#Zircon fic

[zirkkun]

i have been working on one singular fanfic, which is going on 50k+ words atm, since like the beginning of December and this is all i have to show of the plot atm please take my offering

[wholesome-cryptid]

Hey!!! Went wrote a fic about my Latios oc Zircon!!! i'd really appreciate it if you checked it out!!! it's basically an origin story of how he and Steven met!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62044975

[mangosmoothies]

Omg ugh tumblrs breaking for me!!!

[tartaruga-cosmica]

still fucking love that first one. reblogging because I can

them........................................................................................ if 35 year-old man, why babygirl shaped (feat. a scene from my Muses fic on Ao3)

[wholesomecryptidart]

Zircon Info Post!!!

aka: Hey, what's with that Latios you keep drawing Steven with?

So if you've seen this blog in this past couple months it's highly likely you've seen art of this guy, a Latios named Zircon who i often draw with Steven Stone, but I realize that not everyone coming across my blog may know what his deal is, and so i've decided to put together a post explaining his lore as of March 8th 2025!

Zircon is one half of the Lati duo encountered by the player in ORAS, with my verse taking inspiration from Alpha Sapphire in that Team Aqua tried to capture his sister April and he reached out to Steven and May for help rescuing her. Much like in the plot of the game his sister ends up joining May's team and he kinda goes off to do his own thing for a little while.

He doesn't end up joining Steven's team until after the events of the delta episode, when Steven has started to question himself and is wanting to step down from champion to do some soul searching. It's around this same time Zircon starts to feel lonely without his sister around all the time, and doesn't know what to do with himself either, and he decides to search out that kind man who helped him out, and he asks Steven to let him travel with him as thanks. Steven is, very caught off guard by the offer, but in the end agrees.

(pssst i wrote a fic about this interaction)

Steven and Zircon's story in my head primarily follows the two of them traveling across different regions, and having a bit of a pokémon journey alongside Steven's other pokemon, and the hijinks that come from the ex champion of Hoenn suddenly having a legendary pokemon on him out of nowhere. The two eventually develop a very close bond and Zircon is basically a part of the family by the end of everything.

If you have any questions or curiosity please don't be afraid to ask!!! i love info dumping about this guy! He's a very dear and special oc to me right now! I thought it was wild i had never seen anyone expand on the fact Steven was associated two separate Lati side quests and so i decided to play with the idea myself.

His Toyhouse

[saintbrown]

Idea for a Steven Universe AU fic:

Pink Prince AU

Here’s how it goes:

During the gem war, sometime before what would have been Bismuth’s bubbling, Rose watches Pearl be shattered in the middle of a battle and is overwhelmed with rage. She lets go of every restraint she has imposed on herself since she lost her original pearl and unleashes her destructive powers on the opposing army, turning the tides of war in a matter of minutes, as well as shapeshifting back into Pink Diamond in the process. When Blue and Yellow Diamond come down to Earth to reprimand her, Pink, no longer feeling any sort of emotion towards them, attacks them too, bouncing off Yellow’s destabilizing attacks and shrugging off Blue’s emotional ones, calling them too weak in comparison to her own turmoil. She sends them both back to Homeworld, telling them that if they ever come back, they will be shattered.

After the battle, the Crystal Gems are divided, between a majority like Garnet and Bismuth, who feel betrayed by Pink’s lies and blame her for the death of Pearl (as well as many others), and a minority that decides to stay by her side, along side most of her court from Homeworld (who turned sides after the revelation) and the humans that survived the battle. Garnet and Bismuth lead their group to a place far away where they can start over, which would later be called Beach City. Meanwhile, in the time it took for Pink to grieve everything she had lost, the gems and humans that stayed started a kingdom around her and asked her to be their Queen, a position she accepts reluctantly.

Cut to 5,400 years later and Pink’s new kingdom is thriving. It’s rivers are overflowing with the Diamond’s lacrimal essence, which means it’s people have never seen a day of disease in their lives and the ground is the most fertile that the Earth has ever seen. The Queen’s close circle consists of a Zircon who serves as her political advisor, a Jasper who, once her deadliest enemy, is now her most loyal soldier and captain of the guard, as well as Jasper’s squire, the last Amethyst that the Prime Kindergarten ever produced.

One day, a musician rolls into town, a man by the name of Greg Universe. Usually, the thick forest that surrounds the kingdom (which Pink raised to prevent invading armies from reaching her kingdom (and being decimated by Jasper)) would only grant safe passage to her citizens, and yet Mr. Universe’s peaceful nature and harmonious melodies lead him straight to the gates, just as he runs out of gas. Without a gas station in sight, Greg has to stay put while his car is adapted to be solar powered, just like every other vehicle in the kingdom, and Pink takes the opportunity to get to know the outsider that her forest deemed worthy. Once it’s time for Greg to leave, he decides not to as he has already fallen in love with Pink. The two fall deeper in love every day they are together until finally, Pink gives up her physical form and the Pink Prince is born: Steven Universe.

As he grows up, Steven is trained by Jasper and Amethyst to be just as strong as his mother, while Zircon teaches him to be just as wise (she also serves as the kingdom’s regent until Steven is ready to take up the throne). During a history lesson, Zircon brings out a mirror that is meant to give the prince a visual aid. One thing leads to another and Steven releases a Lapis Lazuli that runs away and takes all of the kingdom’s water with her. Steven, Jasper, Amethyst, Zircon and Greg set out to recover their most precious resource and as they arrive at the water tower that Lapis has erected, the group realizes that they aren’t the only ones there. From the opposite direction, approach a Bismuth, a Ruby and a Sapphire.

After the Lapis situation is resolved, having learned of his mom’s past before the kingdom, Steven decides that the best way to become just as great a ruler as her is to learn about all facets of her life, even Rose Quartz. So he starts using the warp pad on a regular basis to visit the Crystal Gems, in Beach City.

[sylver-drawer]

The Abandoned Princess [WMMAP x TAE]

Original Fic written by Helxium | Rewrite/Continuation (with permission) by SylverDrawer

“In desperation, Jennette revealed herself at the ball only to be cast aside, spiraling a fight between him and Viscount Patterson. After her world shatters, Anastasius sends Jennette away with his dying breath. When she wakes up, however, she finds she is no longer in the empire of Obelia—but the empire of Castina. Thrust into a world of strangers far from what she once called her home, perhaps she may come to know what it truly means to be a family.”

(2/?) Chapter Two | In front of me, a fogged up mirror.

Previous Chap | Next Chap

Most of Jennette's memories of the Alpheus manor were cold. When she was younger, her room was located at the far ends of the main mansion, for reasons she didn't quite understand until she was older. Her room was spacious—large, to the point where her little voice echoed inside, filled with dolls and toys—but, it was too much for a child her age. At the time, she was too young for a tutor. Her old nanny, Kristina, assisted her when needed but would not spare a warm gaze or smile; her dearest uncle hardly visited her; and despite how much she adored her, the Duchess' failing health lessened her visits. It was only natural she clung to Ijekiel—he, who was the only one who could bring her outside to the gardens, where the sun shone warmly against her skin. But even then, that echoing room remained empty, her only source of warmth being outside of it. When he didn't visit, however, she found herself ultimately... alone.

The only one capable of filling that large and cold room with warmth, was a woman as gorgeous as a rose.

"Jennette." Her tone was always firm, a bit snappy, but tender. The woman's long, and slender fingers wove through her thin brunette strands, braiding her locks slowly. Though Jennette could not see her fingers from the mirror in front of her, she could feel them—how her long and well-kept nails lightly scraped the back of her neck every now and then, the way her fingers carefully brushed through her chestnut hair—though she dare not say those words, Jennette could feel her sincere "I love you"s with every tentative touch.

The little girl tilted her head slightly, making sure not to interrupt her aunt's masterpiece. "Yes, Auntie?"

It was days like this where Jennette felt just a bit of that love the Duke had promised. People never seemed to go out of their way to spend time with her after all, so when someone did, it was always special. Rosalia was special like that to Jennette—to that little girl, whose life revolved around her love for her family. In the mirror, much too big for a seven year old, Jennette's twinkling zircon eyes met with green. The Countess' eyes were sharp and cat-like, dark brown lashes casting a feathery shadow over her irises—irises that resembled peridots, raw with uneven cuts that chipped along the edges. Short brunette hair, just slightly darker than Jennette's, fell over her shoulders in springy curls. When she was younger, she loved playing with them—despite how unladylike it was—and her aunt would let her. Sometimes, it looked like she even enjoyed it. Unlike the small, private portrait by the girl's bedside however, there was no beauty mark in sight upon those high cheekbones or beside those rosy thin lips. Rosalia was not her mother, she knew, but sometimes she'd pretend she was—though she would never say that out loud, nestling those thoughts deep inside her heart.

In the mirror, above the girl's visage, the older woman smiled. She lowered her head, just above Jennette's shoulder, and met the girl's cheek with hers. Jennette beamed, as a warmth filled her cheeks. It felt nice, that closeness shared only between family.

"Be a dear, and stay like this forever? My lovely Jennette."

"Ok!"

Jennette's bright response was instantaneous, so much so that Rosalia couldn't help but smile. It wasn't her usual sharp or joyful smile, the little girl observed carefully. The curve upon her lips was more thin, pressed together tightly and her aunt's eyebrows were angled upwards, furrowed slightly. Those eyes, like cracked peridots, were murky like the morning fog—she couldn't quite explain it, but they seemed a bit sad.

"If only you could, dear girl. Stay as you are, foolish and lovely."

Those words lingered in her mind, and the girl's jeweled eyes narrowed, arching an eyebrow unconsciously. Foolish? Isn't that a bad thing? The juxtaposition of those words confused her. How could one be both lovely and foolish?

Rosalia let out a hearty laugh, pulling her face away to finish tidying up her niece's hair, pulling the ribbon into a bow.

"Don't think too hard about it, darling. It's the best a girl can be in this cruel world—foolish, and beautiful."

Even after Countess Rosalia's passing, Jennette still didn't quite understand it—those solemn words of hers. As the darkness consumes her, she gets it now. Oh, how she wished she'd returned to the time where she didn't—maybe then, it wouldn't hurt as much, and she'd be left with only the confusion instead of the pain. The heavy, pungent scent of iron—a dripping, thick and oxidized red—fractured jewels, polished to perfection, sharp enough to stab, twisting into your gut—and a stone of similar properties, glassy, reflecting her image, clear and true. They fog up, like a mirror after a steaming bath, and his lips moving—what is he saying?

You promised yourself not to forget—not to ever forget, Jennette, so what is it—what were the words he said, what his face looked like, the day when everything ended?

"... ey... k, up!"

No, that wasn't it. That doesn't even sound like him. Too brazen, and rough—boyish, but not like Ijekiel, no.

A sharp pain, one that lingered with an ice cold sting. For just a moment, the name 'Ijekiel' hurt. Why did it hurt, so? Ijekiel had his moments, but he was always good to her. The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, though she can't quite remember why—it's all fuzzy, and all she remembers is the pain.

Everything hurts, a slow, aching soreness. It was only for a second, but she manages to open her eyes and she sees—aquamarine. But not the same aquamarine as theirs, no—not cracked or jeweled, but sharp and true like a fresh spring. A bright blue, like the free and open sky, and... is that red? Red. Not that putrid, disgusting crimson no—like crisp apples, sweet and bold. But her eyelids feel heavy again, and so everything turns dark.

All of her senses are numb, but she still feels, somewhat. It blurs together—vibrations, as if she's on a bumpy road. She's moving a lot, Jennette feels, but not on her own—more like she's being handed over and passed along like some doll—careful hands, wary, before she's finally put to rest on something soft. It feels like her bed at the Alpheus manor, perhaps even softer against her sore muscles and bruised skin. Is that what it is? Yes. It must be. Everything that happened was all just a bad dream—a nightmare.

Her finger twitches—Jennette's eyebrows furrowing, before her eyelids slowly flutter open once more. What was it—that nightmare-like experience, again?

As the pieces of her consciousness pull together gradually, what Jennette makes sense of first is the smell. Perfume? No, not quite. There's a slight roughness to it, a bitter depth paired with the floral accents, almost like firewood. Lavender... incense? The Alpheuses never used incense. The Duke's nose was sensitive to smell, so anything smoky was out of question. Even if it was an odd scented perfume, she knew it didn't belong to her. Jennette was given a few perfumes, especially since her debutante, but never really used them—lavender wasn't a scent she owned.

More murmurs, ones that seemed to quiet as she felt herself stir. Emerging from the darkness, Jennette sees a ceiling from under her eyelashes. It's a dark, wine red color. That's... definitely not the color of her ceiling. Has there ever been a red ceiling within the Alpheus estate? She can't remember. One thing's for sure, Jennette knew—she wasn't in her bed.

"Whe... re...?" The girl couldn't even recognize her own voice. Calling it a voice was a bit overkill—it was scratchy, more like a halfhearted whisper, the words flowing out in a dry rasp. She parted her lips—cracked and dry, finding it difficult to swallow.

"Dear, call his Holiness back in. She's awake."

In the haze, Jennette hears voices—clearer, this time, deep and masculine, but a bit hearty. It reminded her of the previous Alpheus chef, a tall and large man of color who looked more like a mercenary than a cook. But, he was warm and didn't mind teaching a little lonely girl like her how to cook. She doesn't know why she's remembering them now, the few staff who had been attentive to her in her youth. They left the Alpheus manor years ago. Yet, why does she hold such trivial acts of kindness so close to her heart now?

"It is your fate to be unloved."

A cold chill washes over her skin, those words resounding in her ears and echoing in her heart. Who said those words—those cruel words to her, again?

Too weak to turn her head, crimson eyes look down upon her. Jennette's eyes lose focus at the sight, until she realizes the neatly parted hair was not obsidian—but a bright red, like flame. Crimson eyes, eyes that always seemed to one-sidedly judge and look upon her in disgust, now looked upon her with curiosity.

"You're finally awake, child." Jennette's eyes regain focus, zircon meeting crimson. He blinks. "My—it seems Sein wasn't lying about those eyes."

The man's jaw was a bit broader than the Duke's, and despite how his voice rumbled, he seemed just a bit younger than him, too. Unlike the Duke's tired golden eyes that always hung from overwork and exhaustion, there was a certain youthful vigor that retained in this man's. Jennette furrowed her eyebrows. Who is this man, anyway?

Jennette tries to open her mouth to speak again, but all that comes out is another wheeze.

"Carsein," a feminine voice, firm with the slightest of snappiness, calls out and—oh. Jennette shifts her gaze only a little bit to see more of her surroundings, but a gorgeous woman of crystalline blue eyes and neatly done up aqua hair turns her head—exposing her pronounced jawline, and high cheekbones. Her side profile is stunning, how her mystical blue eyelashes—thin—shadow her sharp, cat-like eyes and tinted thin lips. Obelia has a lot of pretty people, but it's the first time Jennette has seen someone who's stood out like her. Dare she say, Jennette could almost say her beauty alone was on par with the royal family's. If the Obelia's were a scalding desert guarded by the sun, she was an oasis after a deceptive mirage. The brunette was so enraptured, how the woman takes steady steps closer to her, that Jennette hardly noticed when a glass gently hit against her parted teeth. "Drink—it'll help with the dryness."

A firm, yet almost tender command that brings a certain sense of familiarity within the girl, so Jennette complies immediately. Jennette parts her lips more, tipping her head back as water slowly fills her mouth. The woman is tilting it slowly, making sure she doesn't accidentally choke, and Jennette is thankful. It's cold flowing down her esophagus—lubricating the walls of her throat with some kind of film—and she can feel it travel into the pit in her stomach. The muscles in her throat seem to lock up, and Jennette sits up abruptly with a cough despite how careful the lady has been. A guilty feeling pricks at her chest as the woman pulls the glass away, setting it on the bedside table.

"S... Sorry," Jennette manages, weak, but at the very least coherent.

"Can you speak, child?" She nods in response to the woman's even-toned question. As the fog in her mind clears—a sense of clarity embracing her, finally—Jennette glances around to take in her surroundings completely. It's a large room—spacious and lavish, with a wine red ceiling and black wallpaper, engraved with gold swirls and vine-like patterns—on par, if not more luxurious than the Alpheus' guest rooms. They're quite opposite—this mansion and the Alpheus'—with dark and bold paint, contrasting the soft Ducal browns and muted golds. Yet, somehow it feels very reflective of their owners—the firm and bold voices of this man and woman, compared to the cold and negligent quiet of Alpheus. Despite the complete differences, she can tell with just a glance—the detail in the furniture and architecture, and the softness of the bed she's sitting on—wherever she is, it's of similar standing to the Alpheus'.

Flickering her gazes between them, she makes note of the people in the room. There are only five—one, entering from the doorway with silent steps that brush against the floor—a young man with long and flowing hair, clad in silken robes as unblemished as his similar snow-white hair. Lingering by the doorway, are a pair—a young man, most resembling the middle aged man she had first woken up to, with crimson eyes and hair like flame; and a boy with similar bright red hair, a bit younger, seemingly about Ijekiel's height and age with more of a boyish disposition. His eyes though, unlike the older with a contemplative and quiet shadowed gaze, was a bright and glassy blue, just like the noblewoman's.

Jennette paused, finding herself staring at the youngest with furrowed eyebrows and slightly narrowed eyes. She couldn't quite place it, a bit of the haze still lingering in her mind—a feeling of familiarity, yet unfamiliarity. She's never met him before, but why did he seem familiar?

As the brunette peered absentmindedly at him, Carsein scowled.

"What?" He spat out, a frown etched onto his face. The sudden hostility surprised Jennette, pulling her away from her muddling thoughts. "Got something to say? You know—you've got a lot of nerve, pulling that kind of stunt on private property and so close to the ceremony, too. What, were you trying to catch a peek? Or maybe you just wanted atten—"

The young man next to him, the carbon copy of what Jennette assumes to be their father, presses his lips together tightly while smacking the back of his head—not too hard from what Jennette could see, but definitely hard enough to have its recipient exclaim a strangled noise of shock.

"Don't mind him," he says, smiling vaguely with apologetic eyes. Jennette couldn't help but blink, staring blankly while trying to process everything. A million questions began to bubble inside her mind—just where exactly was she?

Before Jennette could muster anything else, an eerily gentle hand cups her face and directs her gaze over. The noblewoman had stepped aside, in her place the mysterious man with long white hair. She finds herself staring into them—those milky, aimless eyes that somehow reflect her entire being. An ominous feeling buds in her chest, suffocating her as he brings himself closer, and all she can see is her swirling reflection—yet, despite the fear creeping upon her, a sense of familiarity overwhelms her too. A similar set of unfocused eyes, that even in their lost state, never flinch away from her visage.

"Why, indeed."

It all comes back to her, crashing like a hurricane at once, flashing in her mind. The putrid stench of iron that stung her eyes—fingers forced through rotting flesh—an unfeeling, unmoving pair of ambers—cold, venom filled eyes that gleamed like polished gems—a wary, avoidant jeweled gaze that dare not look at her—a dark storm, hands made of shadows reaching out desperately and—

His smile—weak, but true—dripping with oxidized crimson, before being engulfed in a prism of lights.

Jennette feels her blood flow, heat pumping in her veins as a cold sweat rushes over her skin and she pushes the man away in panic. Her newly regained voice falls apart into incoherent sputters—scrambling away towards the middle of the mattress, digging her fingers into the comforter—and her cubic zircon eyes, cracked like fragile glass, tremble.

"Wh—I—where, where am—Father, where is—gh...—!"

The pitiful girl's voice fades in and out, her lips paling in color as they grow cold with her tremors. While the Rass family glances warily at each other—the high priest, in his ethereal glory, sits calmly with his hands folded.

"It is as I thought."

His voice, calm and flowing like water, cuts through the uneasy silence and Jennette's wide, shaken eyes focus on his silhouette.

"Wh, what?"

The high priest only smiles, tilting his head. "You aren't of this world, are you, my dear?"

Jennette's mind goes astray, unable to wrap her mind around his words, her fingers clenching fistfuls of the blanket.

"What are—what are you talking about?"

"Yes. Elaborate please, High Priest," the older man, what Jennette identifies as the head of this house through her panicked haze, says in a level tone uncharacteristically—as if lowering his voice to calm her. The milky-eyed man, the supposed 'High Priest', merely shakes his head softly.

"Even that, it is difficult to convey." He closes his eyes, a tranquil smile on his face. "Her life force—the life that Vita gives all—is... different, from ours. Different from the lives Vita blesses us with. I've never seen such before—it is as if Vita has never once laid a finger upon her existence."

Those eyes, aimless and marbled—how clearly they peer into Jennette's being, as if staring right into her core. There is a strange look in his eyes, some eerie mix of wonder and excitement—a look one doesn't normally have when talking about an abnormality. It's as if he's tearing into her—piece by piece—dissecting parts of her Jennette didn't even know herself. He smiles, curved ends of his thin lips spreading upwards almost sinisterly.

"It truly is a wonder, how Vita has allowed something... completely unlike himself, to venture into his beloved world." He clasps his hands together, tilting his head innocuously as he stands up. "But, if Vita deems it harmless... I welcome you, dear guest from another world."

It. Jennette's skin crawls, a chill teetering up in her skin. Her zircon eyes cloud, dimming as they lower under her feathered eyelashes, recalling the magician's cruel, dehumanizing gaze. Ah. I see. The head of the household shares a glance with his wife, knowingly. Sighing out of her nose, the noblewoman of aquamarine approaches the bed again, sitting upon the edge.

"Why don't you tell us about yourself, child." Duchess Rass tilts her head, speaking in a clear, level voice. "Your name, where you came from, and what you remember."

"Name..." Jennette repeats it softly to herself, as her breathing steadies. "Jenn—Jennette Mar..."

Jennette, what? She doesn't think she knows anymore. The Judith name died the day her aunt did, and 'Jennette Margarita' was a fake existence from the beginning. When she was younger, she wondered if she would be named 'Jennette Alpheus' if she was supposed to marry Ijekiel, as she was told she would. Women always married into their husband's families, after all. As the years passed, the name 'Jennette Alpheus' had long left her mind the colder those amber eyes became. She clung to the other identity she was promised, 'Jennette de Alger Obelia'—but that, too, was also a lie, wasn't it? A lie the bane of her existence was based upon. Jennette's eyes glazed over, and she bit her trembling lip. Was she anything, anymore? Was she anything to begin with?

"... Just," Jennette swallowed, lifting her gaze to meet the noblewoman's. "Just Jennette."

Erina peered into her eyes, wistfully. She glances over to her husband, another look of understanding, before he too, approaches—a bold grin upon his face, a hint of amused mischief.

"Well then, 'Just Jennette'," he teases—smiling broadly—circling around the bed to the other side. He cocks his head, "Tell us about it—this 'world', you've come from, and how you got here."

"I..." Jennette finds her words unraveling unconsciously, spinning without knowing where it would go. She avoids his gaze, bitterly recalling the events that transpired—the blood, the lights... "I don't understand. Am I... truly not in Obelia?"

Vividly, the flash of the blade falls down. She doesn't understand. Just moments ago—just moments ago, she was in that ballroom. That nightmare—that hell. Was that a dream? Was that even real? Is this even real? Or is she actually...

"... I think she's crazy," Carsein mumbles, earning a hard nudge from his brother. "I know you thought it, too! Overia? Ovelia? Never heard of such a place."

Another hard nudge.

"How can you have never heard of it? Obelia—it's," Jennette trails off, desperately, furrowing her eyebrows. "The Obelian Empire, rich with history, priding itself with magic—the sun, it's ever shining and rarely cold even in the dead of winter. It's located in the westernmost continent, bordering the South-Eastern country of Siodonna and North-Western kingdom of Arlanta..."

As she gazes upon their faces, flickering between them, the anxious dread begins to consume her as not a single look of understanding crosses their faces.

"Surely... you must have, at least, heard of those two as well, right...?" There's a certain fragility to her voice, as if it were a thread about to fall through. The sweat upon her cheeks and forehead grow cold, and she finds her mouth running dry. "My—My lo... brother, Ijekiel he—he studied in Arlanta, known for their knowledge and scholars, for years... surely..."

The head of the Rass family gestured to his oldest, who left and soon returned with something in his hands. Cautiously, Kaysian approached the brunette on the bed, and carefully laid out the large, tinted parchment—still new.

"Can you point it out...?" He asks, quiet in his speech and manner. From the sidelines, Carsein presses his lips together lopsidedly in a sour expression. Jennette drags herself over, scrambling towards it with effort, and staring intently at it with a worn out face. Back and forth, her eyes scan the large paper laminated in some kind of wax, carefully scanning every inked letter—and her face pales, realizing she can't understand a thing.

"I—" Her fingers dig into the comforter, her head dropping. "I can't... read?"

She's been able to understand these strangers' words completely fine, but this writing—this alphabet is entirely alien to her. Jennette may not have been a genius like Athanasia, or smart like Ijekiel—but she was still educated as a lady from the most prominent dukedom of the empire, for goodness sakes. She may have not been empress material, but she was no fool—she knows what foreign letters look like, even if she may not completely understand them. From Saicanian, to Pascal—though difficult, she's read them over and over to where they at least look familiar. The way the symbols curve—the scribbles, the unevenness of the lines, almost geometric yet still messy—they're completely unrecognizable.

"What..." her voice trails off, weak, as her lower lip trembles. "What is this? Code? I..."

The high priest watches carefully, with a look you could almost call pity, quietly repeating, as if consoling her, "I said so, did I not? My dear—you are of a different world."

Jennette's eyes sting, and she feels her eyes begin to well up with tears. No, she mustn't cry. She's been through so, so much worse than this—she can't break now, not now of all times.

"It's the world map, dear," Erina's voice is firm, observing carefully as she places a hand on her eldest, gesturing for him to take it away. "You are presently in the Empire of Castina—the largest empire in the westernmost continent."

Castina. Jennette could almost laugh. She's never heard of such a name in her life. It's as if she had traveled through some mirror—where Obelia was replaced entirely by some other place, with some other name.

"This must be a joke, right...?" Jennette looks up to the family of four, zircon eyes glassy and tired. "If what happened wasn't a dream—then this, surely, is the dream. Instead of magic, is it holy power here? What—does the royal family of Castina have jeweled hair, rather than jeweled eyes?"

Erina's eyes narrow. "Watch your tongue, girl. Though you may be foreign, your words can still be taken as offense to the royal family."

She didn't know what was worse—dying in Obelia, by the hands of people she thought would love her, or dying here—wherever 'here' is, where she never existed in the first place.

"Honestly, be glad we're not offended with your trespassing into a Duke's territory," Carsein's snarky words come, before being elbowed by his brother on his way out. Rather than a threat, it just makes Jennette huff out a laugh incredulously, the boy misunderstanding and stiffening in response. This really is some alternate universe, isn't it? Instead of waking up in the cold Alpheus Duchy, she's now trespassing in another.

"Ah yes, by Lord Carsein's reminder—" The boy grumbles at suddenly being addressed by the high priest. He turns his milky eyes toward the house's head, an uncanny smile upon his lips with a knowing look. The two men in power lock eyes for a moment, an unspoken exchange between them. "—what will it be, Duke Rass?"

The crimson eyed Duke hums to himself thoughtfully, for a moment, dwelling in his own mysterious smile.

"What, indeed, High Priest."

The aqua haired noblewomen turns her head, whipping it in her husband's direction with narrowed eyes.

"Arkint," she hisses, standing up from the side of the bed. "Don't tell me, you plan to—"

"Well, my dearest Erina," he chuckles, straightening his posture as he rises from the bed. He strides over to his wife, pulling her closer by her waist. "Aren't you delighted? After countless of daughterless years, you will finally—"

"Hah?!" Jennette flinches, the youngest's voice exploding in an outburst. Carsein's distasteful opinions on the matter come out, loud and clear. It was already irritating enough that his parents were just gonna let this random girl loose after causing a ruckus and trespassing—but now they're planning on letting her live there? Are they not even suspicious in the slightest? Carsein's eyes flicker to the girl's visage, who seems to shrivel under his sharp gaze. He isn't sure if he believes the high priests' words—another world? That's ridiculous. He'd almost prefer if she was some incessant fan—at the very least, they could send her off and be done with it. Worst case scenario, she's a nutjob garnering for attention, and even if the priest is telling the truth—why do the Rasses need to be the ones to deal with her?

"Sein," his brother's hand pokes in from beyond the doorway, grabbing at his younger brother's shoulder. His head falls next to his, mumbling something into the younger's ear—something she can't really make out. A pointed scowl, eyebrows furrowed with a lopsided frown before both of the men's eyes flicker over to her, and Jennette can tell—no matter how hushed they are about it, their apprehension is obvious.

Jennette scoots over toward the edge of the bed, eyes cast down into her lap as she begins to push herself up.

"I—" her voice is thick, eyes wavering. "It's alright. I can, I can make it on my own."

It's a boldface, obvious lie. Just a minute ago, she proved that she couldn't even read. The dread that's been engulfing her chest, heavy and aching—she sees now. Whether it was in Obelia, or here in 'Castina'—she would be alone, naively wandering a world that never wanted her. A thought, dangerous and grim, crosses her mind for a split moment—if she's going to be unwanted no matter where she goes, perhaps it is better to die.

"—shall I send you to hell with him?"

"No—not together."

A single flame of defiance flickers in her heart, as her eyes begin to sting. How could she think of such a thing, after what she had just gone through? She doesn't understand what happened, or what happened to her—but her father's clear smile haunts her mind, and the warmth of his mana wrapped around hers. A small shadow begins to unravel inside her chest, before she's gently pushed back onto the bed by firm hands on her shoulders. Jennette darts her gaze upwards, back into the high priests' eyes.

"We can't have that, now can we, dear guest?" There's a gleam in his eyes, reminiscent of the magician's. "How you ended up in a tree of the Rass Dukedom, I do not know—but Vita has a reason for everything."

A tree? Oh. That explains the soreness, she thinks absentmindedly. His pleasant smile has a hint of eeriness, patting her shoulders once before letting go.

"Regardless of your... origins, and how you came to be here, the fact you are a guest of the lord does not change." He steps away, looking over his shoulder. "And as God's special guest, we must welcome you accordingly."

Guest of the lord... is it? A ghost of a small, sad smile as she recalls the black tower wizard's berations. God sent her here? No—Jennette rejects the thought. Such a case is impossible. If it were some greater being or deity, it was surely the devil—what else would spare the life of a wretched, cursed creature like her? A little girl, fated to be unloved by all—if not to take advantage of a human's kindness with her black magic. The high priest, quiet as he observes her conflicted expressions, shares a look with the Duke—his wife giving him a pointed stare before his shoulders drop in a sigh. Duke Rass rubs his wife's shoulder before gesturing to her and his children.

"Let us give Just Jennette a bit of space. I'm sure this news is just as a shock to her as it is to us," he smiles while meeting her Zircon eyes, letting her teasing nickname linger. "In the meantime, we can discuss this issue more in depth, between the family."

The High Priest leaves first, smiling in Jennette's direction, before disappearing behind the wall. One by one, the Rasses leave, a bit colder than the one before them. Last is the youngest, the boy with marbling, sky blue eyes and apple red hair—a bit messy in an almost spiked manner. His eyes are sharper than Ijekiel's, blunt as they bore holes into her. They narrow, and his lips thin into a scowl.

"I don't trust you."

His words are clear cut, and cold with the slightest of resentment. Rejection. Jennette can't help but smile, soft and sad, even a bit bitter, at the familiarity.

"..."

The door closes shut, loudly, in an irritated slam. Jennette slides against the side of the bed, collapsing next to it. A shaken sigh escapes her—trembling in her throat as she closes her eyes—before hugging her knees tightly. A large, cold, empty room—much too big for a girl her size. There's no false comfort of dolls or stuffed rabbits for her to cradle and hold in her arms—all she has is herself, and the memory she'd burnt into her soul.

"Father..."

Perhaps the devil did send her here—but couldn't he, at the very least, come along? Be it the devil, or god—at least she wouldn't be alone.

It's only then, when quiet, muffled sobs rattle Jennette's body, cutting through the room's frozen silence.

[obsessedfluffbutt]

Just posted the first chapter of my newest fic! Out in the Universe(title subject to change)

Kidnapped and taken to Homeworld, put on trial as the Rose Quartz, rebel, criminal, murderer. Could things get any worse? Probably. Could they get any better? Maybe.

The trial was a disaster. His lawyer had clearly been set up, the poor Zircon forced to defend him and terrified of her own potential shattering the entire time. At least Lars was okay, even if he was stuck sitting on the cold floor with a bubble around his head. It seemed as though he wouldn’t get the chance to say anything, to truly defend himself when Yellow Diamond claps her hands together, cheerily calling for his execution. That is until Blue Diamond decides she wants to hear what happened directly from him. She wants to know how his mom, how he shattered Pink Diamond.

He stands on the raised platform, fiddling with his fingers, nervous under the scrutiny of the two massive women. He can’t do this. He can’t pretend to be her, he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to take her punishment, he doesn’t want to die.

[zirkkun]

hazuki is a wild character (at least to me) in the sense that he was in literally only 2 scenes, one of which very short, and he feels so insanely important to the plot in a way where i desperately want to write about him but we have so very little info that i feel as though i am scraping up bread crumbs that are crushed into the earth for a semblance of something to work with

[cryptozoolliegy]

Fintro post!! (please excuse the pun)

HELLO!!! My name is Finn! Or Ollie! I'm a tranmasc queer teenage writer! I am also NEURODIVERGENT!!! I have diagnosed ADHD and a few other things hehe- I've also self-diagnosed some shit but I'm never gonna say which things I've self-diagnosed because if I do I will forever live in fear that people will think I'm doing it for attention-

FACT TIME!

I go by he/they/it!

I LOVE INDIE MUSIC AND ROCK MUSIC (WILL WOOD AND MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE ARE MY FAVORITE BANDS) (I ALSO FUCKING LOVE CHONNY JASH) (HE IS ALSO A FAVORITE)

Getting my schoolwork back on track!! :3

I like whump writing. Love it actually. Favorite tropes are Living Weapon whump, pet whump, and recovery from either of these hehe

I love rats. Rats are the best. I love them. This is reflected in my formal evilsona, who is literally genetically part rat. I love rats I love rats I love rats.

I'm the artist formerly known as lordcatwich- I changed it

Digital Artist and writer!

WIP SECTION!!

I have SO many WIPs you wouldn't BELIEVE

But I only have two main ones. HERE WE GO

Axerim!!

Two people who've practically been best friends since birth find themselves in the clutches of evil, evil people. This story is about the trauma that happens, mainly. But oh, how amazing it is.

Setting- Medieval Fantasy

MCs- Kirix (They/Them, 18) and Barlow (They/Them, 18)

Finleylore!!

@evil-lordcatwich 's traumatic backstory, featuring crazy companies and a rat. A child prodigy decides to persue villainy as a career- what could possibly go wrong?

Setting- Alternate timeline 2029

MCs- Doctor Finley Rose (He/Him/They, 14-21)

The Jashfic >:)

HMSW Gem AU fic!! My first attempt at an actual fanfic. Uh. Just. They're very sad and I can't think of how else to summarize this RN so-

Setting: A planet far, far away. Similar to Earth. Time unknown.

Characters: Taaffeite/Heart (He/They), Malachite/Mind (He/It), Zircon/Soul (He/Him), Tourmaline/Whole (He/They/It)

If you wanna get to know me or send me asks and stuff FEEL FREE I LOVE GETTING TO KNOW ONLINE PEOPLEEEEE

seeya sooooon :3

RP blogs:

@lordratwich

[shame-is-a-wasted-emotion]

Chapter 4 of 14 Stones Of A Curse is up!!

Chapter 4: Ruby Rendezvous (on AO3)

Fic Title:14 Stones Of A Curse

Rating:Explicit

Archive Warning:Major Character Death

Category:M/M

Fandoms:Glee,Glee Klaine,Klaine-Fandom

Relationship:Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel

Characters:

Blaine Anderson,Kurt Hummel,Burt Hummel,Sebastian Smythe,Finn Hudson,Sam Evans (Glee)

Chapter summary : Ruby ignites the fiery story of trust and friendship: seeds for the growing bright flame of love

You can read the rest of the chapters here 👇

Chapter 1: Prologue

Chapter 2: Opal Odyssey

Chapter 3: Zircon Zephyr

Written for the Klaie Valentine’s challenge 2024 by @klaineccfanficlibrary

Shout out to my betas @esperantoauthor and @england-would-fall for their unwavering support and editing. Thank you guys!!

Prompt of day 3: Sh-Boom by The Chords

[thefloatingwriter]

I feel like i submit a lot of asks so I apologise but oh my god do you have any more beetee and wiress thoughts individually or as a couple idm id be blessed with anything. I've never met someone who is also passionate about them and it makes me SO HAPPY

absolutely never apologize for sending me asks, especially if they’re about beetee and wiress. seriously they make me physically ill i’m so obsessed with them. honestly i just appreciate that i've found other people who are also insane about them!! send me as many asks as you want, i will always answer and i love you for them 💗💗

okay if you really want to hear me yap you should go to this post, which is basically every single thought i have ever had about district Three and all of its inhabitants. i am also working on my D3 tribute list, which is taking a lot of time and work since it’s really depressing to have to work on it but i’m working on it! <3

Beetee:

all of my beetee hcs and thoughts (well, most of them) will be compiled in my fic about him. but i’m sure i can think of some more without spoiling everything…

he really liked superheroes when he was younger. he thought that the idea of someone whose sole purpose in life was to save people was really cool.

he tends to hyper-focus on things when he’s stressed, agitated, or trying not to think about something.

his aunt on his mother’s side and uncle on his dad’s side both went into the hunger games, the 16th and the 14th respectively.

his hair can get really long during the off season or when he’s not in the Capitol. his prep team always has a heart attack over the “state he let his hair come to” as if he had let a bird lay eggs in it or something.

in relation to that: adeline sometimes braids it when she needs something to do with her hands.

in terms of victors, he was preceded by Paris Sanford of One and succeeded by Stella Fairchild of Four.

he’s particularly close with Paris (see this post!) honestly, their relationship is really important to the general plot of… everything basically.

Wiress:

she was considered a knife expert in Three, especially with throwing knives, due to it being an activity she performed at her mother’s circus. for obvious reasons, it helped her a lot in the games.

she got a training score of nine. the only reasons she wasn’t immediately chased by careers was because of the girl from seven’s training score of ten.

she has insanely long hair, like almost hitting the top of her thighs long. she had to crudely use a knife to chop most of it off during her first games, but she grew it back out after she won.

her district partner was her ex-boyfriend who had cheated on her. she refused to shake his hand when their escort told them to since she “didn’t know where his hand had been”.

she’s either dressed extremely regally with gowns and expensive jewelry and heels or she looks like she just rolled out of bed. there’s absolutely no in between.

she’s addicted to shitty capitol reality tv.

she’s preceded by Zircon (“Conner”) Lewis from One and succeeded by Wattson Amott from Five.

Beetee and Wiress:

the most important thing to remember about beetee and wiress’ relationship is that they started as the strangest situationship in the history of mankind.

half of the victors are also convinced they have never left this stage of their relationship, but a lot of the younger victors are like convinced that the two are just really good friends and haskell is just like ??? no???? it’s common knowledge that they’ve been fucking for like two decades?????

but anyways… wiress couldn’t sleep after her victory and for some reason beetee was the only person who made her feel safe enough to fall asleep for more than half an hour so they both started sleeping in the same house, same room, same bed… before they were even close to the romantic stage of their relationship.

wiress catches feelings because… well, it’s wiress. but beetee is completely emotionally repressed (we love that for him) so he just pretends he doesn’t notice.

beetee has a lot of trouble accepting love from anyone, and it takes him a few years before he gets used to the thought of anyone being in love with him. and, of course, it’s even more complicated in practice…

basically it takes them like nine years for beetee to finally be like “hey… i think i’m in love with you…” and of course wiress is completely flabbergasted by this while everyone else is like “that’s been painfully obvious for at least five years where have you been??”

i mentioned on a post a few days back that their relationship is really complicated in a lot of people’s eyes and here’s why: the capitol doesn't know they’re together. like at all. i mean snow does but snow knows everything so that’s obvious. but seriously there’s a running debate with beetee fans (you can not tell me that capitol citizens don’t have favorite victors bc i’m right) over if he’s dating anyone and if he is who. and then the top answers are always either paris or wiress… so those two fanbases just absolutely despise each other. and so everyone expects wiress and paris to hate each other… honestly it’s just a convoluted mess lol.

wiress wore her wedding ring during her interview for the 75th hunger games and the capitol absolutely went batshit over it. (and caesar flickerman probably lost like twenty years on his lifespan that night too lol).

then beetee follows her, talks about how the quell should be examined for legality for about five seconds, then just starts yapping about how amazing his wife is and caesar is just sitting there like 🪑😶.

thank you so much for the ask!! seriously never hesitate to come rant in my inbox, i love receiving asks especially if they’re about these weird scientists in love 💗💗

[asco-bisco]

SBG Steven Universe AU

my take on school bus graveyard au and what gems I think the characters would be. I also added weapons but I only thought of a concept for Ashlyn and aiden.

Ashlyn - I think she would be either a jasper or amethyst. My first idea was an over cooked ruby but rubies are low-class guards and I don’t want to put Ashlyn in that position but her being an over cooked ruby is part of a whole other idea I had in mind.

I think her falling under a guard role would fit best for her, in my opinion but I feel like there’s something I’m missing. Aside from that, I also think that her weapon would be something like Mega Pearl’s weapon because her doing ballet just makes me think of ribbons but I’m not sure.

Aiden - My original idea was for him to be a plain human since that’s his role in one of my fic ideas but if he were to be a gem, I think it would be a pearl. Making Aiden a low-class gem and an ‘object’ might be purely for character but I feel it fits. I think he would be a rebel like Pearl and not follow orders or break rules.

But he could also be an aquamarine, a gem assisting diamonds but also being granted freedom since they can fly from planet to planet and collect what they please.

His weapon I feel would be something like a dagger or a spear like Pearl, if we’re going with the pearl idea. Or maybe just a two sided dagger or spear.

Ben - I have three ideas for him, a sapphire, a morganite, or a pearl. Oh, and he has a cracked gem for all of them.

A morganite because they are gems in charge of architecture and are artistic gems but not much is known about them other than that and they are high-ranking gems.

A sapphire because I felt like it just fit. Also, my sister told me sapphires like to sing but I couldn’t find anything about that, I still think Ben should be a sapphire - it’s also for a whole toher idea I had in mind.

A pearl because they are known to serve the higher-ups and as stated earlier, they’re objects. In the Webtoon, Ashlyn thinks that Ben follows Aiden around because he doesn’t know what to do with himself so giving him the role of a gem with the purpose of purely serving others and being ordered around would fit.

Logan - An aquamarine or zircon. I don’t actually have a reaosn as to why I chose a zircon for him other than the fact that him being a lawyer was amusing to me. And for an aquamarine because of whatever I explained for Aiden. But a pearl could work for Logan too since both him and pearls were ‘objects’ and assisted people.

Y’know, like him and Barron.

Tyler & Taylor - I was thinking they were one of Yellow Diamond’s experiments, they were a forced fusion or were like the rutile twins. I’m giving them trauma because they don’t have mommy and/or daddy issues anymore so making them an Off Color or a forced fusion experiment seemed fitting.

Other than that, I think Taylor would be a peridot or bismuth(more fitting) since they’re both known to create things. Her being a bismuth seems fitting since I saw on Red’s Insta story that Taylor can weld things together.

I don’t know what Tyler would be though. Either a guard that was pushed aside because I was planning for him to be ‘over cooked’ like Amethyst.

Actually, both the twins are over cooked now because I said so/hj

This is super messy, I’ll probably end up rewriting this when I get my lapotp

[zirconika]

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ "ZIKA. . .LIKE THE VIRUS?" Precisely.

ANCIENT SCRIPTURES.

➸ main masterlist ⁑ fic recs

➸ MOST RECENT: happy ending (daryl dixon)

WISHING WELL.

➸ request guidelines (OPEN)

THE ZIRCON CAVE.

➸ about zika ⁑ boundaries ⁑ fandoms

TEMPLE MAP.

➸ blog tags ⁑ anon list ⁑ milestones

© zirconika (2024)

[diariodoprinceso]

Já era esperado que JAMES EDWARD SMITH ZWEIBRÜCKEN DE HESSE viesse para a Ilha de Treatan, afinal, ele é um PRÍNCIPE vindo da RANU (ESTADOS UNIDOS). Não que seja elegante perguntar, mas sei que ela já conta com seus 19 ANOS, e não esconde a fama de DRAMÁTICO, mas é sabido que seu lado OUSADO compensa. Se não tivesse sangue azul, eu diria que é um descendente direto de LOUIS PARTRIDGE, porque não poderiam ser mais idênticos!

A história de como eu descobri que minha vida era uma fic mal escrita por James de Hesse

Olá caro invasor de privacidades alheias. Sabia que não é legal ler o diário dos outros? Te darei apenas uma chance para respeitar minha privacidade e deixar esse caderno no lugar que você achou. Mas se você realmente é um mal caráter sem vergonha na cara e quer continuar lendo só pela fofoca, fique em paz… Os santos que irão te torturar e queimar no pós vida, não eu. 

Meu nome é James de Hesse. Tenho 19 anos, gosto de música, pizza, séries ruins... e, aparentemente, sou príncipe. É.

Então, até os meus 16 anos, minha vida era basicamente normal. Cresci no meio do nada, ajudando na fazenda, jogando futebol com os amigos e acreditando que "meus pais" — ou melhor, impostores traidores e completamente sem coração — eram só dois cidadãos muito, muito normais. Dava até orgulho da normalidade deles, sabe. Os pais do meu vizinho Roger tinham sido presos na semana passada por vender pózinho branco duvidoso, então os meus não estando no xilindró já era lucro. A gente tinha rotina. Almoço de domingo, brigas por causa de quem deixou o prato de macarrão na pia sem lavar, tudo na normalidade.

Aí um belo dia, do nada, dois estranhos aparecem na nossa casa vestidos como se tivessem saído de uma peça de teatro; confesso que eu quis rir, mas minha mãe me olhou com aquela cara, e eu tratei de ficar na minha. A moça parecia querer chorar só de olhar pra mim, e o cara tinha aquele olhar de “eu sou importante demais pra estar aqui”. Resultado? Eles eram meus pais de verdade. Você não leu errado, é isso mesmo. A rainha Kestrel e o rei Zircon. Do reino inteiro da América do Norte Unida. Sabe aquele reino gigante que você estuda na escola e pensa "uau, deve ser complicado ser da realeza"? Pois é. Eu.

"James", eles disseram, "você é nosso filho. Chegou a hora de voltar pra casa.". Eu só tinha voltado para casa pra pegar uma lata de Pepsi e depois voltar pra casa do Fletcher pra terminar a partida de futebol. Realmente pensei se era brincadeira, se era sequestro, ou se eu tinha finalmente perdido a sanidade por causa da prova de geografia da próxima semana.

Descobri que o senhor e a senhora Smith nem eram meus pais de verdade — eram funcionários do palácio! Funcionários! Aqueles vagabundos passaram 16 anos fingindo que eram meus pais! Eu não sei se fico mais bravo porque mentiram pra mim ou impressionado pela atuação digna de Oscar. Eu sei que é pecado, mas hoje em dia eu espero que eles caiam da bike e ralem o joelho. 

Mas beleza, né? Vamos lá. Agora eu sou um "príncipe". Não que alguém tenha me dado um manual de instruções ou um botão de "ativar modo nobre", ou me dado uma aula de como não vomitar falando em público (também teria servido pras aulas de debate da escola, mas isso é outra história). Mas nãaaaao, eles só me jogaram na corte e esperaram que eu agisse como se soubesse onde era o garfo de salada.

Ah, e aí tem o Hakon, meu "irmão mais velho". Ele me odeia. Não me odeia pouco, tipo “não gosto de dividir brinquedo”. Me odeia como quem odeia declarar imposto de renda, ou segunda-feira. Mas ninguém me explicou por que ainda. Só sei que ele me olha como se eu fosse uma barata tocando trompete no trono dele.

Então é isso. Um dia eu estava pensando na prova de química, e no outro estava pensando em como não morrer de vergonha na frente de cem duques, três condes e uma plateia inteira me julgando por segurar a taça de vinho errado. Minha vida virou uma novela — e eu nem recebo salário de ator. Mas, bom, se é pra ser príncipe, que seja do meu jeito. Um tropeço de cada vez.

PODER:

Desconhecido. Infelizmente ainda não tive tempo de me tornar um golden retirever, e nem pretendo. Poder estranho o dessa família…

INSP:

Percy Jackson, Peter Parker, Mia Thermopolis.