him when his brother had vanished into thin air.

Since neither of them was working, they spent even more time together now. Sometimes Sakura coaxed him into helping her testing out her thesis. They both knew that the thesis meant nothing to her now. But it was something to do. To break the suffocating silences where Shisui or Itachi should have been saying something beside them.

As snow fell quiet and lovely on the city, Sakura handed him a piece of banana bread fresh out of the oven. They sat at the window, staring at the powder that had begun to coat the streets and the telephone wires.

“Hey, Sasuke?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve got your back. Okay?”

He turned to look at her. Squinting.

“What?”

She nibbled at her slice of bread, still watching the snow. “I mean that I’m still here. I’ve got your back. So… don’t feel too alone.”

Sasuke stared down at the bread. It was dotted with chocolate chips and little bits of walnuts.

“I… yeah. Thanks,” he mumbled. And then he added, “I got yours too.”

They finished off the bread in silence.

Christmas suddenly rolled around. They found themselves completely unprepared until, two days before, Sakura saw the date on the calendar and noticed.

Even though no one was in the mood for any of that, they cast spells to drape the banisters with garlands and to hang holly from the doors. All the twinkling lights filled the house with glitter. But it lacked the warmth that usually came with this time of year. No one had to say anything. They all knew why.

They ate dinner on Christmas. Just the three of them. Music playing low in the background. The smell of cinnamon and orange filling the air from the candles that burned suspended in each room.

Maybe it would have been a little enjoyable if Sakura wasn’t busy fretting over the shields and wards set all around the house. With each day that brought them closer to the new year, she panicked over every detail. She set double and triple-layered protection charms over every door and every window. She even cast protection over Madara’s car parked on the street.

Madara caught her sitting on top of the steps past midnight. Sasuke had already gone to bed- not that he was getting very much sleep lately.

Madara watched Sakura testing the shield spells for a while. He disappeared for a bit. And when he returned, it was with a cup of coffee. She held it with one hand, continuing to cast with the other.

“Kid…” Madara sighed. “Sakura. You should at least pretend to sleep like Sasuke does.”

And then, leaning against the bannister, Madara smirked. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t waste my breath,” he added before she could make the retort herself. He took off his glasses, let them dangle from the chain around his neck.

“Don’t stay up too late, okay?” he tried to warn her.

As he turned away, Sakura spoke in a tiny voice. So small she thought maybe he wouldn’t hear her.

“Merry Christmas.”

His back was still to her. But he tilted his head.

“Merry Christmas, kid.”

[viastro]

always you | wen junhui

ミ★ synopsis: there’s one rule when it comes to friends with benefits, don’t catch feelings. however, you and your best friend jun were never that good at listening, now were you?

ミ★ genre: light angst, some humor, some fluff

ミ★ warnings: none!

ミ★ word count: 1,829

ミ★ pairings: jun x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys! i wasn’t planning on adding any angst but it somehow... ended up happening... so I... am so sorry....

You and Jun knew that the concept of “friends with benefits” was horrible. You both had a consensus that it never works, and someone always ends up developing feelings through it. However, even after all those times you both clowned the act, you still ended up in each other’s arms. Which is currently right now.

You’re laying in Jun’s bed, his arms wrapped around your bare torso as he sleeps. This is the nth time you and Jun have had sex in a span of two months. You don’t know how this began, well you do but that doesn’t matter. One second you’re both making fun of how they all say “no feelings allowed,” the next second Jun is kissing down your body and you can’t help but want more.

Jun and you have been best friends for as long as you could remember. Your moms have been best friends since they were kids, and as soon as your mom was pregnant with you, his mom was ecstatic about her son on the way having a friend the same age. When they found out that you were gonna be a girl, it slowly went from having our kids be bffies, to having our kids marry each other when they’re old enough.

As you and Jun grew up, you always got disgusted at the idea of marrying each other. Jun using the excuse of you having cooties from the tender age of 5, all the way until he was 16. While you, you said he was a burnt piece of broccoli.

“Y/n, honey, doesn’t junnie look handsome? He even got your favorite flower for your corsage!” Your mom exclaims, making Jun smile widely at her as she gives him a kiss on the cheek. He’s wearing an emerald green dress shirt with tight fitting black slacks. He has a black tie with small polka dots on it, and in his hand is the clear container that’s holding your corsage.

Jun gives you a wink and you fake gag into your hand immediately, making him roll his eyes and your mom hit your shoulder with a giggle. “I suppose… he looks decent…” You mutter, giving him a shit-eating grin and he glares at you.

“Alright, alright you two. Just go and get your corsage from him, then pin the boutonniere on him for me please. You know that auntie will want a good photo of you guys.” Your mom tells you both, making sure to mention Jun’s mom. You walk up to Jun as he takes out the corsage from the container, it’s a white daisy with a few gems surrounding it. You glance up at him through your falsies and you notice that he’s looking at everything but you.

“You know that you have to put the corsage on my wrist, right?”

“YoU KnOW thAt YoU hAVe TO pUt ThE coRsAGe oN MY wRIsT, rIgHT?”

“Motherfucker did you just mock me?” You ask him and he finally looks into your eyes, and you take notice of the blush on his cheeks, but your attention soon goes elsewhere once you notice the challenge in his eye.

“Why yes I did, you cooties having woman.” He answers, putting the corsage on your wrist, to which you both pause your mini feud to smile at the camera.

“What are you, nine? We’re sixteen Junnie please.” You tell him, making sure to prick his chest with the boutonniere and he flinches a bit. You both turn once again to smile at the camera.

“You guys argue like a married couple. It was cute at first, but after having to deal with it for the past three years…” Your mom mentions, causing you and Jun turn away from each other to make vomit noises. She rolls her eyes at the both of you.

“Me? Married to the CEO of cooties? Hell no auntie!” Jun exclaims and you raise your hand up to slap him, making him flinch away from you.

“Oh yeah? At least I’m not a burnt piece of BROCCOLI!” You shout and he gapes at you.

“What did you just call me?” Jun asks, taking a few steps forward until there’s only a couple inches between you both.

“You heard me. Burnt piece of broccoli havin-”

“Okay thanks for the pictures! Have fun! Be home by 11!” Your mom says, shoving you both out the door to avoid a brawl breaking out in her doorway.

Someway, somehow, you and Jun moved past that stage of being fake disgusted with each other and ended up becoming friends with benefits. The one thing you both made fun of the most, especially after all those nights of staying up reading Wattpad stories about the friends with benefits concept and laughing. Now you are both, indeed, booboo the fool.

The first morning after it happened, you guys telepathically agreed to act like it quite literally did not happen. However, that was hard. Considering the fact that Jun seemingly started checking you out more often than not, and him noticing your lingering touches, it ended up happening again. The second time it happened, you both talked it out.

The one and only rule you both agreed on was: “Don’t catch feelings, and don’t let this ruin our friendship.”

As you lay here, feeling Jun’s soft breaths on the back of your neck as he sleeps, you know you’ve broken the rule. You know that it’s been broken for awhile, and you don’t want to tell him. You can’t tell him.

However, what you don’t know is that Jun also broke the one and only rule you both have set. It was broken from the moment you both created that rule, considering the fact that he’s been in love with you since you guys were eighteen. He knew it when you both danced together under the stars at your annual “camping in the backyard” summer activity. He knew it when you’d stand up slightly on your tiptoes to squish his face whenever he made a sarcastic comment. He knew it when he would turn to you and see the whole galaxy in your eyes. He knew it from the moment he first leaned in to kiss you on the drunken night, and when he saw you against the white sheets. He’s known, but he doesn’t have any plans on telling you.

                 °。°。°。°。°。°。°。゜。°。°。°

In the process of denying your feelings for Jun, you met someone from your lecture. He’s nice enough, and he’s rather attractive, but your heart is in the wrong place. Deep down you know it, but you being dumb, you ignore it.

As Jun gets up to go to the restroom during your move night, you check your phone. You notice that the guy from lecture texted you a few minutes ago asking if you wanted to go and grab some dinner. “Oh shit.” You mutter, thinking about what to say. “Should I go?” You whisper to yourself.

“Go where?” Jun asks as he sits back down beside you on the couch, and you quickly turn off your phone, somehow afraid to get caught. This makes you almost slap yourself in the face, because why should you be afraid?

We’re not dating anyways.

“Oh, this guy from my class asked me to go get dinner.” You say as nonchalantly as possible, and you feel Jun tense up beside you.

Because what the fuck, no.

“O-oh.” Jun says quietly, and he internally curses himself because that’s not at all what he wanted to say. You somehow feel disappointed by his lack of response, causing you to also internally curse yourself because you should be happy about it. Him not caring is a step closer to you getting over him, you think to yourself.

“I think I’ll go and get dinner with him. The movie is over anyways.” You say quickly, getting up off the couch and walking over to the dinner table to grab your bag.

“R-really? You don’t wanna make pizza with me?” Jun asks, standing up and following you, trying desperately to make you stay without making it obvious that he doesn’t want you to go. You let out a forced giggle, shaking your head no softly.

“We can do that next time Junnie, I’ll text you later?” You say and Jun bites his lip. You cock your head to the side as he reaches out and grasps your wrist softly.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to go y/n.” Jun murmurs, causing your heart to beat hard against your chest. He looks into your eyes and you feel your knees weaken, along with your resolve. “Why?” You ask quietly.

“I..” You look at him expectantly.

“I broke the rules..” He whispers and you feel your heart drop into your ass.

“You.. you what?”

“Y/n, I don’t want you to see anyone else. I don’t want you to go out and eat with any other guy. I don’t want you to date anyone else,” Jun feels his heartbeat in his ears as he takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what he’s about to say next.

“Y/n, I love you. I’ve been in love with you since we were eighteen. When we first started this and had that agreement, I broke the rule from the start.” He whispers and you stare at him, gaping.

Because holy shit it’s not one sided.

You feel tears flood your eyes and Jun’s eyes widen at the sight of a teardrop fall. You look down, covering your face with your hair as Jun starts asking what’s wrong and why you’re crying. You take a step forward, wrapping your arms around his torso. Jun freezes, before melting and holding you in his arms, rubbing your back the way he knows you like it.

“I broke the rules too, I love you Junnie. I love you so much.” You say, and Jun pulls back so he can get a good look at your face. Your eyes are puffy, and your nose is a bit stuffy, but he knows he’ll never forget this sight.

“You do?” He asks and you nod your head, letting out a smile once he smiles widely at you.

“Perfect.” He whispers before grasping your face with both hands, leaning in to finally kiss you. It’s nothing new, this whole kissing thing, but it’s different this time around. You both know it, and you both can feel it. You start to smile, causing him to smile and teeth to clash together, so he pulls back. You smile widely at him and he giggles at you.

“Just to clarify though,” Jun says, regaining his composure. You raise an eyebrow and he gives you that teasing grin you love so much, “this means you’re not gonna go meet that guy for dinner… right?” You burst out laughing and Jun chuckles too.

“Yes Jun, that’s exactly what that means.”

[gracekelsen]

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[dj-yukio]

I found an unfinished fic from almost two years ago wtf

since I’m never finishing it (I didn’t even know it existed until know like wth), I’ll just put it up here

Chain reaction

The first thought she had after colliding headfirst into the floor was ‘Ow!’

The second thought she had was the numerous situations that had led to them crashing into the ground, complete with curses that just ran through her mind as she rubbed her head.

Really, it had all started when those two lapis lazulis first came to Earth.

Of course, that by itself hadn’t raised any eyebrows. Even after narrowly escaping the end of the world caused by an angry spinel that nearly killed them (and almost caused Peridot to lose her character development, not that she wouldn’t have gained it back, but still) , the Earth remained a great vacation place for home world gems looking to escape the stress of work, especially after Steven had made the diamonds lax most of the rules and regulations and laws and whatnot that had been in place for era 1 and era 2. It wasn’t even when those two looked at her Lapis-the crystal gem Lapis(she didn’t mean it the possessive way, Peridot swore, she meant it in the ‘I recognise this particular lapis’ way, but now that the thought had surfaced it was staying at the back of Lapis’ mind even though she didn’t quite mind the distinction now), promptly recognised her, and then proceeded to have to reintroduce themselves to her before becoming fast friends with their Lapis.

No, it was only when they briefly looked at Peridot with contempt before being all smiles that Peridot had considered the small possibility that maybe, just maybe, they weren’t as nice as they seemed.

And thankfully, Lapis had listened. Sure, she had been a little offended at the thought that her friends —two lapis lazulis who she had been able to relate to, joke around with inside jokes from a thousand years—would potentially harm them, she hadn’t thrown a fit, instead figuring that Peridot had a point given what happened with Navy (oh that Ruby still made her mad, but she had been right then, so who was to say that it wouldn’t happen now? Although, given that this was era 3 and not era 2... but still a valid scenario.

(It wasn’t that Peridot was worried, haha, but seriously she had yet to recover from the whole trauma of seeing her barnmate uproot everything she had known and loved since coming to Earth out of said Earth, aside from Pumpkin, and then proceeded to fly away with the barn out of the atmosphere. Sure, Lapis had apologised, profusely if she may add, Peridot had forgiven, and both understood where the other was coming from, but such a thing wasn’t something that one just forgets, like keys. The last thing the green gem needed was to find out that Lapis had left again, even though both gems knew it was never happening, but fear was an irrational, irrational thing, so it had of course seemed like a threat that she shouldn’t have even considered)

So as a compromise, they had agreed at first to get Steven to come along with them, before settling for Connie when he couldn’t make it for at least ten different reasons.

(“Wow, thanks guys. Feeling real appreciated here.”

“Yeah, you should feel appreciated!”

For some reason, Lapis felt like Connie was only smiling out of pure politeness for Peridot at that moment.)

Which had then led to the Crystal Temps being formed once again.

“Ok! Okay we’re listening, just don’t hurt her!”

Or at least, it would have been a tactical retreat.

Only, Lapis had frozen up at the sight of Malachite 2.0.

Her eyes had widened, and she was shaking as she stared up at the three gem fusion.

And in that moment, as Peridot pushed Lapis out of the way of a punch that would have poofed , maybe even shattered the terrified gem, Lapis wrapped her arms around the other gem to pull her along from the blast radius with their given momentum. It wasn’t really anything intentional, just something she had done out of instinct as all Lapis could see was her small, brave and for once (it better have been only this once) incredibly reckless barnmate before her eyes as they got out of the damage radius.

And in that instant, Lapis could have sworn that she saw a green light flash before her eyes before they fell face flat on the ground.

Which was now why they were rubbing their head from the impact.

“Lapis! Peridot!” Connie’s cries were what got them out of their stupor, the dust cloud making it hard to see through. It was odd, how the dust didn’t get into Lapis’ eyes, and why their surroundings suddenly seemed like it had a tint of cyan instead of yellow.

With a jolt, she lifted her hand to her face, before stopping as she felt something hard covering her eyes. With a flick, it gave out a small thud, and she concluded that she had visors. That wasn’t weird, because Peridot always wore visors. Or was it weird that Lapis had visors on now of all times? She didn’t know why there was something different with her now, but it wasn’t like it was a horrible difference. Just... different. A good different, even. She enjoyed being like this.

And then she remembered about the other gem. Peridot, who had pushed her out of the way. Lapis, who she had pushed out of the way. Both were nowhere to be found.

So she did the only thing conceivable at that moment and called out for the other.

“Lapis? Peridot?”

Her voice quaked as all four of her hands touched her face, and suddenly, finally she understood.

“We fused!”

Then the shock settled in, and two distinct voices rang out, one out of horror and the other out of genuine surprise.

“I fused?!”

“Nevermind that! Run!”

A hand grabbed onto one of her own, and before she knew it, she was being pulled along, barely avoiding another dust storm as Malachite trailed close behind.

Maybe it was because of the sudden stress, or the clear presence of a gem who wanted nothing more than to shatter them, but as they watched the shield start to splinter, the more logical side of her mind took over and started to compartmentalise her thoughts and organise her priorities. There would be a time for both of them to address this entire fusion issue. There would be a time for her to freak out over the sheer insanity of what had just happened and process it properly.

That time was not now.

Step 1: save Connie. Step 2: Escape!

With her now more one track mind, the fusion pushed aside her current concerns as the dust cleared, grabbing onto Connie by the waist and turning tail just as the giant fist smashed though the pink barrier keeping them alive, barely avoiding the blast while her other two arms and feet made a mad dash out of the area, resembling something like an frightened cat, pounding on the ground in a mad canter while holding Connie off the ground above her head. With water wings coming out of her back, her hands and feet gave the ground a hard push as they achieved lift off out of the canyon.

“Ok, so what’s step 3?”

“What step 3?”

“Of course Malachite could fly. She’s got the abilities of two lapis’.

“She’s chasing us she’s chasing us! What do we do now?!”

“I’m Dioptase, nice to meet you.” She shook it hard before letting go. “Now let’s get out of here before we all shatter—!”

“YOU!”

“Eeek!”

Dioptase felt a terror like never before from both of her constituent gems, resolving to fly faster. Ironically, with both of them panicking over the same thing, it helped her put things into perspective. So, Malachite was going to get her. Alright, fine, if it meant Connie would be fine. Wait, that’s not fine, she didn’t want to be captured. She slapped a hand to her face as she tried to sort out her thoughts.

Then Connie pointed at the ground.

“Land there!”

She looked down at where he had pointed at, only to look back at him with a bewildered face.

“In the recycling centre?!”

Whatever metallic item she could control merely pelted against Malachite, like raindrops on a window in a light shower. Insufficient to make a breakthrough.

“This is it. I’m gonna die here, and I haven’t even existed for twenty minutes!”

Dioptase closed her eyes, turning away from her aggressor as all four arms gripped her head.

But the impact never came.

Instead, a thud rang out. Followed by a grunt as something seemed to have pushed Malachite back.

With one hand frantically moving about her body, the fusion could still feel her form, which meant that they hadn’t shattered after all. A dark shadow looked over them, like something bigger than Malachite had blocked out the sun momentarily from her.

Connie answered the question in her head first as she peeked an eye open.

“Gasp...! Giant metal hands!”

“Holy smokes! I’ve got giant metal arms?!”

“Rargh! You cowards!

The metallic arms moved in response as she waved them around, fluid like water and yet maintaining the same strength as metal. Sparks flew as both hands clapped together in response to the gem clasping her hands together in excitement.

Dioptase could kiss Peridot and Lapis in gratitude.

“BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING??”

“Oh, and I’m sure you’re hurting her as well! I’m the only one that can handle you, Lapis!”

All she knew that she wanted was for Jasper to leave.

And with a quick swipe, she slapped the giant fusion with a metallic hand, the other forming a fist as she pulled it back.

“Leave us alone!”

The next thing they knew, a cry rang out after Dioptase punched Malachite from the ground, sending the other fusion flying in a bright spark somewhere far away.

“How did you know that that would work though? Like,” Dioptase gestured at the walls of the recycling centre, some of which had been torn apart and was part of the giant metal puddle on the ground, “that. I didn’t even know what we were doing! Well, I did, but you get the idea.”

——————————————————————————————————

Cut out parts

“And finally, authority.” Jasper gestured to herself. “Power and intelligence means nothing if you can’t control your subordinates. I can do it, play the bad guy each time someone steps out of line. Order needs to be maintained by those with authority. That’s how society works, for every gem to have a purpose. What’s the use of a purposeless gem?”

“We could shape home world into a society of what we want. We’ll be respected and have our statuses back. We’ll be the ones making the rules, conquering the planets. We can even leave this rock alone.”

“I know. But you’re also weak in another way.”

Steven held out his arm, ready to raise his shield against them. All he got was a mere grunt before Jasper grinned sinisterly.

“Your organic body. Get her.”

Within a second of that order, Lazuli clenched her fist, and Steven’s arms dropped to the side as he squirmed, the blood flow in his body suddenly slowing so much such that it was keeping him barely alive without completely killing him.

“I only ask that you listen to me.”

“Uh-uh. Run, and he gets it. Really, it’d be better for all of us if you just listen.”

A hand grasped Lapis’, who looked down to see Peridot holding onto her arm as if to calm her down. With new found confidence, she glared at the quartz, ready to face her down if it meant Steven’s life. “What do you want, Jasper? If it’s about Mala-“

The perfect quartz held out her hand, stopping Lapis from continuing. “Hmph. I’m not talking about that.” Jasper spread her arms out, as if she was welcoming old friends rather than enemies. A big smile on her face that seemed friendly, if not for the horns on her head or the fact that Steven was currently being trapped by their supposed friends. “Well, maybe, but that’s not the main point. I’ve come to invite you to join me. Yes,” she continued, seeing the stupefied face on the smaller gem’s face, “even you, Peridot.”

“You see, the diamonds that were in power. We had armies, we had everything. We could have conquered the galaxy, and do you know what happened?”

“Our gem society is lawless now! There’s a power gap that’s dividing all of us! There’s no-no purpose for us to exist anymore. And it’s all because of him!”

“But I’ve come to realise something. If you want to make a change, you’ve got to lead. And to lead, you need three things.”

“Oh yeah, you-you clod?!”

“Firstly, you need power.” She gestured at the three lapis lazulis standing before her. “Don’t you ever wonder why so few of you are made? It’s because the Diamonds themselves know how dangerous you are. Power gets you respect, and when you have respect, you get control.” The hungry glance in her direction lingered just long enough to feel uncomfortable. “We don’t even have to fuse. Just giving you access to water would be detrimental to any who rebel against you. You’ll have a place back in home world. Your statuses would be regained.” Peridot tugged a little harder at that, and Lapis placed her other hand on her to assure her that she wasn’t convinced.

If Jasper had noticed it, she didn’t say anything about it, instead continuing with her grand speech. “Secondly, brains.” She gestured at Peridot, and Lapis subconsciously stepped forward as if trying to shield her away from the immediate threat, just as she had done with the red eye those years ago. Jasper held out both of her hands placatingly, still grinning at the two gems as she turned her gaze towards the smaller of the two. “You’re pretty smart. You managed to figure out how to control metal, something that no other Era 2 peridot has ever figured out.” With a jolt, Peridot realised that Jasper was trying to convince her. “That story about the Crystal gems flying to home world on Yellow and Blue Diamond’s ships after both had supposedly crashed... while the Bismuth may have been able to fix the ship, only you out of the group could have had the technical knowhow to fix the ship, and that was without your limb enhancers. Just imagine how much greater you would be back in home world.”

(Lapis admittedly hadn’t been paying attention at that part, if only because she was more concerned about the other issue of Steven turning blue, which was not a natural color for humans, so it surprised her that she had remembered all of that. On the other hand, Peridot was more surprised that her once escort had even bothered to include her in her obviously villainous scheme, and while she was only slightly flattered, this was not a good time to be happy.)

Jasper continued on with her speech, ignoring the obvious lack of attention from the other two if she had even noticed that they were no longer looking at her, instead having a silent eye conversation between themselves.

(It’s one of those conversations that only people who had a great connection with each other could have, like a pair of best friends or a couple so in sync that they could read each other’s minds. And it went something like this:

A quick glance at all the gems surrounding them, before uncertainly looking back at Lapis. So... what do we do?

An incredulous look followed by a rapid shift as she glanced at Steven, almost frantically as if hoping the other would come up with some brilliant plan before scrunching you her eyebrows. Does it matter what we do? Steven’s dying! I...think. Blue isn’t a good thing for humans right? Something about drowning or lack of air...

Green eyes darted towards the perfect... well almost perfect quartz in front of them who was still monologuing, before glancing at Lapis and then Steven. Well, we obviously don’t want to be shattered by Jasper over there! We need to extricate Steven over there. Is there... is there a way you can get his blood to flow through his body again?

A confused face. I’m sorry? Didn’t get that.

A nod towards her hands and then to Lazuli and Blue. Your... yourself. You can, um, you know, your hands. Free him?

Her face looked thoughtful before she jerked her head to the other two blue gems and shook her head. Can’t, not with those two around. They’ll get to him before I can, and honestly I don’t know enough about humans to make sure he’s fine. Also, I’m plenty terrified, just so you know—)

“So what do you say?”

Both Lazuli and Blue looked at Lapis expectantly.

Both gems looked at each other, coming to a unanimous decision before facing Jasper.

“No.”

“Wow, but no thanks.”

They had expected her to throw a fit, for Jasper to growl at them for daring to oppose her.

Instead, Jasper huffed and shook her head, as if she was disappointed. She waved towards Lazuli, who released her grip on Steven, who slumped but was still breathing, gasping really, from the lack of oxygen in his body. “Well, I did try.”

And somehow, that display was more terrifying than any show of anger, because it meant that Jasper had actually wanted for them to work with her, and that she had expected, or at the very least believed, that there was a possibility that they would refuse her offer.

And for the first time since she had come into existence, Dioptase laughed, a hand pointing at the now constrained gem as she grinned.

“Nyeheheha! Got you!” Although she was no longer controlling the shape of the metal, unlike how Lapis’ water arms would lose its shape and just slump to the ground in a wet puddle in a similar scenario, the metal constraints held the giant together steadily, and Malachite was unable to shrug it off.

“Woah!” Conni eyes lit up with stars, breathing heavily after having held up a shield for at least a few minutes with an angry fusion smashing against it. “Who are you?”

“Steven, this really isn’t the time. In case you haven’t noticed, big angry gem behind us!”

“Come on, just a name?”

The fusion looked at her arms with both of her eyes. Now that she had a good chance to observe herself, the once Kindergartener part of her immediately recognised the greenish blue tint of her skin before grabbing onto one of Steven’s hands.

[aqours-remade-again]

So I mostly really loved SU Future but boy oh boy do I have some Opinions on Rose’s writing :))))))! (don’t we all though)

OK before I go on, full disclosure: for the most part I loved this premiere of Steven Universe Future. In particular, the episode with the Roses (and especially Chill Rose) and Pink Pearl in general is easily my favorite thing to come from SU in a very long time; far more so than the movie, actually. But oh my God; I’m so fucking sick and tired of this shit with Rose Quartz doing everything wrong.

Rose’s character arc, if... er... debatable, makes sense. Pink was born into the highest echelons of power within her society, with three elder sisters who were tyrannical and neglectful towards her. When given the opportunity Pink finally understood that their empire was built on genocide and destruction, and devoted herself to Earth’s freedom, and begged her sisters to not let this planet be destroyed. She faked her own death in a hopeful attempt this colony was just something to appease her and the Diamonds would lose interest afterwards; this resulted in a war with horrific consequences, and Pink/Rose spent the rest of her life, thousands of years atoning for this mistake. Even if it wasn’t a perfect narrative, its one that makes sense.

But this franchise and its writers seem hellbent to just pile it on, like every single bad thing that’s ever happened was Rose’s fault; and its getting really frustrating. I fucking HATED that the SU Movie basically boiled down to “lol this was all Rose’s fault :))))” Rose understood she made mistakes. Rose made a lot of mistakes. But again; she spent thousands of years atoning for them, and its because of that the Earth still exists at all. Earth would have been destroyed thousands of years ago if she didn’t chose to own her mistakes and fight for Earth’s liberation. And now we have a narrative about Pink’s “destructive tantrums” that physically maimed Volleyball? What the fuck is that? We literally saw in one of Steven’s dreams White Diamond reaching for a non-damaged Volleyball. The whole reason the Diamonds had a redemption arc (one that was EXTREMELY rushed btw) was because they did really horrible things and they needed to become better people if this universe was going to change; that’s the whole point of a redemption arc! Villains did bad things that needed redeeming! They did bad things in the past! That’s what a redemption arc is for! Why is it so hard to say that White did SOMETHING bad to Volleyball? What’s with this show’s fucking obsession with piling every single bad thing onto Rose’s name? What’s next? Did Rose do Chernobyl?

Rose saved the world, just as her son would thousands of years later. No matter how you look at it, no matter her mistakes, Rose is the second most important character to this universe other than its titular character, her son; perhaps THE most important. All this shit we see with the school for gems on Earth, the theme of how liberating and beautiful and wonderful the planet Earth is and why everyone fought so hard to protect it? That is owed to Rose who rejected the power of her birthright and her right to monarchy to preserve it; none of this would be possible without Rose’s rebellion. But it really feels like the narrative has forgotten that. Ever since Bismuth this narrative has been on a really bad downwards slope with this and its getting worse, and although we haven’t finished this miniseries... does anyone have any real hope they can fix it after this? It honestly disappointed me that Rose’s portrait is just gathering dust somewhere now; I was really hoping in the episode with the Rose Quartzes they’d find some common ground and take pride in their mother’s legacy, only to be immediately bombarded with this. And no, that Pink USED to be destructive but became a healer as part of her redemption arc, which in the narrative was resolved nicely a very long time ago doesn’t make it better. I was already on my last straw with Spinel’s backstory, this shit just reaks of “Oh shit uhhh what do we do now...? OK! Pink did ANOTHER bad thing! OK that’s the conflict now.”

And everyone, I love Steven Universe. Its one of my favorite shows ever. That’s why I get so upset about this. This narrative that Pink changed doesn’t make it better. It was touching when the fusion said about how Pearl always tried to see how Pink was changing and how Volleyball never understood Pink could never change; but after seeing that episode, how is any viewer supposed to reasonably feel other than piling onto the idea Pink was the worst person to ever exist? This idea of a “reverse redemption arc” doesn’t work when all that is ever added to Pink’s character now is more reasons to hate her. By the end of this, Rose’s portrait is gone. We are not being given more reasons to cared about a flawed character; just more and more to dislike her.

“I can’t even deal with one more horrible thing she did!” yeah me too Steven the writing surrounding your mom is getting really fucking obnoxious and I’m sorry the story can’t assign literally one bad thing to her sisters at this point. I’m sorry your mom has to be responsible for Literally Every Bad Thing That Happens Now and the entire narrative of her saving the world is almost nonexistent at this point.

anyways to end this on a positive note: the Pearls gay. this is Good

[mithosgrid]

Steven Aunivere: Crazy Diamond, the Magical Boy

                                                              ~Prologue~

10,000 years ago the human world Earth was watched over by its unseen guardians, the Gem World. Gem World was a magical place with technology beyond human imagination even now, with their powerful magic and science they protected us.

One day however everything changed, the leader of the four royal sisters of Gem World White the Clarity chose o have her forces invade Earth, her sisters shocked and one in particular appalled had no idea what had come over her chose to stand up to white, this was Pink the Precocious the youngest and most clever of the sisters.

Pink could not stand what had happened and noticed how her sisters Blue the Empathic and Yellow the Stalwart seemed to change as well, their hearts growing darker she was face on all sides as the last to be thinking clearly. Pink ever the clever one discovered a ritual with which she could sever the connection between Earth and Gem World, gathering the sacred treasures and her loyal followers she stood against White and in the battle her followers were struck down, Pink however would not relent and broke the binds between the two worlds and to ensure White would never endanger the Earth again she used forbidden magic to split herself and White's souls in two with the bulk of their power and hearts to be reincarnated on Earth as humans.

Pink and White's shells now isolated twisted and contorted became the Pink Monster and Black Diamond, yet sealed between the two worlds they were to forever sleep. Many centuries later Yellow the Stalwart and Blue the Empathic succeeded in bringing the sleeping Black Diamond to Gem World, the duo using the combined power of the three of them to open a portal to Earth with which they sent their soldiers.

Rose Quartz rising up, a young woman who had discovered her gem magic inside her human heart raised a force of warriors: Pearl, Garnet, Ruby, Sapphire, Bismuth and the mysterious Snow, Snow becoming Rose's best friend and companion along with the enigmatic Earl Snow's vassal and Pearl's apparent long lost sister. This force of noble human gems called the Crystal Gem Warriors drove back the invading forces of Gem World. Snow and Rose going so far as to head to Gem World themselves and facing down Yellow and Blue who recognized the hearts of their sisters explained their relation and turned the two against one another as their memories began to flood back.

Snow being driven mad as she sensed Black Diamond's darkness and battled Rose who was adamant of their connection. "We should not have to fight Snow, we have been like sisters and discovering we once were we should be stronger then ever!" Rose's words echoing to Snow, however she could not speak, she could not for in this moment she was White the Clarity. Snow casting a long and pale shadow as she lunged with her staff wearing the widest and most insane grin.

Flashes of light, sounds of the clashing of weapons as the two former friends battled at the Gem World castle. Rose blocking as many of the swings and thrusts, unable to draw her sword on her friend. "Rose, Rose, Rose don't you see we who were outcasts on Earth can be gods here why should that be wrong Starlight?!" Snow's words weakening Rose's resolve, he opening just enough as Snow smacked Rose's shield away and sent her flying across the crystaline castle landscape.

Rose crying, tears streaming down her face as for a split second her mind went blank and when she recovered she screamed at the top of her lungs in terror. "S-S-Snow...........I-I didn't mean to!" Rose quivering as she was suddenly holding her sword, Snow impaled on it as she laughed and laughed, her staff having been somehow flung back and impaling Black Diamond's lifeless large form on her throne it now twitching as her body began to radiate an aura of pure destruction, the entire castle pulsing and cracking apart causing Yellow and Blue to flee while Rose and Snow fell back into the portal that had brought them home.

Rose opening her eyes as her head was resting on Pearl's lap, the pale and skinny girl hugging her beloved leader. "Oh Rose I thought I had lost you when you and Snow went ahead, what happened did you stop the Diamond Authority from opening their full gateway?"

The poofy pink haired woman looking at her blood stained hand and gasping, she looked at the concerned Pearl which made her shake her head and try to recompose herself. "I-I am fine and yes we did it, but Snow..............I suppose Snow is gone?" Rose looking around and not seeing her once beloved friend, the warioress still unsure of what had truly happened. "Lets go home Pearl, round up the others."

Unbeknownst to Rose Snow had survived, the woman weakened and near death wandering off to be found by Earl, who herself had been hurt in the epic battle with her left eye bleeding and her larynx cut. The two damaged women slinking off for Earl would not lose her beloved lady, the one she had sworn to eternally serve.

The two recovering and Snow now so weakened she could never use her powers ever again living out her long life, the lady of white now more fragile, more wise, and more solemn then before she nevertheless found love. However her beloved disappeared and Snow with child was told by a doctor that her body damaged and still weak after so many years would mean she could never have a baby safely was faced with a choice. "Earl what do I do? This child is all I have left of him, I want my baby so badly yet they said it could cost me, the baby or both our lives?" The pale girl with the pink hair contently smiling as she raised her right hand. "My lady, you have been so lonely for so long, you want this so badly you must follow your heart." Earl signing as she often did everything, for so long it had been just the two of them yet she knew that was never enough for Snow. "I will support you and the child, I swear on my life."Snow clasping Earl's hand and smiling back.

It was to be the last true tender moment between them as Snow would die in childbirth, holding her baby only once and handing it to Earl and asking. "You have served me so loyally for so long, you are my oldest friend please watch over him as you have me, that is my final request." Snow smiling in true bliss as she quietly passed.

Earl crying from her hetocromia eyes and sniffling as she flung her head back and cradled the baby close.

Hard stomping on crystal floors echoing out through a darkened hallway as a mysterious woman with huge wide shoulders, long white shaggy hair down to her combat boot wearing feet clomped into a darkly lit throne room and took a knee. "My Diamond I am here."

"Excellent Jasper, we are ready to begin the first wave of invasion and you are to supervise we must gain enough energy to awaken black Diamond and open a portal large enough to invade en mass." Sitting in a tall golden throne peering yellow eyes with diamond iris's looked down at the well built lady warrior who stood and saluted.

"Rest assured I already have some plans in place, as one of the four great yellow generals I shall not fail." The large woman turning her back on her lady and grinning wide with a look of utter menace.

To be Continued........

Special Thanks to Chekhov an amazing artist and comic writer over on Tumblr and Tapas, be sure to check the work out its amazing.

Also I know Steven is NOT even in this chapter, he will be in Chapter 1 I promise. ;3

[alleiradayne]

Girl’s Got Rhythm

Summary: A demon shows up at the Bunker door with a proposition for Sam. Square Filled: Boy King of Hell!Sam Warnings/Tags: Fluff, language Characters/Pairings: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Adria (original female character) Word Count: 2408 A/N: For @deanandsambingo​​’s Sam Bingo, this fills the square Boy King of Hell!Sam. This also fills the prompt I submitted for myself for the Sam Winchester’s Antichrist-mas Birthday Extravaganza, hosted by sammessiah on livejournal. @quickreaver​ shared the post above and all prompts/fills are handled on AO3. And, as always, thank you to @atc74​ for beta’ing. Song: Girl’s Got Rhythm by AC/DC

The first thump startled them both. Sam snapped his head up from his book and glared across the table at Dean's wide-eyed confusion, then followed his stare as he looked to the doorway. The second thump reverberated through the Bunker, faded as it reached the Kitchen where they sat eating breakfast, then fell silent once more. With the third echoing concussion, Sam and Dean leaped from their seats and bolted for the war room.

There they found nothing until a final resounding thump knocked on the Bunker doorway, its thunderous boom rumbling through the vaulted space for several seconds until it, too, faded.

“Someone is… knocking on the door," Dean stated.

Though it was not a question, Sam concurred. “I think so,” he started as he stepped towards the stairs.

“Don’t open it!”

Over his shoulder, Sam asked, “Why? What if someone needs help?”

Dean rolled his eyes harder than Sam had seen in months. “Who cares?! Nobody should know we’re in here!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

A single second seemed to stretch forever as they stared one another down until Sam bolted up the stairs. Dean chased after him, taking the steps two at a time, but Sam’s longer legs leaped three and even skipped the last four as he vaulted to the landing. With victory in reach, he grasped the cold iron handle of the door, but the moment he pulled, Dean barreled into him. Torn from the door, Sam struggled for the handle until Dean restrained him, arms entangled and boots scraping the floor.

Another resounding knock on the metal shook the foundation, and they froze in their awkward position.  The thunderous echo rolled once more through the Bunker, then faded into silence, but Sam knew it was not over.

“They’re going to break the door down!” he spat from Dean's half-nelson headlock.

As he struggled, Dean replied, “Let them! Then we’ll have a reason to kill whoever it is!”

“I can hear you.”

The lilting alto of a woman penetrated the door and Sam stilled as Dean’s restraint loosened. “Did you hear that?”

After one lingering moment, Dean released him. “Yeah. Who’s there?!” he barked.

“My name is Adria. I am here to speak with Sam Winchester,” the muted voice said. “Is that you, Dean?” she asked.

“How do you know my name?!” he bellowed at the door. “Who the hell—”

Sam calmed him with a hand at his shoulder. “Can we just open the damn door? Please?”

Dean’s glare promised Sam hellfire and brimstone if shit went sideways. “Fine.”

He turned back to the door, trepidation numbing his fingers. One clarifying breath steeled his nerve. Someone just needed his help. She knew their names. They must have met before. Resolved, Sam shook free of his caution, grasped the handle of the door, and wrenched it open. In the dim portal light, a tall, dark-haired woman stood. She wore a faded NASA t-shirt tucked into the front of her jeans and a pair of tennis shoes. In the crook of her elbow she clutched a small, leather bound book against her chest, and on the other a yellow purse hung from its strap.

“What do you want?”

She did not simply ignore Dean’s belligerence. She acted as if he had not even spoken and looked directly at Sam. “How are you, my Lord?”

My lord. He must have misheard her. “Ah… wha—” he cleared his throat, “What did you just call me?”

Her bright doe eyes shifted from him to Dean and back before she said, “My Lord.”

Unsure of how to respond, Sam checked in with Dean to find him equally stunned, his glare shifting between Sam and the woman. When Dean returned his focus to Adria, he spoke out of the side of his mouth. “Sam, something’s wrong with her. She thinks you’re some sort of royalty.”

That seemed to strike a nerve. Adria's fierce hazel stare snapped to Dean as she seethed, “How dare you speak such blasphemy to the King of Hell?”

The world came to a screeching halt as Sam reeled, mind leaping from thought to thought as he tried to keep up. For a moment, he was convinced that this was some sort of elaborate prank set up by Dean and his friend. But Dean's gaping mouth and bulging eyes said more than any denial could.

Sam held his breath as he waited for his tirade, but it never came. A roar of laughter burst from Dean’s wide-open mouth as he clutched his stomach and damn near fell backwards down the stairs. “King of Hell?" he breathed through a gasp as he reached for the railing. His laughter continued as he repeated himself. "King of… of Hell?!" Another peal of laughter filled the entry and Dean double over, hands on his knees. Several awkward seconds passed before he calmed down with a clarifying breath. "Holy shit, that’s a good one. King of Hell. Ha! You…" he paused as a bark of laughter interrupted his thought. “Whew. You really had us going there for a second, lady. What’s up, what are you selling—”

With a blink, Adria's eyes blackened, dark as pitch, then reverted to their natural hazel in another flick of her long lashes. "I am here on official business, Dean Winchester,” she stated.

The flat of Dean's palm slapped Sam across the chest. As he stepped in front of him, he said, “Son of a bitch, she's a demon.”

“I gathered that much," Sam stated flatly. A gentle nudge eased Dean's arm aside, and Sam stepped forward. "What do you wan—”

“Give me one good reason I don’t waste you here and now,” Dean barreled over Sam.

Adria held the small tome out to Dean, but he refused to take it, hands shooting into the air as if she pointed a gun at him. When he refused to move, she turned to Sam. “Hell has been a bit of a mess since Crowley died. Nobody assumed control,” she explained, still holding the book aloft. “When Sam blocked the throne about two years ago, most demons went into hiding. The fucking cowards missed a real opportunity there. I convinced them to align with you,” she finished as she regarded Sam with a smile that looked far too sweet for a demon.

“Align… are you saying that every demon in Hell wants to follow me?” Sam asked.

As though it were as simple as that, Adria shrugged with a nod, then a coy smirk curled her lips. “They always say those Winchester boys are too smart for their own good.”

“Who says that?” Dean barked.

She turned to him, her smile widening. “Demons. Succubi. Incubi. Damned spirits. You know. The denizens of Hell. Word travels fast, and, well you boys have been at it for fifteen years. Got a reputation. Sam’s living up to his.” She paused as she measured Dean head to toe and back. “You… might actually be living up to yours. But I don’t want to report back that the big, bad Dean Winchester froze when handed the Book of Shadows.”

Dean’s arms slowly lowered to his sides as he asked, “Book of Shadows?”

A long, lacquered nail tapped the midnight blue cover.

No. Purple cover.

Black.

Blue.

Green?!

“What… is that… that’s not leather,” Sam stuttered.

Her finger traced the Celtic brain encircling the pentagram. “It is. Dragonhide. She gave me a skin from her own flank.”

Sam’s attention snapped to Dean as he stepped forward and said, “She gave you a piece of her skin?!”

Adria’s coy smirk returned. “I asked nicely,” she said as she tapped the metal emblem with her nail.

“And that?” Sam asked as he returned to the book. “That gem.”

“Ah, you have a keen eye, Sam Winchester,” she sighed as she smoothed the stone with her fingertips. “That is a lifestone. It quiets the worried mind, soothes the anxious soul. It’s quite useful for completing contracts.”

His eyes snapped to hers. “Contracts?” he growled.

Adria met his glare head on, then opened the book in the middle. “Yes. Contracts. This book contains all current operations that require ongoing management and prospects on which decisions need to be made,” she said as she held it out to him. When neither of them took it, she pointed at a line for them to read.

“I don’t… think that’s a good idea,” Sam started. “That’s—”

“Sam, shut up for a second,” Dean interrupted as he backhanded him in the shoulder. “Look at it.”

Sam did as Dean ordered and as he read, his jaw dropped. A long list of contracts, some initiated and others marked as potential deals, filled the page in a perfect script so tiny that Sam had to lean into read it. Hundreds of names in alphabetical order listed what they had wanted in exchanged for their soul in a set number of years. Some had no year, and Sam’s stomach sickened at the thought of what those poor souls had endured.

“So…” Sam started, “what do you need me to do?”

Adria grabbed Sam’s hand, much to Dean’s ire, and placed the open book in it. “Review each contract, both existing and potential and decide on how to proceed. Existing contracts are always reviewed every year to ensure that they are still beneficial to Hell. If not, we typically collect early to free up crossroad resources. As for potentials, you’ll need to decide if they’re even worth making the deal, as well as their terms and conditions.”

“Where are the—”

“The book has everything you’ll need to decide,” Adria clarified.

Unsure, he glanced at the book, then checked back to Adria. She said nothing, merely smiled again. He returned to the book and, when he flipped to the next page, her statement proved true. Another sheet of paper manifested with more names. He flipped through four pages before he arrived at the existing contracts and their details listed in full. More pages listed terms and conditions. Another ten pages contained the same. Sam gathered the remaining pages and thumbed through them, but no matter how many pages he passed, the book never seemed to progress in either direction.

When he arrived at the potential contracts, Sam stopped. He barely bothered to read the first prospect, then snapped the book shut. A brief thought occurred to him, then he handed the book back to Adria and said, “Burn it.”

Dean snorted a laugh through his nose, then snapped over his mouth. Adria regarded them both before glaring at Sam. “What?”

“I said burn it. I want you to burn the list, the contracts, and that whack-ass fucking book, holy shit, I cannot believe I touched that thing,” he rambled as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Christ, what kind of magic is that, my hands are on fire.”

“The magic of responsibility,” Adria huffed with an air of superiority. “You seriously want me to destroy it?”

“Yes!” Sam shouted. “Get rid of them all! No more deals! No more contracts! Just… give it a fucking rest. Seriously, hell and heaven have done enough damage messing with humans. For once, just do your damn jobs and manage the souls that come to you the only way they should.”

A narrowed glare far too familiar eyed them both before Adria returned the book to the crook of her arm and straightened her spine. Her sweet smile returned as though it had never left. From her purse she fished out a solid black business card and handed it to Sam. He took it, looked it over, and found handwriting matching that of the list in the book detailing her contact information. “So be it. When I require anything further from you, I’ll email you. But in the meantime, if you have questions, my number is also on the card.”

A long, weighing look of Dean, then Sam, preceded her departure.

“Here’s to new beginnings. All hail King Sam, the Lord of Hell. May his reign be long and,” she paused as she eyed him head to toe, “prosperous.”

She turned on her heel and ascended the ladder for the exterior door of the Bunker. Sam turned to check in with Dean only to find him watching Adria climb until the top hatched closed. When Dean found he had been caught staring, he grinned. “I think she likes you.”

“What?”

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t rule her out,” Dean added as he turned for the stairs. “Not like it would be the first time you banged a demon…”

“Dean, that’s—”

“I’m not giving you shit,” Dean said as he descended the steps. “She actually seemed pretty cool. You should invite her back over when she emails you. I mean, it sounds like she organized all of Hell to support you. She must think you’re the right person for the job.”

Sam followed him down the stairs, the gears in his mind churning. “She was nice… and she didn’t seem too upset about my very hasty decision to burn that book. I’m not sure was the right thing to do.”

“Pff, gimme a break. You just saved like, thousands of lives, man,” Dean said as he arrived at the bottom of the stairs. He turned to face Sam and clapped him on the shoulder. “We never get it done that easily. And you practically got a girlfriend out of the gig, too.”

“You are so fucking gross sometimes,” Sam sighed. “We—both of us—had a ten-minute conversation with her, she’s not—”

“Sometimes all you need is ten minutes. Even if I’m standing right there. Did you not see the way she looked at you when she left? All hail King Sam, Lord of Hell. She eye-fucked the shit out of you.”

No. Regardless of Dean’s teasing, nothing could be worse than a relationship with another demon. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about this,” Sam said as he turned for the kitchen. “I need a drink.”

When he skipped down the steps, Dean called after him. “Give me her number! Or that card!”

Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes. He would definitely not be giving Dean her number. Or her email. Or anything of Adria’s for that matter.

A small smile quirked the corner of his mouth as he regarded her business card once more. No, he thought. He would absolutely be keeping her all to himself.

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[introvert-celeste]

Do you have an issues going on with jasper and why it seems like she's getting shafted despite being talked about a bunch of times by RS in the past and the fact that they are possibly not going to address the lapis and bismuth situation and it's possibly resolved off screen in the time skip and it's going to be a barn situation (peridot and lapis becoming friends quickly despite lapis really hated her) which is probably why some people are turned off by seeing peridot, lapis and bismuth togeth?

Oh, anon, anon, anon...you brought this upon yourself. Now you have to listen to my long ass theory about how jasper, Lapis, and Bismuth are all connected and that connection lies in Beta. I don’t feel like linking to all the other posts I’ve done on it, simply because I don’t feel like digging them up, so you’re about to get the long explanation.

Now, do I have a problem how the show is currently treating Jasper? No, not really. Not anymore. I’ve become jaded by her absence and I can stand to wait a little longer if I have to. I would love to see her as soon as possible, but I don’t think her presence...fits with the movie. I mean, she’s still technically an antagonist. Nothing has been resolved with her.

Do I have a problem with Lapis and Bismuth’s miraculously friendly relationship, despite the fact that Bismuth poofed Lapis, which inadvertently led to her being trapped in the mirror for thousands of years? No, because Rebecca confirmed today at SDCC that Lapis doesn’t know that our Bismuth was the one who poofed her (it also confirms that that was our Bismuth, which was never explicitly stated previously).

With that out of the way, I begin.

It all starts 5750 years ago, when Blue Diamond showed up with her entourage to deal with Rose Quartz and her “small but persistent” rebellion, which was basically just her and Pearl wrecking shit. Among her entourage is a gem that looks like Lapis, same gem placement, hair shape, everything.

Lapis claims in Same Old World that “we” (suggesting she was a part of group) “were only supposed to visit for a short time” (meaning Blue Diamond expected to capture Rose Quartz quickly), so it fits in with the previous assumption. She goes on to say “but we got caught in the middle of the war.”

Keep in mind that the rebellion prior to the events in The Answer consisted only of Rose/Pink and Pearl, the only gem she could trust. Pink was fight solely for the Earth and it’s organic inhabitants against gemkind. After she met Garnet, she realized that gems like her are also worth fighting for, so she would have likely started accepting more gems into her group, starting with Garnet. More gems means stronger forces, and stronger forces of gems who have been abused by Homeworld in ways Pink probably wasn’t even aware of meant a bad time for Homeworld. Rose’s little rebellion grew into an all out war.

Peridot says in Beta that “halfway through the rebellion, Homeworld scrambled to generate extra soldiers on the ground.” The rebellion began ~6000 years ago and ended a thousand years later, so halfway would have been ~5500 years ago, which is when Jasper was born. Well, that’s when she started fighting against the Crystal Gems, according to the Guide to the Crystal Gems, but considering Eyeball said that Jasper “came out with [her] helmet on and shattered 80 Crystal Gems before the sun went down!” I think we can reasonably assume Jasper was born in the middle of a battle.

5500 years ago also lines up with the Lapis’ claim that she was “caught in the middle of the war,” a quote that corresponds with the lower image of the two above. 5500 years ago is 250 years after the events of The Answer. To spare you any more unnecessary elaboration, my theory is that the Crystal Gems grew rapidly after Rose met Garnet, and Blue Diamond employed her own entourage to help create more Homeworld soldiers on Earth. The Beta kindergarten strongly resembles Antelope Canyon, which is shaped by yearly flooding, so I’d say Lapis is pretty qualified to help cut this kindergarten.

As you can see, the top image shows Lapis in a green landscape, corresponding with her first assertion that she was “only supposed to visit for a short time.” The second image, meant to be the same location, it rocky and barren, telltale signs of a kindergarten that has sucked the life from the surrounding area. There is also the outline of what appears to be an injector in the bottom right corner and, most obviously,a group of Jaspers running in the background. Immediately after this image, a couple of the Jaspers actually explode into shards. Not poofed, because there is no orange smoke. Only a bright flash of light and bits of rock, whether from the gem or from the ground, flying up into the air.

Here’s when Jasper was poofed for reference.

So, it wasn’t just a battle...it was massacre. Sure, Jasper “took out” more than her fair share of Crystal Gems, and I’m sure her fellow Betas had few scruples over shattering the gems that were attacking them fresh out of the ground, but from how Peridot was trashing it, saying it was “too small” and “obviously a total rush job,” I doubt it would have been hard to shatter them. The way she criticizes the shape and locations of the exit holes suggests that the vast majority of the Betas were defective, with Jasper being the overly perfect exception. We also have to consider who else was present.

As I mentioned before, Rebecca confirmed that this was our Bismuth. As we know, Bismuth isn’t opposed to shattering, not like Rose. While I don’t think she’s a ruthless murderer--after all, she didn’t damage Lapis’ gem here--she’s far from a passive fighter. Bismuth has led a life of hardship, and she was among gems who also led lives of hardship, and Beta was Homeworld’s newest military tactic. To quote Greg, “there’s no such thing as a good war.” That’s only bolstered by the fact that the first time Beta was even mentioned was in It Could Have Been Great, when Peridot pointed it out as the Cluster’s insertion point. You know, THE CLUSTER, as in the gigantic ball of gem shards deep in the Earth’s mantle? That Cluster. Beta is where it was inserted into the ground, which implies that there was such an excess of gem shards that, combined, they could eventually create an entity that would destroy the planet just by forming. I’m sorry, that just...it’s truly upsetting.

That being said, I believe that this is one of the reasons Beta hasn’t been talked about in the show yet, besides via Peridot’s third-party perspective. She didn’t even exist then. It isn’t something anyone wants to talk about, whether out of shame or grief. Many, many gems on both sides were likely shattered there.

SO, what does all of this mean?

It means that no, I don’t think Jasper is being shafted, although I do with they would have addressed all of this earlier, at least some of it. I think the right time hasn’t happened yet, and that nothing has been resolved. Lapis doesn’t know who Bismuth really is, so there really isn’t anything to resolve until they start talking about what happened at Beta which, as I mentioned, doesn’t seem like the sort of thing the gems who experienced it would bring up in casual conversation. It would be a heavy topic.

And as I’ve speculated, I seriously doubt Jasper took the news about Pink Diamond well. She has a history of running off on her own, and Beta is the only logical location for her to go at this point. It was where she was made, and it’s not a place where anyone else is bound to go, given it’s history. I believe this is where the Beta discussion will begin: when they specifically go out looking for Jasper and she reveals the awful truth of the place. That will lead to discussion of Lapis and Bismuth’s involvement, as well as Bismuth’s inadvertent responsibility for Lapis’ suffering.

Unlike before, we’re now in a position where we can hear all three sides of the story. Bismuth is unbubbled, is on friendly terms with everyone, and has made peace with what happened with Rose. Lapis no longer has an incentive to run away, now that the Diamonds aren’t threats, and has time to settle into the family dynamic. Jasper is uncorrupted, but otherwise at her most vulnerable, now that she knows that Rose Quartz, the gem that basically ruined her life, was also the gem jasper has wanted to avenge since she was “shattered.” She won’t do anything to hurt Steven, now that she knows who he really is, and he’s more likely to get an honest answer out of her. Think of all the backstory that was necessary to get to this point and you will find that they really couldn’t have done this any earlier without taking away from it.

So, while I am dying to see Jasper again, I don’t want her to be in the movie. I want them to save her for season 6, when we can have a proper arc for her, like she deserves, and I want Bismuth and Lapis to be a part of this arc. I want them to shed some light on Beta.