#after 5000 years i drew one of the voices

[mewmew-dream]

was scrolling pinterest and it reminded me of stp so (ft, the narrator and voice of the hero)

og image under the cut

[acaseforpencils]

Victoria Roberts Talks about Animation.

Today's interview on Case is a little bit different—I had been seeing Victoria's lovely animations on Instagram, and asked her if she might be interested in talking about them on here. She kindly obliged, so I sent her a loose list of questions to consider, and she sent me back such an incredible rumination on her experiences that I replied back to her "This is so cool! You are so cool!" because though I was expecting something incredible (Victoria being Victoria after all!), it wouldn't be dramatic for me say that I was thunderstruck! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy reading what she has to say as much as I did! —Jane

Find this print here!

On Animation

I’m so fortunate to be working on what I love.

It’s been a long haul in a way. I came to New York City from Sydney, Australia, because I wanted to run away with the Wooster Group-that is, do theatre. Or film. I was already a cartoonist, and I became one under contract to The New Yorker, an enormous privilege, thirty odd years ago.

But since last month, thanks to a software named Callipeg, I make an animated short every week, for which I do the voices, called “Axolotl Mondays.” Finally, I’m in the movies!

To be a performer and tell stories, or at least vignettes, is my passion. At nineteen, with $5000 from the Creative Development Fund of The Australia Council, we made “Goodbye Sally Goldstein”, a five minute animated film. I had three collaborators:

Rob Rogers, composer and musician, Kathryn Pentecost, and Jacqueline Field who drew and painted. From the sound recording, inking and painting, to the shoot, it took six months to complete. My favourite task in all of this was doing the sound breakdown, which consisted of manually running the soundtrack tape through a reader (not sure what the device was called) and jotting down the length of each sound so that you could animate to the soundtrack.

David Deneen founder of Film Graphics was my inspiration and coach. What I knew about animation came from time spent over the school holidays in his studio thanks to my mum, who worked in advertising and got me the gig. They were making an animated ad for Witchy Brew, an ice cream, and I remember they said it wasn’t until they boiled spaghetti that they got the right sound for the witch’s cauldron. 

Every animator had a different style, and each animator’s desk, covered in drawings, felt like a different universe. Val Udowenko and Don Mackinnon were stars in this creative shop that went on to win the Academy Award for Bruce Petty’s “Leisure” in 1976, Best Short Film. To watch David Deneen solve a problem from idea, to script, to film, was my university. 

I left school at sixteen and got a job painting cels for Hannah Barbera. The studio was run by Zoran Janjic, and his mum Zora, ran the painting department. Her “quiet girls please!” in a rich Yugoslavian accent resounded often. It was a big studio.

Sometimes we were on a network deadline so tight that Bill Hannah came to Sydney. We were paid per painted cel, working overtime, and we would try to get scenes with many mouths, as lips were very quick to paint. We stayed in over lunchtime and Mr. Hannah ordered in for us, fried chicken and coleslaw. “Would anybody like more slaw?” he offered, and the painting department cracked up at his American pronounciation of “slaaaaaaaaaaw.”

Again I had the good fortune to hear the soundtrack for a series called “Wait ‘til Your Father Comes Home,” an animated sitcom. I loved the soundtracks, and again remember the sound more than the drawings, and longed to be a creator of some sort.

Some characters come to the world with more dialogue than others. A cartoon strip though roomier than a gag cartoon with a drawing and one line of dialogue, isn’t enough space still for some characters like Nona Appleby, an Australian octogenarian character I have drawn since I was 16. Finally I started to play her on stage, and that gave Nona the opportunity to say everything that is in her heart (it’s a lot!). I maintain that I am a vessel, and the characters do all of the work. 

“Axolotl Mondays” is mid-step between the page and theatre. There is the element of time in a video, which is delicate and wonderful. A friend gave me gift of a six week editing course at MEWSHOP in New York City, which gave me a very good base for cutting and thinking about time. We learned at one of their lectures that “Annie Hall” started out as a film with a stream of consciousness dialogue, but that Diane Keaton’s performances were so extraordinary that it became another film in the editing room. I mention this to underline the malleability, possibility and difficulty of film.

These videos start out with a soundtrack usually, but I learn something new each week about how movement and time on screen works. My animation style is very basic, which fortunately suits my drawing style. It’s detail and timing, and other possibilities which I am learning about that make a piece “sing.” As with most of my work, I rarely know what I am doing. It’s the mystery, the discovery, that keep me on board. 

Callipeg is like having an old-style animation studio at your fingertips. Everything is done on the iPad. It’s so much faster than paper and cels, and cameras-and so accessible. Really a beautiful software, plus the creator’s tutorials are delivered in a native French accent!

Instagram Links:

Kathryn Pentecost is at BohemianPalaceof Art

Rob Rogers is rogers_bob

Jacqueline Field

Don Mackinnon

———-

If you enjoy this blog, and would like to contribute to labor and maintenance costs, there is a Patreon, and if you’d like to buy me a cup of coffee, there is a Ko-Fi  account as well! I do this blog for free because accessible arts education is important to me, and your support helps a lot! You can also find more posts about art supplies on Case’s Instagram and Twitter! Thank you!

[magic-missle-blog]

Ghost division

approx 5k words

The teacher stood in front of her class, looking over the rows of teenagers. The red sun shone through the glass illuminating the brightly coloured room and the wooden desks. The youngsters were mostly green skinned mammalian Drek, like herself, although she did have two reptilian Gath, shorter and stockier than the Drek, they sat on specially made chairs to accommodate there long tails, Their parents had recently moved to this colony, the new mines and the wealth therein drew sentients from all over the galaxy. Most were dressed in a similar fashion, dark blue trousers and skin tight teeshirts with a Varity of symbols of cartoon characters. She inwardly shuddered at the fashion sense of the young,

:readmore:

Off to the side was a older Drek, he was an elder, over 70 years old and even though his once blue hair was now all grey, and his back had a slight stoop, he stood proud and his eyes were bright. He had on a dark green military uniform, a couple of shades darker than his skin. The rank badge on his chest showed he was a captain, the dagger with wings on his sleeve showed he was in the war fleet.

“Class” the teacher began “We have a special guest with us today. As you know tomorrow is 'Alliance day', the most important holiday we have, and it’s a very special one. Tomorrow marks fifty years since the alliance between Drek and Gath, fifty years since the foundation of the united galactic council, fifty years since the Canidations were defeated and peace was restored to the galaxy.”

She took a breath. “Please give a warm welcome to captain Furon.”

The teacher clapped her 6 fingered hands together and sat down behind desk.

Captain Furon walked smartly to stand in front of the class. He precisely placed a bottle of water down next to some paperwork on the crowded wooden desk. All eyes were on his uniform and side arm.

He looked at the teacher. “Thank you for the most gracious introduction.” He said with a smile.

“I want to tell you about the battle for this colony; it was the turning point in the great war, but ...before I begin, who can tell me how the alliance started?”

A forest of hands rose in the air. Furon pointed to one of the Gath students. The student stood up and said in a hissing voice. “Sixty or so years ago a race called the Canidations tried to conquer the galaxy, they invaded and destroyed many worlds. The Canidations attacked both the Gath and Drek our empires bordered one another. We stood together, and fought off attack after attack, eventually driving the Canidations back into their space. After the war ended, our peoples joined in the alliance and started the galactic council, over the years we invited four other species into The Alliance.”

The reptilian sat back down.

As the student spoke Furon nodded along. Once the Gath had returned to his seat, the captain said “That’s the official bare bones history, but it’s not the full truth.”

Captain Furon looked around the class. “It started with the Canidations, that right enough, but what you don’t realise is just how powerful they were. They had more ships, more weapons than any other species, several times over. In their home system there was a gas giant with many moons, these moons were the size of small planets and the Canidations built factories. Giant factories that could mass produce warships in great numbers. Their fleet had tens of thousands of fighters, thousands of cruisers and hundreds of capital ships. The Canidations were a strong warrior race, with a high birth rate. The soon outstripped the resources on their home worlds and wanted more.” his voice turns cold “They were a plague. They couldn’t be reasoned with or bargained with, they believed they were the only true form of intelligent life, everything else was simply an animal to be destroyed.”

He looks lost in memories for a moment, the room is silent, hanging on his every word, For the first time the students actually grasped that standing before them was a warrior, a man who had lived through the horror of the great war .A man who had stood toe to toe with the Arachnidiod Canidations, who had spat in there ruby coloured multifaceted eyes.

Furon continued “In ten years the Canidations invaded and slaughtered five species and with every conquest their blood-lust grew and grew, they gave no quarter, gave no mercy. The wounded, civilians, even children were all fair targets to them.

The seemed unstoppable, we knew it was coming of course. The Drek and Gath were next in line, as the Canidations territory expanded it was a matter of time until they were at our door. We tried to build up our fleets, improve our weapons and fortify out colonies but it was futile.”

He reached for the bottle of water on the teacher desk and took along slow sip, then continued.

“Around 7 years after the war started the Canidations attacked a Gath border post, a few months later they attacked one of our convoys. Normally only a fool starts a war on two fronts, but the Canidations were so powerful and so arrogant they didn’t care. Then they made a mistake. They opened up another front. They attacked The Terrain Empire.”

The class murmured and looked around. This was new information. The Terrans don’t have an empire, they are generally vagabonds or mercs, and they are rare. The population only a few hundred thousand individuals across know space, in fact, no one in the class had ever seen one.

Furon continued “The Terrans, or Humans and they were sometimes known, were a relatively young race. They only had interstellar travel for a few decades, but they quickly built up a small empire. As a young race no one really considered them a threat, including the Canidations, but they were wrong. You see humans had one great strength, adaptability. The Canidations became warriors, but Humans were born for war. In the 5000 years of recorded human history there was not one single day when some part of the planet was not at war. They could see as well as we could what was coming so they built up their fleets and dusted off ancient tactics renewed and improved for a new age. When the Canidations first attacked the Terran Empire, they terrans would lose three ships for every one Canidation vessel killed, but with every battle, every loss the humans learned. They studied the enemy, they adapted. After six months it was one to one, and after a further six it took five Canidation warships to kill a Terran vessel. The humans tech advanced at an unmatched pace. They created new and unique weapons and defences, but it was not enough. Even with losses of 5 to one the Canidations were so many that those loses was a victory, however it slowed the advance into Terran space, and forced then to pull resources from Gath and Drek space to fight the Terrans, giving us much needed breathing room. The advance slowed, but it did not stop,”

Furon took a breath

“I want to tell you about a battle, a very important battle that took place here, in orbit of this colony towards the end of the war. This was the most important battle in the history of the Drek, because it paved the way for the alliance.”

“Back then this colony had around ten million people, and it was an important supply and repair centre for the fleet. At first it was far inside Drek space but as the Canidations pushed onwards this world soon became a target. We tried to evacuate the civilian population but we didn’t have the ships or resources, our fleets were spread so thin as Canidation attacks hit all over the empire. Around seven million people were left when the Canidation death fleet arrived. I was a young officer stationed in the bridge of the Warship 'Firestorm', part of small defence force, all that high command could spare. Our orders were to defend the colony at all costs.”

************************************************

Ensign Furon looked up from his screen. The green and black display flashed in warning. “Captain....sensors have just picked up a large Canidation fleet heading this way. We have 30 minutes until they reach the system.”

The captain looked around his small bridge. The red emergency lights shrouded his crew in an eerie glow, various consoles beeped for attention, chair creaked as people shifted. His crew were at battle stations, ready to fight and die if needed. The Firestorm was destroyer class Warship, Small and fast yet it packed a punch. He was proud of his ship and knew it inside and out. “How large?”

Furon checked his screen, “six capital ships, thirty cruisers, five carriers....we're outnumbered six to one.”

The captain checked the status of the other ships in his fleet. A ragged assortment of cruisers and destroyers most damaged to some extent from the constant warfare, they were only here as this was the closest repair station to the front. There were various other civilian ships in orbit and a large ring of defensive satellites. The civilians he could discount as they were unarmed, but the satellites might be able to help...and then there was the repair station itself, upgraded with the latest weapons..... Captain Brekka shook his head, in his heart of hearts he knew it wasn’t enough, the firepower the Canidation fleet had would cut through the colonies defences like a hot knife through butter.

“Comms open a general distress call”

“Channel opens Captain”

The captain

“This is captain Brekka of the Drek warship Firestorm. We have incoming hostile craft; we are in orbit of Baldur colony. If anyone can help. Please come. We have transport full of children, please assist.”

The Comms office waited a few moments, “nothing captain, no reply”

The first officer, a tall Drek with long lanky limbs replied “all ships are battle ready and moving into formation, plasma cannons are charging. The colony rail guns are active and defensive satellites fully powered. We'll squash those fucking bugs like a spider under our boots'”

The captain smiled a rare smile. He appreciated Firsts attempt to raid the crew’s spirits but everyone knew they didn’t stand a chance.

“Furon. Status of the evacuation ships”

Furon checked his screen. “Three are fully loaded and taking off, the remaining ten will be airborne within twenty minutes. There have been delays, people are crowding on. Its chaos down there.” The main view screen showed various scenes of the plant below. Parents trying to push their children onto the waiting transports, civilian craft fleeing. People fighting each other and trying to flee.

“Cutting it close...” the captain said. He pressed a button on his command console, opening a channel to his fleet. “Prepare to break orbit, defend the transports at all costs.”

The bridge crew looked at the captain. The first office spoke up. “But captain...the planet....there are seven million people...”

The captain, his face drawn, heart heavy, looked at the sensor display. He knew what was going to happen. Those capital ships would smash the space dock as the cruisers destroyed the satellites and ground cannons. Once the defences were down they would bombard the colony with fusion bombs. A few might survive in outlying settlements, or if they managed to get to the bunkers....but by this time tomorrow most would be dead. “There’s nothing we can do for them, but if we defend the transports at least the children will survive.”

Minutes seemed like hours. Furon checked and rechecked the status of the Canidation fleet as they drew closer. The tension was unbearable. A trickle of sweat crawled like a spider down his spine.

CLICK CLACK.

CLICK CLACK

Someone was clicking a pen.

CLICK CLACK

CLICK CLACK

CLICK ...

The first office strode across the bridge and plucked the pen from the officer at fire control. With a grunt the pen was crushed in the firsts strong hand.

Blue eyes glued to the screen, Furon was the first to see the Canidations dropped out of hyperspace just shy of the planets gravity well and began their approach at sub light.

Heavy cruisers bristling with weapons, smaller but faster destroyers, behind that the capital ships. Monsters made of titanium and horror, each one ten times the size of his own vessel. Last but certainly not least the carriers with their cargo of small deadly fighters.

“Five minutes until weapons range” Furon said. The captain sat in his chair, still as a rock watching the sensor display on the main screen. The transports had all reached orbit and were slowly moving out of the gravity well where they could safely activate hyper drive, but they were slow, far too slow.

“Captain” Furon said with alarm “Enemy fleet is breaking formation.”

On the screen the carriers offloaded their cargo of small sleek fighters. Fast and deadly shaped like locusts, they were moving around the Drek fleet to try to flank the transports, as the main body of cruisers attacked head on. The capital ships headed straight for the colony, where their large guns and mass drivers would rain death on the helpless people below.

The captain knew the colony was doomed; all he could do was try to save the transports. Save as many people as he could. He knew his duty, but hated himself for abandoning the colony.

The captain pressed a button on his command console “Sword, Wildcat, intercept those fighters, the rest of you, battle formation, buy those transports as much time as you can....it’s been an honour serving with you.” He cut the channel, nothing else needed to be said. He looked around the bridge crew, emotion plain on the green faces, anger, hatred, but no fear. They faced death but they wouldn’t go down easy and with luck their sacrifice would save thousands of Drek on those transports. The captain couldn’t have been prouder.

“Two minutes until weapons range” Furon said

The incoming ships slowly grew in size as they drew closer.

“Weapon range in 90 seconds, the first transport is 3 minutes from the minimum safe FTL jump point, the last transport is 10 minutes away. Fighters will intercept transports in 3 minutes” Furon said.

So, Captain Drek thought, it’s not all in vein, a few transports will be safe and we’ll buy the rest as much time as we can.

“Weapons range in one minute....wait...captain....I’m picking up something on Comms, its an audio . it sounds like a...a howl?” when the captain nodded furon opened the channel. An eerie moan, filled the bridge. Words, almost two low to catch were mixed in the scary sound, “we are the ghost division, we are your death...”

Furon had turned a sickly pale blue colour. He cut of the channel, and turned to the captain, he was about to speak when his station beeped. “Captain, its a distress call its...it’s from the Canidation capital ships... they want aid....the call has cut off”. Furon said confused.

The screen zoomed into capital ships closing in on the planet, but where the there should have been six monstrous death machine, only four could be seen. Two expanding clouds of debris still glowing, were the remains of the others. As they watched a bright red explosion blossomed from the main hull of another ship, it quickly consumed the huge vessel. As it died a bright yellow explosion from the rear of the ship, the fusion plant loosing containment no doubt, finished it off.

On the main screen an explosion destroyed an enemy destroyer, and then another destroyed a cruiser. Within a few second ten Canidation ships were no more than glowing space dust.

The line of incoming ships dissolved into chaos. They fired weapons all around. The Drek couldn’t see anything though, the Canidations seemed to have gone mad, firing at empty space.

The first office looked up “the cruisers and fighters are breaking off they’re heading to the capital ships...what the fuck is happening?”

The bridge was a jumble of activity. Sensor reports were coming in, the Comms system was going crazy as the other ships in the fleet reported the same thing, asking for orders.

Furon shouted over the noise on the bridge “something is attacking them, I’m reading...fuck I don’t know what I’m reading. I’ve never seen anything like this. Weird gravity spikes, then ships appearing then vanishing. If I didn’t know better I’d say the sensors were damaged.”

The screen showed the Canidation fleet in full retreat. Black ships around the size of destroyers appeared out of no where, fired a barrage of projectile and energy weapons then vanished again. It didn’t matter where the Canidations turned or how the dodged, a ship always appeared, fired and vanished. It made it impossible to target them, or get an accurate count of numbers. When the new sleek warhips were sure of a direct hit they would fire a large torpedo, the weapon didn’t seem to have any guidance, but it packed a punch. Any cruiser it hit was killed, and even the monstrous capital ships were destroyed. With one missile. Brekka had no idea what the warhead was, but it was immensely powerful. It seemed to vapourise anything it hit rather than exploding like a normal missiles

The Comms office piped up “incoming hail”

“On screen” Brekka said

The screen changed from the confusion of battle to a video call.

A tall dark skinned human in a dark grey uniform appeared on screen.

“I’m captain Conroy of the Terran warship Lucifer; we received your distress call. Your transports will be safe now, want to help us mop up the rest of these bastards?” he asked with a grin.

Brekka let out a Drek war cry and said to the crew.

“You heard the good captain. Give them Hell”

****************************************

“The battle lasted less than 30 minutes. We didn’t lose a single ship, neither did the humans. Only one Canidation ship survived, and that was because the humans let it go. ‘Teach them to fear the wrath of Earth’ Captain Conroy told us. We offered the humans shore leave but they declined, they had a mission. To spread fear among the Canidations, to hit hard without mercy and vanish like ghosts. That battle was a major victory, it inspired our people, and it showed that non Drek could help, would be willing to help so in turn we could help others. Due to the humans example the Firestorm was the first Drek ship on the scene when a small flotilla of Canidations attacked a Gath supply line, we helped save a half dozen Gath ships. The Gath returned the favour and soon we were fighting side by side. It was from these small actions the alliance was born. If it wasn’t for the Terran ghost division, the alliance would never have happened.”

Hands rose as Furon finished history. “What happened to the humans? How could they make their ships invisible, what kind of weapons did they use?” a jumble of voices asked various questions.

Furon smiled and raised his hands for silence.

“We don’t know what stealth tech the human ships used, we think they could manipulate artificial gravity in some way to bend light and sensor beams around the ships but we can’t replicate it yet. As for the weapons, well they used tungsten projectiles fired from rail guns and plasma based energy weapons for the most part...but those torpedoes... they were something else. We managed to recover a few that missed their targets. From what we gather they used some kind of exotic matter with negative mass to generate an antigravity wave, That wave was unstoppable, and any matter caught in it was destroyed and changed into energy. This caused a chain reaction, if effectively turned the ships own armour into an energy blast. “

Furon took another drink.

“As for what happened to them....they spread fear among the Canidations. For months Ghost division stuck Canidation ships. Burned colonies, wherever that eerie sound would play Canidations died by the hundreds and thousands. They spreads So much fear that the Canidations halted their advance into Gath and Drek space and committed almost everything to the destruction of Earth. The humans fought hard and made the Canidation bleed for every inch but eventually the humans were pushed back into their home system. tens of Thousands of Canidation ships dropped out of FTL into the Sol system, almost the entire Canidation fleet, almost every and solider so they could watch humanity die.

The terrans had pulled everything back into Earth orbit, every ship, and every colonist. Everything other than ghost division

It must have been an amazing sight, the two biggest fleets the galaxy has ever seen...ready to fight to the death.”

Furon looked around the class

“But the humans...they were vindictive bastards, and clever. From what we gather they built one last torpedo. It must have been huge, at least a mile long, and filled with millions of tonnes of exotic matter. They fired it directly into their own sun causing it to go supernova. The Gravity wave of the dying star made FTL impossible. The entire Canidation fleet was wiped out in one go, millions of Canidations, dead In a heartbeat, I sometimes wonder what when through their mind before they were blasted into ash. Then the alliance struck. Our ships, the combined might of the Gath and Drek empires attacked. We hunted down and wiped out every last Canidation ship, but when we arrived in the home system, we found it had already been killed. The ghost division had been there first...no Canidations survived the human’s wrath. The home world had been cracked open like an egg. Every planet and moon that had even a hint of canidation presence was sterilized.”

The Gath that had spoken earlier said with awe “the humans destroyed their own home world rather than let it fall...they must have been mighty warriors.”

Furon smiled

“Oh they were re than mighty warriors. They were inventors, thinker ands dreamers. After the supernova had passed and it was safe, mercy vessels from the alliance went into the remains of the sol system... we knew it was hopeless but we owed it to the terrans to look for survivors. We found the smashed remains of the two inner planets, and the irradiated husk of the fourth planet. We found a diamond thousands of miles wide, all that remained of the planet after the atmosphere had been blown away. But of earth there was nothing, no debris, no wreckage, nothing.”

“ Just before the supernova wave reached earth, our long range scopes picked up something odd, a massive energy spike. We think the humans somehow created an artificial wormhole, they used the power from the supernova to rip open time and space. They shifted their entire planet, their moon and the whole fleet and left the Canidations to die. They used their own planet as bait and their star as the biggest bomb the galaxy has ever seen. You might say its impossible, but Humans could dream the impossible and make it possible...I don’t know if it s true or not, but they might still out there somewhere and could come back one day., and if they do i hope to all the gods that they come in peace.

[cur10uscr0w]

Character Analysis: Nahiri

With the return of web fiction, many Magic fans are celebrating the return of their favorite characters to the rich, exciting format that fed the rich boom of Magic fandom such as it was in 2016. Spoilers ahead for Episode 1: In the Heart of the Skyclave.

Read here: https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/magic-story/episode-1-heart-skyclave-2020-09-02 written by @AtGreenblatt on twitter / atgreenblatt.com

It has been a long time for these characters, both to grow in story, and for the fans to keep up with out of story. Nahiri is an oldwalker, a planeswalker born before the Mending (an event 60 years ago in canon that dramatically changed the Multiverse and those with sparks); Nissa sparked just as the Mending took place; and while Jace is only a human in his mid-twenties, he has lived through some pretty intense experiences that have shaped how he sees the world around him.

Episode 1 of Zendikar Rising begins with Nissa and Nahiri meeting on Zendikar, their shared home, and discussing how Zendikar has been gravely injured by the Eldrazi's presence. Their conversation is a foundation for showing who these planeswalkers are today, revealing how the past has morphed their ideologies and particularly their relationship with guilt and protection. 

Both characters view themselves as Zendikar's guardian. This identity is essential to the choices they've made all their life, and it is directly tied to the Eldrazi threat, be it 6000 years ago or just a century ago. Let's look at the beginnings of this self-imposed duty and focus on Nahiri this week.

Nahiri sparked and found herself at Sorin's mercy. Planeswalkers used to be ever more dramatic and dangerous in the old days, godlike in power and territorial of their worlds. There were strict protocols to enter other people's worlds, and intrusions were met with distrust.

"All I see is a tantrum," he said. "If you came to meet an equal, you should have come under truce, following the protocols for parley with a fellow Planeswalker."

Stone and Blood, 2016

"There's no 'we' here, dragon," said Sorin, rising. "There's us, and theres's you. And Zendikar is under her protection."

"Hello to you, too, Sorin of Innistrad," said the dragon. "And on the contrary, when it comes to this problem, 'we' means everyone, everywhere."

He turned his great head toward Nahiri.

"I am Nahiri, guardian of Zendikar," she said. She looked up into the newcomer's inscrutable eyes and tried not to seem afraid. "Whoever you are, you're here at my sufferance."

"Of course," said the dragon, bowing. "Well met, Nahiri of Zendikar, and thank you for your hospitality."

The Lithomancer, 2014

Sorin and Nahiri trained together, and became friends, though Nahiri knew she could not fully trust him. They embarked on fantastic and tragic journeys spanning decades to fight the eldrazi, and in that time, Sorin trained a deep distrust in Nahiri.

"May I have a word with you, Nahiri?"

The clipped, dry voice was right behind her, close enough that she should have heard the man walk up to her, should have felt his breath on her neck. But he walked like a cat, and he drew no breath, and the thought of his lips so close to her throat made her shudder. Vampire.

She'd known he was there anyway—he was walking on bare stone, after all—but he himself had told her not to let anyone know all her tricks. Not even her friends, which wasn't at all sure he was.

She turned to face Sorin Markov—Vampire, fellow Planeswalker, protector of the plane called Innistrad, and the closest thing she had to a friend in this place so far from the world of her birth.

The Lithomancer, 2014

Even so, he was the closest thing she had to a friend. Despite their at times antagonistic friendship, they both appreciated the other and were relieved to see each other was doing well upon their reunion. Nahiri had worried for him, and he was pleased to see her, even dropping his brooding exterior enough to joke and clasp her shoulder.

"You'll have to forgive my rudimentary attempt at shaping stone, young one."

She spun. Sorin!

White hair, black coat, those strange orange eyes. How terrible his aspect, how dire his gaze—and yet she could not keep herself from grinning.

"My friend!" she managed to say at last. "You're alive!"

He smiled back at her, walked toward her, and put his hand on her shoulder. From him, it qualified as elation.

Their time together highlighted her belief in what it meant to be a protector. She saw herself as Zendikar's, and together they tried to protect the Multiverse so the Eldrazi wouldn't harm their home planes. Nahiri views her part in all of this as one who must protect all life. Watching even one settlement suffer on a foreign world causes her heartache, and she strives to instill hope and provide comfort and safety—even in their last minutes.

"You've made their camp for them," said Sorin. "Again. I think it's time we left them to their own efforts."

"No," said Nahiri. "We're here to save them."

"You're here to save them," said Sorin. "I'm here to stop these creatures, on this world, before they spread to others—to mine, or to yours."

Down in the river valley, dark shapes writhed. The sounds of camp life were muted.

"I can't stand to watch them suffer," she said.

"Then turn away," said Sorin, "and look at the bigger picture."

The Lithomancer, 2014

She is ridiculed by Sorin, told by him—and later Ugin—to "think of the bigger picture". Nahiri is 1000 years Sorin's junior, and informed that Ugin is even older than him, and they treat her as a child for her idealistic worldview of preventing all harm, allowing no one to suffer needlessly. She follows their plans however, respecting Sorin's judgement.

He raised a hand and conjured a small, ghostly image of the enormous thing they had seen on the horizon of that doomed world.

"You were watching us," said Nahiri, realization dawning. "And you didn't help."

"There is a whole Multiverse of people to help," said Ugin, "and a multitude of ways to help them. While you were trying to stage a grand battle, I was watching, and learning, so that these creatures can be stopped in the long run. This is a goal the three of us share."

"That's my goal," said Nahiri. "But I question the moral judgment of anyone who views the destruction of an entire world as a research project."

"What have you learned about them?" asked Sorin, ignoring her.

Wonderful. The grown-ups were talking. He had done this to her before, when meeting with other Planeswalkers. But she trusted Sorin's judgment, for the most part. She would hear the dragon out.

The Lithomancer, 2014

When Ugin presents his plan, it is to trap the Eldrazi on a plane that meets the requirements Zendikar does. To find another world would take time, and Nahiri has seen the devastation the Eldrazi wreak.

"Nahiri…" said Sorin, in what she thought of as his aggrieved-parent voice. "You saw what they did to that place. You can keep it from happening again. You heard Ugin. If we succeed, Zendikar survives."

"Risked," said Nahiri. "Damaged. What gives me the right to put everyone here in danger?"

"What gives you the right not to?" asked Ugin. "I am telling you that we can risk one world to save all others. And all worlds, including that one, are already at risk. The choice is obvious."

He lowered his head to look her in the eye.

"If you would prefer not to put your own world in danger, we can take the time to find another plane that meets our needs. If it is defended by a Planeswalker, we convince its guardian to cooperate—By force, if necessary. If it is undefended, we simply begin."

The Lithomancer, 2014

She reluctantly accepts this hardship on behalf of her plane because she believes in Zendikar's strength, and Ugin points out that Zendikar has a protector—her—that can take care of the world while it holds onto the sealed titans. It's the right thing to do, and she acknowledges she couldn't handle the guilt of shoving away the responsibility onto another plane.

They would come here eventually, if they were not stopped. They would come, and when they did, she would not be able to protect her world. And if she trapped them on some other world, to save her own, how would she forgive herself? The air of her beloved home would hold a guilty tang forever.

Zendikar was strong. It could withstand the Eldrazi long enough to trap them. Zendikar would be their prison, Nahiri their jailer, one world and one Planeswalker standing steadfast to protect all others.

The Lithomancer, 2014

Five millenia pass, Nahiri sleeping within the world of Zendikar and keeping vigil over her prisoners. At this point, she has spent nearly all of her existence toiling to keep the Eldrazi at bay so the Multiverse may live in peace. Sorin, Ugin, and she worked together for a few decades setting up the trap, and she had some time with Sorin before that, but she has dedicated 5000 years to holding the Eldrazi for the benefit of the Multiverse because that was the best way to ensure her beloved home Zendikar survived. She still viewed time under the constraints of mortality during the hedrons' construction.

It had taken forty years to establish the hedron network—what had seemed like a lifetime to her then, when she was still immersed in her connections to ordinary mortals. Crafting one single hedron would not take nearly so long, though she did it alone. The hardest part would be shaping the surface without Ugin's guidance.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

In her sleep, the kor misremembered her words about the titans, making a prophet out of her. Vampires have begun to roam Zendikar, and they disrupted the hedron alignment enough to release Eldrazi broods against Zendikar once more.

Above the male figure's head, an arcing banner proclaimed the subject of the artwork: "Nahiri the Prophet, Voice of Talib."

She turned her back on the sculpture and strode out of the building. Outside, she raised her hands and clenched her fists, and a cloud of dust billowed around her as the building collapsed in on itself.

It was her fault. She had been the first to call Kozilek a god, and apparently the kor had remembered that word more than they had remembered her dire warnings about the gods destroying the world. She felt sick.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

Even as she approached, she could tell that this was the point where the hedron network had been disturbed. Right under her nose, while she sat alone in the Eye of Ugin. Fury boiled up in her, directed as much at herself as at whoever had done this.

Fury—another feeling she had forgotten. It felt good.

She strode toward the building, each step shaking the ground and causing trickles of gravel and dust to run down the walls. As she drew near, three dark figures came around the building from the other side, crouching into combat stances as they spotted her.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

The figures seemed human, but she didn't recognize their clothing from any culture she knew. Flimsy gauze barely covered their chests, revealing the stark red paint adorning their ashen skin. Sharp hooks protruded from their shoulders and upper arms and, as they snarled at her approach, she saw slightly protruding fangs.

Vampires? she thought. There are no vampires on Zendikar.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

Nahiri deals with this resurgence and the people who brought it upon them, though it is difficult, and she must do it alone. She had agreed to sleep away her life within Zendikar, promised that should she ever need Sorin or Ugin's help, they would aid her.

Worry blossoms in her, and she is moved to help her friend, Sorin, if he is unwell. It feels good to give in to overpowering emotion again, having fallen into an apathetic halflife during her vigil. She seeks to bring meaning to her long slumber.

Other feelings she had all but forgotten, concern and anxiousness, swelled up in her heart and they made her smile even as they made her ache. They made her feel alive—the sensation of her heart pounding in her chest, the sound of it in her ears, the movement of her muscles as her brow furrowed and her jaw tightened.

What had Sorin been doing all the years she had been cocooned here in the Eye of Ugin? Was he still alive? Had he forgotten her and her vigil over Zendikar? Had he succumbed to the same apathy that had held her for so long?

She would go and find him, wake him up if she needed to, remind him of her and Zendikar and the friendship they had once shared, remind him what it was to live, to feel, to care. She had saved Zendikar, and now she would save him. And then she would return and walk among her people again, she would teach and laugh and love again, and it would matter again. It would all matter.

Stirring Slumber, 2015

Her reunion with Sorin begins alright, he is clearly pleased to see her and she is relieved he is doing well; however, she becomes wary, uncertain, as to what could possibly have kept Sorin away from fulfilling his promise to come to her aid. 

This is also a pivotal moment in how she sees herself in relation to other planeswalkers; she realizes that they are now much closer in age than when she entered sleep and are something akin to equals rather than student and mentor.

She reached up to cover his hand with hers. She was awake now, her body suffused with the warmth of life. His fingers were as cold and dead as ever.

"You never came," she said. "On Zendikar, when I activated the signal from the Eye of Ugin, you never responded. I feared that—"

Sorin withdrew his hand, frowning.

"The Eldrazi have broken free of their bonds?"

"They did, yes."

"Where is Ugin?" he asked.

"He didn't come either," she said, trying not to let bitterness reach her voice. "But I handled it. On my own. With all the strength I could muster, I managed to reseal the titans' prison."

It struck her, suddenly, that she was now far older than Sorin had been when they had met. In her memory he towered over her, her ancient mentor, a thousand years her senior. Now, what difference did a thousand years make? They were equals. At least.

Stone and Blood, 2016

When she inquires why he didn't come, he reveals his magic protecting Innistrad may have possibly prevented her call from reaching him. He speaks to her patronizingly, and she realizes the possibility that he chose his plane over hers and left her to rot, having used her for her service to the Multiverse.

"It's not inconceivable," he continued, sounding bored, "that your signal from the Eye was unable to break through the magic that protects this plane."

Sorin's own spellcraft had kept her from contacting him? She felt a sudden sense of vertigo, and picked her next words with care.

"Did you know at the time that that would happen?"

"It did not occur to me," he said. "Though I see now that it was a possibility."

Stone and Blood, 2016

Get up? she cried. You broke my arm!

So fix it, he said. He wasn't even looking at her.

Fix it? Fix it? How in the hells—

Only then had he finally explained to her that she was no longer mortal. That her body was a convenience, a projection of her will.

You should have told me that to begin with, she said, holding back tears of anger.

Ah, he said, in that bored but benevolent voice. It did not occur to me.

He was using that voice now, talking down to her. But the girl he had mentored was long dead, buried in a tomb of stone. Only a Planeswalker remained. And a Planeswalker would not be condescended to.

Stone and Blood, 2016

"I don't want your enmity," said Nahiri. "All I ever wanted was your help, Sorin. You made a promise. Come with me."

"Not now," said Sorin, with infuriating calm. "Later, perhaps. This is a critical time—"

"A critical time!" snapped Nahiri. "The Eldrazi almost escaped. You're thinking in terms of eons, but for all I know the Eldrazi are loose now. All that we worked for will be lost, your own plane will be in danger—don't you care about that?"

It hit her, then. The imprisonment of the Eldrazi had become her life's work, a constant effort that had kept her bound to her plane for almost her entire existence. But for him it had been an eyeblink—forty years of mild effort, five thousand years ago, in exchange for millennia of peace of mind. And now, with his new countermeasures, perhaps Innistrad wasn't in danger. Perhaps Nahiri and Zendikar and a hundred million carefully placed hedrons had served their purpose, in the mind of Sorin Markov.

Stone and Blood, 2016

Their argument escalates to blows as Nahiri's pain at being used sharpens into anger. She trusted Sorin. She allowed Sorin and Ugin to use her home, and sacrificed so many years of her life to protect the Multiverse. Sorin still sees her as a child planeswalker and won't even come back to Zendikar like he promised to make sure their work doesn't go to waste.

"Don't dismiss this," she said. "I was willing to jeopardize my home by luring the Eldrazi to it. I promised to chain myself to Zendikar to watch over them as their warden. I spent millennia with those monsters. Do you know what that's like? All you had to do was come when I needed you."

The ground began to shake, the bedrock below them vibrating in sympathy with her mounting rage. Of all the stone and metal nearby, only the silver Helvault seemed beyond her reach.

"Don't presume to own my actions, young one. I am obligated to nothing. I owe you nothing! When your Planeswalker spark first ignited, it was I who discovered you. I could have ended you there, but I spared you."

He turned back to her, orange eyes full of malice, face inches from hers.

"I took you under my wing, and molded you into what you are," he said. "If you find it necessary to pester someone, go find Ugin. I have no patience for it."

No patience. No patience. Pain gave way to anger in a white-hot instant.

Stone and Blood, 2016

Strands of eager silver closed around her body, drawing her in. Shards of rock whirled through the air, the bedrock beneath their feet shifted at her rage, but the Helvault itself did not care.

"Damn you!" she screamed. "I trusted you!"

He loomed over her, now, the angel's wings spread behind him, and he spoke one last time before molten silver flooded her ears. He sounded almost sad. Almost.

"I never asked for your trust, child. Only your obedience."

Then the Helvault claimed her, and she vanished into a darkness vast and total.

Stone and Blood, 2016

She spends a thousand years trapped in the Helvault, lost in a sea of darkness and demons. Nahiri gave everything for the Multiverse, and her thanks is to be threatened with madness as she wastes away in a void.

It was not like her cocoon of stone back on Zendikar, the slab of rock where she had slumbered for five fitful millennia. In her cocoon, dreamlike, she could sense all of Zendikar, reach out to any part of it, appear wherever she wished.

This was much, much worse—only darkness, and falling, and the unmistakable scent of Sorin Markov.

Sorin would pay for his treachery. She would escape from this prison, and she would make him pay. She'd thought they were allies. Friends! Now she saw him for what he truly was: a monster, plain and simple.

Stone and Blood, 2016

She comes to realize Sorin is a monster that she should have never trusted, and she isn't the only being wronged by him. His own creation, Avacyn, has wound up in the Helvault and Nahiri recognizes her to be twisted with hate, and Sorin's puppet.

The angel rose toward Nahiri—slowly, slowly, in this timeless void—until they were side by side. The cloud of demons had dissipated as Sorin's protector gained the upper hand. The angel looked over at Nahiri, and for a moment their eyes locked—and finally Nahiri understood. Sorin hadn't enslaved an angel. He hadn't tricked her or coerced her. This angel stank of Sorin, just like the Helvault.

He had made her. Just like the Helvault.

The angel recognized her, from their long-ago fight. Dark eyes flashed with fury—fury Sorin had instilled. He had created her in his own image, twisted her from the beginning. Made her hateful. Made her his. Nahiri shuddered.

Another being grievously wronged by Sorin Markov, one with no chance of vengeance or redress. No chance of freedom. A porcelain doll, to replace the student he had lost.

Stone and Blood, 2016

When she is finally broken out of the Helvault, she returns to Zendikar, a thousand years since she first realized the hedron network was being messed with, and finds her home to be a husk of what it once was. She knows what titans can do to a plane, eating the mana and corroding the land to such a degree the world itself cracks. She resigns herself to the fact that she can't destroy them herself, that Sorin's selfishness has led to the destruction of her home and all the Multiverse, and that she intends to take revenge on Sorin first.

Nahiri fell to her knees, pressing her hands into that lifeless dust.

If this was loose on her world—

If what happened here could happen everywhere—

If she had no preparations, a thin shard of her old power, and a hedron network centuries out of true—

Then the Zendikar she knew was dead. There was no saving it. One might as well try to stop the sun in the sky. She closed her eyes and saw her Zendikar, Zendikar as it had been. The world she had let Sorin Markov destroy. Hot tears of rage ran down her face and landed in that awful dust with a hiss.

"As Zendikar has bled, so will Innistrad."

She opened her eyes and looked down at her hands, at hands that had shaped stone and trapped titans. They were covered in gray dust.

"As I have wept, so will Sorin."

Stone and Blood, 2016

In these six millenia, we see Nahiri give everything, even her sense of self, for the protection of Zendikar. She is thought naïve and a bleeding heart for her unconditional care for those who walk all the planes of the Multiverse. She is routinely told by her mentor, her friend, her ally, that she must focus on the big picture. She is told that she is sacrificing herself for the greater good, to keep balance, and she is congratulated in this endeavor after decades of hard work.

Looming above the highlands of Akoum, the three Eldrazi stood petrified, surrounded by a web of floating hedrons. Nahiri knew the earth here. It was already reacting, growing around the great Eldrazi like a scab over a wound. The teeth of Akoum would swallow them, and the inhabitants of Zendikar would scour the plane of their brood. Zendikar had survived, ravaged but whole, and its people would learn to live in the shadows of the hedrons.

"Well done, Nahiri," said Sorin. "This was your work. Your sacrifice."

The three of them would test the strength of the lock, make sure the titans were secure. Perhaps Sorin and Ugin would help her scour the land of the Eldrazi broods. She hoped so. And then, sooner or later, the two elder Planeswalkers would depart, and Nahiri—and the Eldrazi—would remain.

She stared up at the silent, stony shapes. Ramparts of stone already crept up around them. Perhaps in a thousand years they would be forgotten, their destruction fading into legend. But Nahiri would not forget them, and neither would the land itself.

"This was our work," she said. "My work is just beginning."

The Lithomancer, 2014

When she wakes up from a watch that lasts thousands of years? Her response is to relish in emotion because she has let herself be encased in stone for so long. She laughs through pain because it's so novel, and she thinks of her friend who should be helping her. Nahiri worries for his safety, wonders if he has come upon a similar fate as she had, vows that she will bring love and laughter to his life once more as she dreams of walking through markets and experiencing life again.

His betrayal is a knife in the back. As far as Nahiri is concerned, his words all those centuries back were hollow. He never considered the pain she may be in, nor the fact she may not hear her call for help, as he rose defense around his home. She saves Zendikar from its first Eldrazi resurgence and rushes to save her friend, only to find he has moved on and doesn't care about her.

In a Multiverse where she has failed—the Eldrazi have escaped and will eat all of creation one way of the other—she has nothing to lose. She only has hope that she can exact revenge, and buy as much borrowed time for Zendikar while she does. She knows from her work with Sorin and Ugin that the Eldrazi can be directed, and will ignore other planes in their path.

The hedrons were lure as well as trap, sending out pulses of magical energy that drew the Eldrazi like the scent of blood draws sharks. Slowly, ponderously—and, Sorin reported, ignoring other worlds along the way—the Eldrazi approached Zendikar.

The Lithomancer, 2014

Nahiri destroys Sorin's bloodline, his home, and traps Sorin in rockface, leaving him captured in rockface so he cannot planeswalk away. She leaves him to watch the destruction of everything he holds dear. She leaves him trapped like he left her.

Innistrad is no longer her concern, she's been gone from Zendikar too long. Zendikar had been her salvation to get her through her millenia-long jailing, imagining it in its entirety. Her duty to Zendikar becomes forefront once more, having written off Innistrad, and she is dismayed by just how much has changed in her absence. While the Gatewatch trap Emrakul and halt the Eldrazi threat, Nahiri is focused on how she can help her beloved world, afflicted by the Roil.

Her whole life has been dictated by duty. She sees Zendikar as hers, because when she walked the Multiverse before her slumber, planes belonged to the planeswalkers that claimed them. It is also her obligation to fix what has become wrong because in her absence, her work has irrevocably changed Zendikar and its inhabitants. Her words have been twisted into idolization of the Eldrazi and her hedrons have become a sacred piece of kor spirituality.

Through episode one of Zendikar Rising, Nahiri is easily angered. Her guilt is expressed through fury, because she sees her work on Zendikar as failure. Skyclave fell, and the world is so unstable she can barely get through a short conversation without the world trying to swallow her. When the Roil was new, she likened it to a scab festering over a wound, and it seems 6000 years has only made her disgust of it more severe.

She speaks to Nissa with the same casual dismissal that Sorin and Ugin treated her to, because all her very long life, older planeswalkers treat younger planeswalkers as children. She manipulates conversation to put herself in a place of knowing and leading, not revealing everything so that Nissa must follow if she wishes to aid.

"I might have a solution," Nahiri replied, inclining her head toward the Skyclave. "Something that will heal Zendikar."

Nissa blinked. "You do?" she blurted in surprised, and then awkwardly added, "Sorry, I mean, you're not exactly known for healing. After what you did on Innistrad . . ."

Nahiri raised an eyebrow. "Says the person who set the Eldrazi free."

"I didn't—"

The elf stammered, but Nahiri raised a hand.

"We've both done things that have caused great damage. Let's try to undo some of it."

In the Heart of the Skyclave, 2020

"Look around you—this Skyclave is healing. The Roil stopped below us, and the land is calming. People will be able to rebuild here!" Nahiri said gesturing at the Skyclave's repair.

"At the expense of Zendikar's life," Nissa retorted. She reached out her awareness to the plants and moss that grew in the corners and cracks of the Skyclave, but they didn't respond. Nissa knew then that everything that lived in that ruined fortress was dead.

"You don't know what Zendikar was like," Nahiri said, her voice tight with anger, "you don't know how stunning and bright its people and cities used to be."

"And you don't know what Zendikar is like now. It's still beautiful, Nahiri"—Nissa reached out her hand—"give me the key."

In the Heart of the Skyclave, 2020 

She has spent so long trying to protect Zendikar, and she is willing to do anything to have back the Zendikar that she remembers. To return the Skyclave to the kor. To return Zendikar's stone to the peaceful earth it was before she let herself be duped by an elder dragon and vampire she thought was her friend.

She grieves the world she left behind, unable to see the beauty of the world that she now stands in. On Innistrad, she thinks to herself that a thousand years in the Helvault is rest enough for several lifetimes, and her rage has been building in all that time, rekindled after she let herself fall apathetic for too long.

The sacrifice of some elementals—of even a person or two as we saw in the trailer—is worth it for The Bigger Picture, that she has been taught to seek.

We will have to wait and see how the story unfolds and how her fury carries her through.

Check out Magic Story next week Wednesday for episode 2, and I will be following up on Thursday with a character analysis of Nissa!

[noctisfishing]

The Last One Wins | 03

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Notes: This chapter is mainly why I’ve included the warning for minor Kizuna spoilers. And, not really a spoiler, but I made sure I got the name of Koushiro’s company correct in this. We have Kou/Izzy to thank for everything that happens in this chapter. <3

Hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter 3: The Admission of Defeat

It took a few weeks for Matt to get used to living in space. Even after a few years of intensive training, he found it interesting to get a grasp on the absence of gravity, and being used to being suspended midair.

Before taking off, Matt and his fellow crew members were surprised to find out that they would be the first group to test out video conferencing capabilities in the International Space Station. All five agencies, including JAXA and NASA, had been working with Izumi Corporation for implementation by the time the next crew arrived at the station. Matt wouldn't have thought that Izzy would reveal that it had been a top secret project even to him, but it was nice to chat with a friendly face occasionally while they were both on the job.

Matt had gotten along with the group of crew members with him, but he always looked forward to his weekly video calls with Sora. He had to hand it to Izzy - six months without being able to see the love of his life, and otherwise communicating minimally through email and video recordings would have been a very lonely time.

There was one particular call a few months in space that Matt had been both looking forward to and dreading at the same time.

It was always a joy for him to see Sora's eyes light up the moment her face appeared on screen and she realized he was looking at her on his side of the atmosphere.

"Hey, Sora," Matt said with a smile. He was dressed down to a casual cotton shirt and jeans since it was his day off.

"Well, if it isn't the 'space man'!" Tai said from the top corner of the screen.

"Matt?!" Mimi's face appeared. "Oh, look at you!"

"Hey, guys!" Matt replied as the whole gang of faces, including his brother, his friends, and their respective spouses, of which the female counterparts had enlarged bellies at various stages of their pregnancies. He had known that Yolei's baby had the earliest due date, thereby making Ken win the Takari Bet, but there had been other news that he had been waiting to tell everyone until that moment.

Izzy was there, too, giving a friendly wave, and even Joe had shown up; he usually made a rare appearance since he was so busy.

But Matt was amused at how Sora managed to convince every one of their friends to gather together this time around.

"Sora must've given you a convincing reason to show up today," Matt said with a chuckle.

"Why wouldn't we be here?" Davis chimed in, seeming to squeeze in between Tai and Izzy. "We wanted to talk to Mr. Cool Guy In Space!"

"It is pretty neat to see how normal it can look up there," Iori observed.

"Aside from that pen floating by his head," added Kari.

Matt looked to Sora who had been smiling but keeping her lips tight. He flashed a knowing smile.

"Sora, why don't you tell them what's really happening?"

"What?"

Every head turned to Sora, and her smile grew from ear to ear.

"Everyone," she began, after taking a deep breath. "I'm finally ready to tell you - I'm pregnant!"

The cheers erupted on Sora's end of the call. Mimi was the first to leap toward Sora to hug her. Matt laughed as he watched Tai, Davis, and TK cheering in excitement.

Matt was relieved that it was out in the open. He was the first to find out about a month into being in the International Space Station, when he and Sora cried with joy together over video chat. Seeing her glowing smile as she hugged all of her friends urged him to break into tears once again.

"I... guess I'm having... a kid last then...eh... Matt?" Tai said, putting his arm around Sora after they exchanged a hug.

Matt hoped that his glare pierced through Tai all the way from space. He knew that Tai's dragged out question was to emphasize his smug acknowledgment of achievement. Matt had known all along that he wasn't going to win the Takari Bet. He had already mentally accepted defeat; the only thing he dreaded was the moment that Tai discovered his inevitable victory.

Besides that, Sora still hadn't known about their competition, and Matt wasn't about to let Tai tell her about it now.

But Sora raised her brow as she looked at Tai's smirk.

"I wouldn't be surprised, given that you're a kid in a grown man's body," Sora replied.

Matt couldn't have been happier to see the change of Tai's expression.

"Hey, I got married, didn't I? That makes me a grown up."

"Yeah," said Matt. "She still married a kid."

"Matt's right," Tai's wife said in the background.

Sora and Matt began to laugh as Tai was at a loss on how to respond next. He and his own wife - he loved how they made a great team against Tai.

Their laughter was cut short, however, when they heard an odd groan from off camera.

"Whoa, honey, you alright?" Davis asked as he and the others turned to the direction where the sound came from. Sora and Tai disappeared and Davis followed quickly. TK appeared on camera next.

"TK, what's going on?" Matt asked.

But Davis' loud announcement answered for him: "We've gotta go. Her water just broke!"

Davis' words were of cheer, and Matt swore he heard some mischievous cackling. Although no one else said anything, Matt knew why. The due date for Davis' baby was set for after Yolei's baby. At that moment, Yolei screamed as she jumped up out of her chair.

"No!" she cried, and everyone fell silent as they looked at her. "...way!" she added.

"Don't start this now, Yolei," Matt heard Ken say as he grabbed her shoulders and walked toward the door where everyone else was headed. Ken had put his brave face on, knowing how this affected the Takari Bet. He also seemed to show a slight tinge of annoyance, but Matt could only empathize with the other man who also had to admit defeat.

Then Kari appeared on screen, and Sora popped in next to TK soon after. "Hey hon," Sora said. "Looks like the party's over. We're all heading to the hospital soon."

"Okay, then," said Matt. "Love you."

"Love you!" Sora said before disappearing again. "TK, turn off the camera?"

"Hai, Onee-san!" said TK.

"Aren't you both going, too?" Matt asked TK and Kari next to him, who grinned with giddiness.

"In a bit." TK then shared a glance with Kari before looking at the camera and lowering his voice. "Listen, when you get back, do you think you could spare some yen?"

Knowing this was referring to Ken's loss, Matt responded with, "You can make 5000 yen easily, TK."

"It's 25,000," Kari replied.

Matt grimaced. "That's still money you can make, but you really put that much money for your bets?"

"I bet the 5K on Ken being first.. And you know me and Kari, we go all in for our big bros."

Matt rolled his eyes as TK smiled with his tongue sticking out.

"Sora said to turn off the camera."

"You love me, right?"

"We'll talk later, TK. Bye, Kari."

Matt ignored the air smooches that TK and Kari scrunched their lips together side by side as Matt pushed to end the call.

~*~*~*~*~*~

About a month before Matt was set to return to Japan, Sora sent a message for him to get in touch with her as soon as he could. It had become the norm for them to have weekly video chats, so having a call in the middle of the week was out of the ordinary for him.

In fact, Matt was worried about why she wanted to talk to him so soon. He wondered if something went wrong back on Earth; maybe, if she found out some news about the baby.

When her face appeared on the video call screen, he couldn't read her expression.

"Hey, love," she said. "I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."

"No, not at all, Sora," Matt replied, trying to hide his anxiety as he waited for her reason.

"There's someone I want you to see."

Someone? His eyes immediately moved to her stomach, where he saw that she was still carrying their first born inside of her belly.

Sora laughed as she recognized where he was looking. "I knew you'd assume it was the baby. We've still got a ways to go."

Matt had to laugh in relief. He expected to be at her side the moment their child was born and he wouldn't have missed it for the world.

"Okay, then, who is this someone?" he asked.

That was when Sora moved to the side from the camera and Matt drew in a long breath of surprise.

A familiar face appeared and drew closer to the screen, her bright blue eyes blinking and her beak seeming to touch the screen from the other side. Her pink feathers nearly covered the whole screen.

"Matt! Sora? Can he see me?"

"You don't have to stand so close to it, Biyomon," said Sora, giggling.

Matt was at a loss for words.

"Do you remember how Izzy said he would find a way to bring our Digimon back to us?" Sora asked Matt. "He found a way, Matt. He did it."

Matt's eyes began to sting with tears while he saw Sora wipe her eyes with the back of her hands. He remembered the very moment his own Digimon partner was gone, and those times afterward when he cradled Sora in his arms as she cried about losing hers.

"And now Sora has a Digi-Egg in her tummy!" Biyomon chirped.

"Is that what you told her?" Matt asked Sora, laughing as he wiped his tears away.

"I promise to help take care of your daughter in any way that I can!"

"Before you ask, Matt," Sora added. "She's not the only one who wants to help."

Matt couldn't believe his eyes with what happened next. Sora and Biyomon turned to look off camera, and Sora spoke a name that, even as he'd hoped, Matt didn't think he would hear again.

"Gabumon, why are you so far away?" Biyomon asked.

"Sora said not to stand so close to the camera," Gabumon said with a pout.

"Come over here, so that Matt can see you!" Sora said.

As soon as the blue furried Digimon appeared on screen, he blinked and he smiled cheerfully.

"It's so good to see you, Matt," he said.

"Gabumon…"

Matt couldn't stop crying. He wondered if he was crying as hard as he did when Gabumon disappeared before his very eyes. His tears blurred his vision, and he might have been convinced that Gabumon would disappear as soon as the tears washed the unbelievable sight away.

"Gabumon, are you real?" Matt had to ask.

"As real as the Digi-Egg inside of Sora!" Gabumon said with a grin.

"She told you that, too."

Matt was laughing now with his tears streaming down. That moment was enough to believe that Gabumon was real, and so was Biyomon, and the fact that only Izzy would find the miracle to bring the Digimon partners back. He couldn't wait to return home to hold Sora, and to hug Gabumon, two figures of his life that made him feel whole.

[abitnotgoodiebag]

Blur

Title: Blur

Square Filled: I1 - Did they or didn’t they?

Warnings: drunkenness and terrible mental gymnastics

Word Count: 2,881

Summary: Sam thinks he needs an aspirin, better yet, he needs to get up outta here.

Link to AO3

Blur

Sam groans as he swims back into consciousness.  Both his brain and his tongue are unpleasantly fuzzy and he wants nothing more than a cool washcloth, a cold glass of water and complete darkness and silence for the next decade.  He is too old to be drinking himself into terrible hangovers.  He knows the importance of staying hydrated and yet, here he is again, wishing for death to claim him. Sam can certainly say that he has never been the best at making good decisions.

As Sam debates the pros and cons of moving from his comfortable cocoon, he becomes aware of the sounds of soft snores uncomfortably close to him.  He feels the body heat of someone else underneath the sheets of his (is it his?) bed. He also realizes very suddenly that he doesn’t have a single stitch of clothing on.

Shit.

Sam tries to think of who could possibly be behind him snuffling softly in slumber.  The fact that he’s naked probably means that they are too and Sam could slap himself for the second time in as many minutes.  The pounding in his head doesn’t help at all with his mood and Sam may have finally found the reason to quit drinking altogether.  Waking up with strangers in bed is definitely something that is part of his twenties, not to be done when he’s staring at the front steps of forty.

Sam curses the fact that he is the first one to wake up and debates whether or not moving will wake his bedmate.  His memories of the night before are patchy at best and the more he tries to piece together his time at the hotel, the more alarmed he becomes.

-------------------------------------

It was the one year anniversary of the battle against Thanos and Sam would rather have been anywhere else.  The country was not as accepting of Sam as they had been of Steve. Sam didn’t want to think too closely about why exactly that was (because it was way too easy to get angry and what would that solve?), but there were days that he just wished his detractors would say what they really meant, and not use their carefully-coded acrimonious checklists on why Sam would never be Steven Grant Rogers.  Every single decision Sam made was examined under a microscope in the media. /r/notmycap can’t go a week without some viral thread castigating him and slightly less often, Bucky (It’s always the ‘Winter Soldier’ or ‘The Asset’ though, they seem determined to remind the world that Bucky had a violent and unsavoury past).

If the bad press wasn’t enough, the list of full time Avengers was embarrassingly short.  The Defenders did their own thing, as did Reed’s little group. It almost wasn’t worth anyone’s time trying to talk to Charles Xavier unless the subject was mutant rights (not that there was a problem with that, Sam definitely knew how stupid people could be around anything they perceived as 'different').  No one wanted to work with the reformed psychopathic (his words, Sam wasn’t convinced) mercenary, well, Peter was trying to tell everyone that he wasn’t so bad but Sam wasn’t touching that with a ten foot pole.  Sam, Bucky, Rhodes, and Wanda were all that was left of the Avengers Initiative.  Sure they had emergency and consulting members, but the fact was, Sam was barely captain of anyone.

Sam’s cheerless thoughts had him spending his time at the bar, after quickly making the initial rounds to greet everyone.  He had to admit, Pepper knew how to throw a party.  While there weren’t a lot of full-time Avengers, Thanos had united the entire world against him, and so the rented ballroom (in the most fashionable of hotels) was full-to-bursting.  He scanned his eyes across the room taking in the small groups that didn’t quite mesh together. Thor and his new traveling companions, the Guardians of the Galaxy stood in a loose circle laughing entirely too loudly.  Thor finally found a group who also lacked inside voices, Sam was happy for him. He looked better than he did that day.  That too-long day that Sam went to battle in the fields Wakanda and ended the fight on the remains of their battered home in New York five years and mere seconds later.  

Sam was glad he wasn’t around to see Thor's slow slide into misery.  He had heard Steve (over the phone, Sam still can't quite look at his wrinkled face) tell him the stories of Thor’s grief at losing his father, brother, best friend, and planet within a week only to lose half of existence the very next day.  Sam couldn’t imagine that pain.

Sam dealt with a different sort of grief.  He had missed five years. Five years of his mother's life, five years of his niece’s life. ��Unfortunately so had her mother, his sister.  Sam would never understand how his mother dealt with losing both of her children for five years, believing them gone for good.  His house and belongings were all long gone, leaving him and Bucky to scramble to find an apartment together in the aftermath on the ‘Unsnappening’ (fucking twitter called it that and unfortunately it seemed to be stuck).  He refused to put any more stress on his mom by moving back in when Kayla had to get used to her mother being back.  Besides, it was just easier to live with Barnes. He didn’t have any memories of those five years, as far as he could tell no one did, but he couldn’t help but feel it in his bones that he had spent the time with Bucky.

Shaking his head to dispel that line of thought, Sam looked for his best friend.  They had arrived together, as usual, but Bucky was quickly called over by Yo-Yo and Shaw, both of them eager to hang out with the soldier (he’d taken to being a SHIELD operative surprisingly well, all things considered, he even had work friends, Sam was proud of him).

Turning back to the bartender, Sam ordered an old fashioned.  He had recently discovered that between the two of them somehow Sam was the hipster, even though Bucky had refused to give up his ridiculous (fucking beautiful, if Sam was being honest) man bun.  Sam refused to listen to modern music (unless it was Beyonce, but really, it’s Beyonce it goes without saying) and read his paper at the table instead of staring at his phone all the time.  Sam couldn’t help it, he was an old soul and he had endured Bucky’s teasing goodnaturedly.  He absolutely drew the line at handlebar moustaches and penny-farthings though.

“Birdman number two!”  Clint said in what he probably thought was an acceptable volume, clapping Sam on the back.

Sam startled and grinned as he saw his fellow bird-themed hero.  “Barton! How is life treating you?”

“Can’t complain.”  He said with a cheeky smile as he leaned toward Sam and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “If I do, Laura will give me the old boot.  But I’d deserve it because she is the world’s greatest wife.”

“Damn right I am.”  Said Laura as she appeared next to her husband.

Sam sipped his drink and watched them bicker gently.  He loved that in a couple. Sure the schmoopy ones were cute and all, but life is always better with laughter and it was clear the Barton’s were full of laughter.  They excused themselves after two rounds, Laura saying that she was tired and Sam was once again left to his thoughts.

Before he could sink into them too deeply, his eyes landed on Bucky standing next to a scowling Valkyrie and taking a swig out of Thor’s comically enormous flask (Just because he was doing better didn’t mean that he wasn’t still struggling).  Sam smiled slowly at the blush that spread across Bucky’s face after his second long pull. Seems like Thor brought the good stuff.

Sam, armed with his bourbon and a liquid loss of inhibitions, (after the second old-fashioned, Sam wondered why he was even pretending to do anything other than get hammered and stopped bothering with anything more complicated) pushed away from the bar and headed in Bucky’s direction.  

“Hey there my good people.”  Sam smiled lightly as he reached Bucky, Thor, and Valkyrie.  “Is this the 5000 proof section?”

Bucky rolled his eyes fondly after his last pull and passed the flask to Val, Thor letting out a brief sad noise in his throat, knowing he wasn’t going to get another swig any time soon.  “Sure is, pigeon. This is the cool kids table and you can’t sit with us!”

“Ten points to Hufflepuff for correct use of Gretchen Wieners.”  Sam said as Bucky looked confused. Belatedly, Sam realized that they hadn’t gotten to the Harry Potter series yet, Bucky picking both Star Wars and Star Trek (every single iteration, Bucky was obsessed) instead.

“Friend Falcon-Captain!  It feels good to have a night of revelry with all of my shield-broth-”  Thor stopped, his smile faltering slightly. “My shield-mates! Let us toast!”

Sam tossed back the last few drops of his bourbon while Thor waited for Valkyrie to pass him the flask.  Bucky just snorted at Thor’s naivete and headed towards the bar to grab a less alien drink. He reappeared a minute later with three glasses and handed two to Sam and Thor respectively.  They clinked their glasses and drained half of their short tumblers as Valkyrie finally drained the flask.

Bucky and Valkyrie let out loud (and surprisingly deep) twin belches sending Thor and Sam into a fit of giggles.  Bucky joined in their laughter while Val just rolled her eyes and walked off in the direction of the bar, no doubt in search of a bottle or two to occupy her hands.

“What’s so funny?”  Shaw asked, coming up behind Sam and throwing his arm around Sam’s shoulder and resting his chin on the other one.  Yo-Yo circled around to bump robotic shoulders with Bucky causing Sam an immediate sharp flare of jealousy in his gut. Yo-Yo and Bucky shared too many similarities for Sam to not see her as a potential threat for Bucky’s time and affection.  

“Bucky was just showing us how to play the tummy pipes.”  Sam said, his words slightly slurred.  His laughter stopped abruptly.

Sam’s smile fell away and Bucky noticed immediately.  He glanced briefly to Shaw draped over Sam before he was somber as well, leaving Thor confused as to what exactly was happening.

“Oh-kaaaay.” Shaw drawled as he picked his head off of Sam’s shoulder, leaving his arm curled around Sam's neck.  Sam was confused, Shaw was Bucky’s friend, they’d met maybe 4 times total, but if Sam were to guess, he’d bet he was less intimidating to use as a prop than the once-king of Asgard or a super soldier.

Yo-Yo raised an eyebrow.  “It seems like we need to catch up with you guys.  I could smell you from a foot away.”

Shaw hummed in agreement even though he was clearly ahead of Yo-Yo too if his inability to stand up straight was any indication.  “Valkyrie went off for more, but I fear that she does not intend to share anything she finds.” Thor said, sounding vaguely disappointed.  “So I must go and fetch us another round!” He looked very proud of himself for thinking of that as he turned and strode away.

“He is amazing.”  Shaw sighed, “What’s his deal anyway?  Why doesn’t he stay here full-time?”

Bucky glared at Shaw and Sam watched on in confusion.  So now it’s not just Yo-Yo he has to worry about, now Bucky has a thing for Thor?  Sam (not for the first time) thinks sadly, that he’s just a man.  He’s no Inhuman, he has no enhancements, he’s from plain old Harlem, not some mythical planet, and he can’t call lightning with a thought.  He’s just Sam and maybe all he would do is slow Bucky down. So zoned out, Sam jerked when Shaw and Bucky laughed, making the room wobble unpleasantly. His obvious distraction just caused them to laugh harder while Yo-Yo’s lips curled into a small smile.

Sam, who realized he was the butt of some joke, flipped them off, making Shaw start all over again, finally taking his arm off Sam’s shoulder to cradle his midsection as he bent forward, cackling madly.

Thor returned with a tray full of shot glasses.  “Let us drink!”

“Damn big guy, you do not mess around, do you?”  Shaw sounded awestruck as he straightened up and Sam was not at all bitter about everyone’s obsessions with Thor.

Yo-Yo and Bucky grabbed two apiece, taking them in rapid succession just a hint of redness on their cheeks indicating that they were drinking anything other than water.

Shaw grabbed two shots, holding one out to Sam smiling wide, “Us normies gotta stick to our singles.  I can’t believe we’re more meat and no tech and still manage to be the lightweights.”

Sam laughed at Shaw’s dig, even as he seethed inside at Bucky leaning down to murmur something to Yo-Yo, eyes on Sam the whole time.  Thor ignored all of them in favor of knocking two shots back one-handed, looking disappointed at their flavor.

Sam, now unable to remember exactly how much he had already had, felt that being upright was overrated and sat down, hard.  Bucky glanced at him in concern, opening his mouth to ask if Sam was alright, but Sam glared back insolently and Bucky’s jaw snapped shut and he turned back to Yo-Yo who had been watching them in amusement.

Shaw grabbed two of the last four shots and again passed one down to Sam, shrugging.  “To bad choices!”  

Sam quickly echoed the toast and gulped the offered drink before clumsily getting off the floor, not finding it comfortable craning his neck up at everyone.  Yo-Yo ambled away, tray in hand, clearly off to refill it. Sam saw Bucky moving out of his peripheral vision, but by the time he turned his head to get a proper look, Bucky was nowhere to be seen.

---------------------------------------

Sam squeezes his eyes shut as he realizes that the last person he can remember talking to was that irksome weirdo, Deke Shaw.  Bucky had left him at the party alone with Shaw, clearly chasing after Yo-Yo. Sam is gripped by a combination of self-loathing and envy that almost chokes the air from him. He will never forgive himself if he has tumbled into bed with that asshole.  This whole situation is entirely backwards. He’s pining after a grumpy, nerdy, absolutely gorgeous white boy from the past, not a strange, trouble-magnet from god-knows-when in the weird-ass future.  

Sam knows who he wishes it was behind him.  Every day he tries his hardest to be the best friend (who is he kidding, he’s doing a great boyfriend audition and has been for months) to Bucky.  After living together for almost a year, they have a certain bond, but not quite the type Sam wants.  He thinks Bucky wants it too, most of the time, but Sam knows better than to try and rush something before its’ time.  Sam’s father always told him that anything worth having was worth waiting for if necessary and James Barnes was definitely worth having.

The person behind him snores loudly once, before Sam feels a hand reach around his middle, drawing him back into a firm torso.  Sam freezes immediately, afraid to look down and finally solve the mystery. The body he's trapped against is mostly warm. Mostly, because Sam can definitely feel the not-quite-cool smoothness of what Sam will bet everything he owns is vibranium against his shoulder blade.

Sam relaxes and very slowly, smiles.  All of the hatred at himself for possibly ending up with anyone else leaves him as almost quickly as it came.  He can't wait for Bucky to tell him everything.  Or Thor.  Or even Yo-Yo, even though Sam will make Bucky do all the talking if that's the route they have to go.  Sam is willing to bet he has some interesting message on his phone if he bothered to check it (If it was even still on at this point, who knows how late in the day it is).  Knowing that he’s lying here with Bucky surrounding him makes the not remembering much easier. He has no regrets other than not committing every single detail of the previous night to memory to constantly replay over and over and over again.

Satisfied that it is indeed Bucky he’s woken up with (Sam breathes in deep and could slap himself, how did he not smell the traces of his own body wash?  Bucky is always stealing it instead of using his boring bar of soap and smelling himself on Bucky drives Sam crazy) makes it easy to let his eyes fall shut and let the hangover pass. His best friend (and maybe, hopefully, probably, finally more) is curled around him keeping out the noise and light of the world and Sam needs to sleep this hangover off.  He smiles to himself as he focuses on the soft snores and drifts into a peaceful sleep. Sam knows that everything is going to be just dandy.

[ladyluck678]

Steven Universe: The Malevolent Shard

Deep in a remote canyon, a dark and spiteful weapon was forgotten over 5,500 years ago during the Gem Rebellion. Can the Crystal Gems with the help of Blue Diamond stop the darkness before it consumes them? Join Steven as he tries to stop this menace while strengthening the his friendship with the "merciful" Blue Diamond. Set a few months after CYM in the (mostly) canon universe.

Once again, just posting some of my writing that I said I’d share but then never do. Don’t know if I’ll post the entire story but, here’s the AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398669/chapters/48383983

(Maybe if enough folks ask I’ll post the entire work.)

Chapter 1: Arrival

Homeworld, in its broken glory, was a stunning spectacle when its sun rose. All of its crystal spires, quartz guards, and polished pathways reflecting a brilliant mirror shine as if yearning to be just as bright as the star it orbited around.

Blue Diamond barely gave the sight more than a glance; however, there was work to be done.

She had to consult with Yellow Diamond on a rather urgent request, and Yellow wouldn't be overly pleased with what Blue had agreed to.

She stepped past some burly Topaz guards into Yellow's golden palace grounds and quickly walked over to her private chambers. Anyone requesting to see Yellow Diamond needed an appointment, and appointments were rarely made voluntarily... But Blue always had free range to come and go as she pleased, and when she walked up to the large amber doors to Yellow's chamber, they opened without hesitation.

“Ah! Blue Diamond! Please follow me.” Blue couldn't help but smile a little, her expression expertly hidden in the shade of her veil. Yellow's pearl, she was a high strung creature but very diligent in her duties.

“My Diamond, Blue Diamond, is here for an audience.”

The little yellow pearl saluted as she spoke, “That will be all pearl.” The small gem bowed once more to Blue as she made her way back to the entrance.

The room was dim, a majority of the light coming from the consoles and screens that Yellow had up around her. Blue sauntered over to the chair that Yellow occupied, “You've been here since the middle of the day yesterday, haven't you?”

She let the veil that covered her head slip down on to her shoulders as she sat on the arm of the chair.

“I'm reorganizing the armies in sector 3874. I called off the invasion on the system there.” The gold general took a deep breath after she stated what she was doing and sat back. A long pause drew out after the revelation.

Blue wrapped her arm around the latter's shoulder and kissed her gently on the temple. “Things are changing, for better or worse, I suppose.” Yellow said reflectively, “However, I'm sure you're not here to listen to me muse.”

The golden diamond clasped the blue hand that was delicately touching the gem on her chest. “I am, as always, at your service, my darling.”

A mischievous smile drew across Blue Diamond's face. “You won't say that once I tell you what I'm up to. I need to discuss with you my plans to visit Earth. Steven spoke with me at length last night; there's a particularly nasty weapon giving the Crystal Gems some problems.”

“So, you're going to drop everything and go to Earth?” Yellow Diamond's brow knit together; she was trying to digest what was said.

“Blue, while I'll agree that our relations with Steven are much better, I don't feel comfortable with you going there on your own. We're not exactly friends with the Crystal Gems...”

Yellow gave the elegant blue gem sitting next to her a piercing look. “Why don't you order an Aquamarine and some Topaz soldiers to go again?”

Blue shook her head and got up abruptly. “No, that didn't go well at all last time, and we need to build some trust with the gems residing there. Besides, wouldn't you feel bad if something happened to Steven? We put a lot of dangerous weapons and relics in place during the rebellion.”

White had also placed some nasty artifacts on the Earth in an attempt to quell the rebellion. The relic in question was admittedly from White’s arsenal of weapons. Blue had to dig particularly deep in her archives to find the specifics. After researching for a couple of cycles, she knew Steven and his unorthodox court of gems, and humans would need assistance.

“We are ultimately responsible my love.” Yellow looked at the resolved Blue Diamond and sighed.

Blue had a look of pure determination in her eyes that Yellow hadn't seen in thousands of years (about 5000). She got up and walked over to her cerulean queen and wrapped her arms around her waist.

Blue reciprocated by placing her arms around Yellow's neck, “For the record, I don’t approve.”

Blue arched a thin eyebrow, “Noted.”

“I'd also like a full report of whatever this weapon is.” Blue's brow narrowed in annoyance; it was a millennia's old argument between them about who would handle what situation when intelligence and military oversight crossed into each other.

“You know that artifacts, intelligence, and policy are well under my purview.”

“Yes, but this a weapon as well, putting it in the peripheral of my responsibilities.”

“Why do I get the distinct feeling that this is more about me traveling solo to Earth than it is about your responsibilities?”

The pair didn't break the embrace; it was clear; however, that Yellow was incredibly agitated at Blue questioning the general's judgment.

“Because the last time I let someone important to me travel to that dammed planet by themselves to face possible danger, I lost them forever!”

There it was, it actually shocked the both of them. Ever since the Diamonds had found Pink Diamond (or her son rather), Yellow had been more forthcoming with her feelings.

Blue didn't expect such a significant admission, and neither did Yellow, judging by the contorted look on her face and the tears in the corners of her eyes.

Blue drew herself a little closer, their noses almost touching. She cupped Yellow's cheek with soft fingers, thumb caressing a strong chin.

“Let me handle this, I won't belong. I'll even send you the data on the object I'm dealing with.” Voice soft as crushed velvet. Blue tenderly kissed the corner of Yellow's mouth, letting it linger for a moment before parting and resting her forehead against Yellow's.

Against her better judgment, the golden matriarch relented with a heavy sigh; “You're going to have to be more discreet than last time you visited...” ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Steven sat on the sandy beach in front of his home with a large rose-colored lion napping behind him. Lion was his name as well, and Steven thought that maybe a more original name would be appropriate. But then again, the overly large pink cat behind him was unique enough.

“So, she said three days, right?” Connie Maheswaran was sitting next to Steven, leaning back on Lion. Her warm brown eyes questioning as she looked at the sky. It was dusk, and the first stars of the evening were poking through some pastel-colored clouds.

“She said three Earth Sol cycles, I hope that means three days, it's hard to tell with gems sometimes.”

Connie smiled, the concept of time for a gem compared to a human were very different things; a gem could live for tens of thousands of years. What was three days or even 30 years to beings that were almost immortal? “I'm pretty sure that's what she meant.” Connie smiled at Steven, and he smiled back, best friends forever.

Just as soon as the two children got back to their comfortable silence, a booming sound came from the sky far above them. The unmistakable sight of a fiery entrance into Earth's atmosphere. However, instead of landing in front of the beach, the foreign object made its way to the far side of Beach City. Only tall cliffs and large seaweed-covered rocks occupied this part of the coast.

“That has to be her!” Steven said wide-eyed. “Come on, Lion, warp us to the cliffs!” Lion only grumped a bit and turned over. “Aw, come on, Lion! It'll take forever to get to that side on foot!” Steven huffed in frustration as Connie laughed.

“Fine, I'll get you two Lion Lickers if you get us over there, one for bringing me and one for Connie. What do you think, buddy?” Lion stood up and stretched as both Connie and Steven got on the large cat's back, seemingly pleased with the bargain. (Who knew you could haggle with a lion?)

With a mighty roar, the trio was instantly warped to where the ship landed. ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The ship was a much smaller version of the arm ships that the Diamond Authority used. In fact, it was the same model ship that Peridot was using when the Crystal Gems first had a physical altercation with her and Jasper. This ship, however, was colored blue and in typical fashion, landed palm up.

An encapsulated sphere soon appeared in the palm and collapsed almost as soon as it appeared, revealing a shrouded Blue Diamond.

Near 50ft in height, she still managed to gracefully jump to the rocky beach (careful to not make too much of a ruckus).

“Steven, I'm so happy to see you!” She said with her soft lilting accent, smiling.

“Blue! You made it, I'm so glad you're here!” Steven and Connie got off Lion and began walking towards the large blue woman. She held out her left hand, palm out to stop them from proceeding further.

“Just a moment, Steven, I want my visit to be... less disruptive than last time.” The shrouded figure then turned and lifted her right hand, the ship levitated unnaturally and following Blue's movements flipped palm down and then into a fist. Finally, it was submerged under the salty waves of the ocean.

Satisfied with how the ship was stowed, Blue let her shroud slip off her shoulders. Her projection shimmered around her gem into a bright light, then contorted and curled into a much smaller version of herself. Deep breath in, then out as she stretched. Gems didn't need to breath, but it had its uses.

Blue looked over to the children, and her smile grew wider. Steven had nothing but stars in his eyes as he stared with his jaw dropped open. Even his human friend Connie had an astonished expression (the sizeable pink animal only regarded her with a snort).

“Blue, you can do that!?” Steven ran up. He jumped in the cerulean matriarch's arms, she caught him effortlessly. She planted a few wet kisses on his cheek in rapid succession. “Of course, I can! You're so silly, Steven, all gems can do this.”

Connie walked up as Blue set Steven back on the ground, she crouched in front of them so she could speak to the pair at eye level.

“So, you are well?” She looked at both children intensely, questioningly.

The diamond reached out to the young human girl, and Connie hesitantly gave her hand to Blue. She gently wrapped her elegant fingers around the small dark hand, almost completely engulfing it.

Connie is important to Steven. She wasn't just a “pet,” as was first thought. The young gem hybrid had a very high opinion of the little human girl, so that was something worth noting.

The boy was distraught, Blue picked up on his anxiety almost instantly when they had conversed nearly three days ago.

Connie had injured herself while defending Steven, and now held the appendage that was damaged during the Crystal Gem's attempt to try and neutralize the artifact in question.

Steven cared so much for this girl... If she were important to him, then Blue would endeavor to care for her, too; she had to at least try. She needed to listen, to understand, the past could not be repeated...

Blue snapped out of her musing, an urgent question spilling off her tongue, “No permanent harm was done to either of you?”

Steven paused and scuffed the sand with his feet. “I healed Connie's broken arm, and Amethyst was almost poofed, but she's okay.”

"Poofed," a slang term that the Crystal Gems used instead of dissipation, were a gem's form was damaged and brought down to its base component.

“Hey, uh, let's go to my house and talk about this. Garnet and the others are gonna want to hear what you have to say about this thing. Honestly, we don't even have a name for it... we didn't even get a look. Just a horrible feeling.”

The gem matriarch nodded and stood, Steven gently tugging her robes in the direction home.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 34: The Sports Festival Part 7: Round Three—FIGHT!

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia!

Earlier chapters can be found here

“Yay, she’s waking up!”

Katsumi’s eyes sprung open and she found herself staring into the wide-eyed face of a little blond five year old.  Her younger brother, Tai.  Instantly, he threw his arms around her and squeezed her tight.

Slowly, she put her arms around him.  “Easy there, Squirt,” she said.  “I still kind of feel like I got run over by a train.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his arms away.  “Sorry, Big Sister!  But I was so worried about you!  Papa and Daddy were too!”

“He’s right,” a voice from the foot of the bed said.  Katsumi looked past Tai to see Dad and Papa standing there, Papa looking visibly relieved and even Dad looking slightly more relaxed.

“You have us quite the scare, Kid,” Dad said.  “I had to keep your papa here from rushing the stage.”

Papa turned nearly as red as his hair.  “So I got a little worried!  I’m allowed! It’s my right as a parent!”

“It’s your right to be a dumb…butt,” Dad said, quickly correcting his last word, since he was in front of Tai.

It was only then that Katsumi realized she was in the infirmary.  It all came back to her in a rush, the fight, the numerous chunks of ice she’d taken to the head.  She was certainly never going to underestimate Izzy like that ever again.

Wait.

“Izzy!” she shrieked, making Tai jump in surprise.  And she was probably lucky it didn’t make him explode.  His Quirk to explode himself and reform was on something of a hair-trigger. Dad was teaching him to control it, but accidents still happened. “Is she…?”

“She’s fine,” Dad said. “IcyHot just texted me before you woke up.  Just exhausted herself.  You two smacked each other around pretty good.”

Papa crossed his arms over his chest.  “You gave us quite a shock, young lady,” he said, attempting to look stern and failing at it, like he always did.  “Almost throwing in the towel like that!  What were you thinking?”

Katsumi looked down for a moment.  “Yeah, well, just needed a few things pounded into my head, I guess.”

“Speaking of pounding your head, don’t worry,” Dad said.  “Eri already fixed your nose and wound back some of your other injuries. You’ll be scrapping again in no time.”

“Such a Manly display!” Papa added, his hands in the air in a cheer.  “Both of you, giving it all your fighting spirit!”  

Dad gave him a punch in the arm, getting a yelp out of Papa.  “Settle down, you.”   He shook his head.  “But I am proud of you, Kid.  You made the fight decision, fighting.  Still, now I owe IcyHot ¥5000.  So that’s your next several allowances.”   Only the twitching of his lips betrayed that he was probably kidding about that last part.

“You made a bet on our daughter!?” Papa shrieked, placing a hand over his heart.  “Bakubabe, how could you?”

“Relax,” Dad said.  “IcyHot didn’t technically agree to it anyway…”

“I’m sorry you lost, Big Sister,” Tai said, looking so forlorn and sad about it that it took everything Katsumi had not to laugh.  

Dad came up behind him and bent down so he was at eye level with Tai.  “Hey, what’d we talk about, champ?”

“That Big Sister tried her best and gave it her all!  And that she’ll try even harder next time! And then she’ll win!”

“Right!” Dad said. “So no frowning, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Do I get a say in this?” Katsumi asked.

As one, Dad and Tai both said, “No!”

So she hadn’t won. Hadn’t even cracked the top eight finalists.   Top sixteen, sure.  But not nearly as good as she’d have liked.  Dad had come in the top three all three of his years at U.A.  Papa had done better than that too.  Maybe she wasn’t as good as she thought she was?  

No, she couldn’t go down that line of thought.  She’d been ready to throw in the towel without even trying and come out of that pit motivated to fight as hard as she could.  One blow different, maybe one or two different moves, maybe she’d have been the one coming up on top.  The important thing was that she’d done the Wo-Manly thing and fought to the very end. That was what she had to keep in mind.

“They gonna let me out of here to go see the rest of the show?” she asked.  “I wanna see more of the girl that kicked Monoma’s… butt.”  Right.  Gotta watch the language around Tai.  “Plus Izzy. Did the math.  Whoever won was gonna get to kick the Newb around the ring for a while.  Sorry it ain’t me.  I’d say she’d go soft on him, but she sure as heck didn’t on me…”

Papa nodded.  “Eri said you were good to go when you woke up.”

“But you are supposed to take it easy the next couple days,” Dad added, his tone of voice suggesting he didn’t believe she would.  “Which is why Tai’s going to be on guard duty.”

Tai drew himself up to his full height, proudly.  “I’ll be the best bodyguard ever!”

Katsumi reached over and tussled his hair.  “Sure you will, Squirt.”

***

***

It had taken them a bit to clear the rubble and ice that Katsumi and Izumi’s fight had created, with FireFox melting away the ice and Power Loader and a couple Support Class students clearing away the rubble.  So by the time Toshi stepped into the ring, it was practically fresh.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ignoring the sounds of the crowd.  As the son of the Number One Hero, he’d been in the public eye since he was a baby.  Before he was born, really.  It was easy enough to tune it out.  And he was definitely going to need his wits about him for the fight ahead.  He wasn’t bothered by fighting his girlfriend from a relationship-damaging point of view.  No, he was worried about it because his girlfriend was a) crazy brilliant, b) crazy fast, and c) crazy unpredictable.  It made it very hard to figure out what Sora was going to do next under normal circumstances, let alone in a fight.

“And now, it’s another Class 1-A showdown!” Present Mic announced. “Toshinori Midoriya and Sora Iida!  One a master of gravity, the other an aerial ace!  Will this battle be won in the skies or down on the ground?  Only one way to find out!”

“Just tell me someone has All Might accounted for.”

That was a bit unfair, Toshi thought.  Grandpa Might hadn’t tried spying on him a few weeks now.  That he knew of, anyway.

Hawkeye looked back and forth between him and Sora.  “Remember the flight ceiling rule,” she told both of them.  “We’ve got cameras and range-finders set up to catch anything. Other than that…  FIGHT!”

“My apologies, Toshi, but this victory will be mine!”  Sora shouted, before launching herself at him like a missile, the Jetpack pipes on her back firing.  

Toshi knew he only had a couple of seconds to act and brought his own gravity down to almost nothing, leaping over Sora just before she impacted with him. “Don’t be so sure about that!” he said, as he turned in midair, landing facing the other direction, as she executed a tight turn to keep herself from going out of the ring.

Sora came at him again. He couldn’t help to match her speed flat out, but so long as he acted in time, he could keep out of her reach. Each time he forced her to turn around, he gained a few precious seconds to think and formulate his own strategy.   He leapt over her again, steadying himself for the next go round.

She was racing for him again, her Jetpack still firing strong.  Toshi wasn’t sure what Sora’s limits were, didn’t know how long she could keep this up.  But he’d seen her fly for long stretches before during training and they hadn’t even hit that amount of time yet.  It made just outlasting her a dicey proposition at best and foolish at worst.

This time, when he jumped, he twisted in mid-air again, not to adjust his landing, but to give him a chance to grab her.  His hand snapped out, grabbing her ankle.  Of course, he was still near-weightless at the time, so he was dragged along as she kept flying.  

“Be careful,” Sora said, executing a tighter turn than before.  “I would hate to see you go flying!”

Instead of a straight path, she jerked back and forth, zigzagging to try and dislodge him.  Toshi had to close his eyes to keep from throwing up. He didn’t have Mom’s problems with nausea, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t just flat out get motion sickness.

Concentrating, he increased his gravity to three times its normal amount, his feet making cracks in the ground as they impacted with it.  Still holding on to Sora, he fought against her pull as she increased the power to her Jetpack, to the point where he had to increase his gravity more and dig in his heels… and even then, he was slowly starting to be dragged across the ring, digging great gouges in the concrete!

So he did the only logical thing.   He let go.

Sora shot forward like a rocket, no longer impeded by his increased gravity.  At the last second before she would have gone out of the ring, tilted sharply upward, flying up into the air, before circling around to come at him again.   This time, Toshi tried to meet her head on.  He brought his gravity back down to nearly nothing, took several steps back, and then, with a running start, jumped into the air.  Unaffected by gravity’s pull, it was like being fired out of a canon. Seconds before impacted with Sora, he increased his gravity, turning himself into a human canon ball.

POW!

He slammed into his girlfriend with considerable force, causing her to cry out, nearly knocking him from the air.  Toshi bounced off, falling back to the ground, and springing back up again. This time, she was faster, striking him hard enough to make him fall.  He recovered in time to bounce back up again, this time hitting Sora hard enough to make her fall.  As he drifted back to the ground, she righted herself, flying back at him and clipping him with her right wing as she went by.

And so it went, blow after blow, each of them nearly falling flat but recovering to strike at the other. But on his last bounce, rather than trying to strike her, Toshi grabbed on, heavily increasing his gravity.

Entangled with Toshi, her Jetpack flared, trying to support both their weights, then faltered, sending them both falling towards the ground.  “I am really sorry about this, okay?” he said.  “But we said no regrets!”   Perhaps just a bit reluctantly, he let Sora go and decreased his own gravity again, floating down.

Sora stopped herself though, her Jetpack Quirk firing in one quick burst before she hit the ground. She landed awkwardly, but was on her feet quickly, ready by the time Toshi’s feet hit the ground.  

“That,” she said, “could have hurt!  But I am willing to forgive you!”  Still on foot, she raced towards him and then activated her Quirk.

He wasn’t expecting it. Sora’s Quirk was primarily flight-based; he hadn’t even thought of her activating it on the ground.  But with it accelerating her body and his own gravity at normal, it added enough power to his punch to snap his head around and have him seeing stars.

Again and again, Sora struck him, punches given extra rocket-propulsion by her Quirk.  If she wasn’t using it to punch the stuffing out of him, he’d have been impressed by her ingenuity.  He just needed to get his head on straight for a second, so he could use his.

And…there.  Sora’s punches were slowing down; she must have been overheating her Jetpack after that much use.  It gave Toshi the moment he needed, amplifying his gravity several times over. Sora’s next blow struck home, but bolstered by his enhanced gravity, he barely felt it.  Surprise rose on her face and she pulled her hand back, clutching her knuckles with her other hand.

There.  This was his moment. Toshi struck out with a right handed blow, a Smash-worthy punch that would have done Grandpa Might proud.  He hit Sora dead on, spinning her around like a top, until she fell to the ground unconscious.

…He really hoped she’d been serious about the “no regrets” thing.

“Iida is unable to continue!” Hawkeye announced.  “Midoriya wins!”

“Talk about your high-speed fights!” Present Mic cheered. “I hope they got that on the slow-motion replay, because that was a rush!”

“At least this one isn’t breaking any bones.”

***

“Absolutely not,” Mother said.  Worry marred her features, and Izumi could see that she had been crying.  “You nearly collapsed during the Obstacle Course, had to be helped off the Quirkball field, and then you did collapse fighting Katsumi.  We can’t allow you to keep up this kind of pace.”

Izumi frowned, uncertain of how to respond, the silence broken only by the slight deep of the monitoring machines Doctor Izumi had hooked her up to. It was true, she had pushed herself to her limits during the Festival so far, perhaps even a bit beyond them.  But was the school motto not “Plus Ultra”?  Still, it had felt good, giving her all, using her abilities to their fullest, even as her body had ached and she had felt exhaustion working its way into her every cell.  So much heat had passed through her body; if not for her regulator rig, she very likely would have burned up, maybe even taken someone with her.  But she had pushed through it and fought.  And won.  Against Katsumi, one of the fiercest fighters in their class.

Her cheek still stung where Katsumi had punched her and she imagined she had a rather nasty bruise forming, perhaps even a black eye.  That, in and of itself, was a victory.  She dearly loved her friend, but she could not have allowed Katsumi to simply throw her chance away like that.  It would have eaten away at her, little by little, poisoning her mind.  Nor, she realized, could she have thrived under such conditions herself.  Katsumi cared for her, protected her, but now understood that she could stand on her own as well.  She only wished she had realized earlier just how deeply her friend’s feelings towards her went.  Even with Katsumi’s confession and their conversation, it had obviously not been as settled as she thought.

“I shall manage, Mother,” she said.  “There is time enough to rest before my next match.”

“Is that really what you want, Izumi?” Father asked. He did not wear his emotions on his sleeve like Mother did, but for someone as familiar with him as she was, they were quite clear.  He was worried about her too, both her physical health and her mental health. The scars, both figurative and literal, of his own upbringing ran deep.  He worried constantly about her limits and pushing her too hard; they had her grandfather to blame for that. “You don’t have to prove anything.  Not to us, not to anyone.”

“Except to myself,” she said.  “I may or may not have the strength to continue the Tournament, but I will not know unless I try.”

“I’m not letting you endanger your health for some point of pride,” Mother said, firmly.  “There’ll be other chances, next year, or…”

“No!” Izumi snapped. “I want to do this.  I need to do this!  I have to know if I can!”

“You’ve got to think about your future, about your health!  You’re just like your father, full of stubborn pride!”

Mother was acting just like Katsumi.  Trying to protect her, look out for her.  But she had left the nest.  She was her to learn to be her best.  And she could not do that if everywhere kept treating her like she would break if left to her own devices or allowed to actually push herself the way others were.

“I am thinking about my future!  How do you think anyone will look upon a future Hero who had to withdraw because she was ‘tired’?”

“Izumi!” Mother snapped, ready to unleash another tirade.

“I think we should let her,” Father said, before either of them could bombard the other with another argument.

Mother shot him an angry glare.  “Shoto, how can you even suggest she…”

Father shook his head. “Were you listening, Momo?  To what she told Katsumi?”

Mother crossed her arms. “Of course I did!  She stood up for herself!  Told Katsumi to take her seriously and not shelter her!  And…”

Her mother trailed off for a moment, then her eyes went wide and she pressed a hand to her mouth.  “And I’m doing the same thing… aren’t I?”

Father crossed the room and put Mother’s shoulders.  “You are. You always have.  I’m guilty of it too.  We both know why.  I understand it.  But we have to let her be try.  You and I both know about too many regrets and what if’s.”

There was something more being unsaid here, Izumi thought.  Something she wasn’t being told.  But she could pursue that line of questioning another day.  For now, her heart beat rapidly in her chest; the possibility that she might actually get to continue was so very close.

Mother frowned.  “I…  You’re right. Of course, you are.  I worry…”   She looked at Izumi again.  “We both worry about you, Izumi.  Always. After how we nearly lost you…  It nearly killed me to see you fighting like that out there.”

Perhaps this wasn’t going her way after all.

“But,” Mother went on, “I suppose I am just going to have to get used to it.  I’ll worry no less when you become a Hero yourself.”

Her parents separated, each taking up a spot on either side of her bed.  “I can’t promise I won’t be a nervous wreck,” Mother said, “but you have my permission to keep fighting.”

“Mine too,” Father said. And then he smiled.  “We’re proud of you, you know.   And I can lord your victory over Bakugo for weeks.”

***

“And now we come to the last fight of the first round!  Asuka Tokoyami versus Kana Tetsutetsu!  The familiar fighter against the steel-fisted striker!  Can Tokoyami’s Frog-Shadow pierce Tetsutetsu’s guard, or will Tetsutetsu’s Iron Fist triumph over the floating, fighting frog?  Let’s find out!”

“Hn.  At least I can count on these two to be sensible in their fight.”

“Are you ready?” Asuka said out loud.

Let me at her, Boss!  I’ll go full amphibian on her!

Frog-Shadow, it seemed, was as excitable as always.  But her other half had demonstrated remarkable synchronicity with her during the other two events, so Asuka was actually confident that Frog-Shadow would fall in line as best she could for this fight.  

Her opponent was no joke. Kana Tetsutetsu was a good friend of both Kirishima-Bakugo and Toshi, as well as Mineta and Koda, so she was hardly a stranger to Class 1-A.  Asuka herself had been getting to know her during Student Council meetings.  And while her Quirk of transforming her arms into metal was a relatively simple one, she backed it up with martial skill that more than made up for the simplicity of her Quirk.

“Ready?” Hawkeye asked, and when they both nodded, the teacher took a step back, out of the ring. “Fight!”

Tetsutetsu gave her a small bow.  “May the best woman win,” she said.

Asuka returned the bow in kind.  “May the best woman win,” she agreed.

And thus the fight began. “Frog-Shadow… go!” Asuka shouted, summoning her familiar.  Frog-Shadow erupted from her midsection, a glowing-green frog-shaped figure of light even in the afternoon sun.

“Face my wrath!” Frog-Shadow shouted, flying towards Tetsutetsu like a spear.

Tetsutetsu wasn’t backing down though, instead, she converted both her arms to shining metal and brought them up in an X in front of her face.  Her “Ultimate Guard” technique, Asuka believed it was called.   Frog-Shadow impacted with a shower of green sparks, but bounced off, looping back around.

But Tetsutestsu didn’t waste any time waiting for Frog-Shadow’s next attack, racing forward. She crossed the distance between the two of them with remarkable speed, putting Asuka immediately on the defensive as she dodged blows from her steely fists.  She had to protect her head.  It was a large enough target and one blow from one of Tetsutetsu’s metal fists was probably all it would take to knock her down.

“Frog-Shadow, to me!” Quickly, the recalled Frog-Shadow and the world went green.

“Oh, you done it now,” Frog-Shadow said, settling over her like a suit of armor.  “We’re breaking out the combo-moves!”

Tetsutetsu just laughed. “Good!  I like a challenge!”  She took a step back and launched a kick towards them, connecting hard. Frog-Shadow’s armor held, but there was still surprising force behind the blow.

“Off!”

“Off!”

The blow knocked Asuka back, even with Frog-Shadow protecting her.   Curse her for a fool, she’d been so focused on Tetsutetsu’s Quirk that she hadn’t been thinking she would fight with anything else.  It was not a mistake she’d be making again.

Tetsutetsu struck out again, this time with a metal arm.  But Asuka got her guard up, blocking it with her left arm and delivering her own Frog-Shadow enhanced blow with her right.  She struck Tetsutetsu hard in the solar plexus, knocking the wind out of her and buying a few seconds of space and time.  

Asuka pressed her attack, sending Frog-Shadow out again to attack.  Her familiar shot out, her “tether” wrapping around Tetsutetsu several times, finally ending up behind her, pinning her arms to her side.  

“Ha!  We’ve got you now!” Frog-Shadow taunted.

Tetsutetsu simply grinned. “Maybe.”   Her arms suddenly shifted back to flesh, shrinking just enough that Frog-Shadow was not so tightly wrapped around her.  “Maybe not!”

Both of her arms shot up, slamming into Frog-Shadow’s face.  The light-being let out a cry of pain and retreated, snapping back to Asuka. She winced too, gritting her teeth. Frog-Shadow’s pain wasn’t exactly her pain… but the two of them were still deeply linked.

“She tricked me!  She tricked me!  No fair!”

“Quit complaining and fight!” Asuka shouted.

Frog-Shadow shot out again and again, each time blocked by Tetutetsu’s guard.  Neither of them was gaining much around and the reverse held true when Tetsutetsu found space to press her attack.  Asuka would recall Frog-Shadow like armor, blocking until she could strike and drive her back.  Their Quirks were very, very different, but provided both of them with enough attack and defense that neither could find space past the other.

This continued for several minutes and even though most of the blows had not impacted upon her directly, Asuka was beginning to tire.  But so, it seemed, was Tetsutetsu.  She’d taken several steps back in an attempt to buy herself a few moments.  

“We gonna go for this, Boss?” Frog-Shadow asked.

Despite something telling her there was more to this than met the eye, Asuka knew they couldn’t endure many more assaults.  If this was to be ended, it had to be now.  “Do it,” she breathed.

“FROGGY….PUNCH!” Frog-Shadow shot out again, hands raised and ready to rain down blows on Tetsutetsu.

Tetsutetsu brought her metal hands up…  just right to catch the sun.  Light reflected off them like a mirror, right into Frog-Shadow’s eyes.   “What the heck?!”  Frog-Shadow cried out, trying to shield her eyes.

Asuka tried to recall her, but before she could, Tetsutetsu’s arm snapped out, grabbing the tether that connected her to Frog-Shadow.  She gave a powerful yank and Asuka found herself lifted off her feet, flying towards Tetsutetsu.  The last thing she remembered seeing before all she could see were stars was a metal fist heading towards her face.

“Tokoyami is unable to continue!” she head Hawkeye shout.  “Tetsutetsu wins!”

“Now that’s what I call a knock-out fight!   That finishes up the first seed of the Tournament, folks!   We’ll be back for the second seed in just a moment, with more hot U.A. action!”

“Is that enough time for a coffee, Mic?”

“Sure it…  Ooooh no, you’re not escaping that easy, Eraser!”

[sweetboybucky]

Time

Pairing: Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 5000 (Holy hell)

Warnings: Non-graphic smut (very, very tame)

Summary: Times have certainly changed. Bucky knows that better than most. 

A/N: Hi, everyone! So, my first Stucky fic is here and it is the longest thing I’ve ever written. It took me a month to finish it, but I just had to write about these boys being in love (because I know they are, I just know it). For those of you who like my reader inserts, don’t worry! I won’t stop writing those. But, you will see more of the just Stucky pairing on my blog in the future. Also, I have an AO3 account now! I have already posted this story there, (here’s the link) and I will slowly transfer all of my other stories to that site, as well. Anyway, enjoy!

My Masterlist

***

Bucky had trouble remembering a time before he knew Steve.

After so many years of being friends with the guy, he assumed that was normal. But in the rare moments he did recall a day before he knew his best friend, he always felt like it was a different life. A different Bucky on some other planet. And he always felt a little cheated, too. Because there was something about Steve that lit up his world like nothing else had. He wondered why he wasn’t allowed to find that light sooner.

He looked at Steve from where he laid next to him in the apartment. Watched him turn over and face him, hair falling into his eyes. He kept his gaze on him as he fought the urge to brush the short strands from his face. Let his fingers linger on Steve’s skin and push himself closer.

It had been so long since they’d spent a night that way. When they had been kids. Before they’d grown into adults and faced the cold world around them. And Bucky had felt the same way then. He’d always felt the same way about Steve.

“Something wrong?” Steve asked. Bucky shook his head. Pulled away enough to keep himself from seeing the tiny bit of green in the blue irises in front of him.

“No,” Bucky answered, turning so he laid on his back. “I’m fine.”

Steve didn’t question him, much to Bucky’s relief. He only settled back down into the lumpy couch cushions and pulled his blanket tighter around himself. And Bucky tried to keep Steve from noticing he was watching all of it out of the corner of his eye.

Bucky knew something was off the moment he met Steve. He knew a boy wasn’t supposed to cloud his thoughts so much. Take up so much room in his heart. 

So why couldn’t he stop imagining having Steve’s soft skin under his fingers?

“Steve?” The name left his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Yeah, Buck?”

His heart thumped in his chest at the sound of his name in Steve’s mouth. He wanted so badly to hear it again. To steal it from his friend’s lips and make sure it was the only word he could remember before he was done with him.

But he couldn’t do that. Not ever.

So he rolled over instead. Turned his back to Steve and squeezed his eyes closed. Tried to push away the image of Steve’s beautiful face stuck in his mind.

“Nevermind,” he said, brushing Steve off.

He didn’t know what he would have said, anyway.

***

Bucky wakes to lips on him.

On his arm and shoulder. That spot just in the middle of his back. His neck and hair and the skin just below his ear. A nose nuzzles there, breathes a sigh against him, the sound pulling him from his dreamless sleep.

He groans when bright moonlight meets his vision as he cracks an eye open. A groan leaves his lips and he pushes his face further into the pillow. Grabs the arm over his waist and pulls it tighter around his body. The chest against his back shakes with laughter.

Bucky can feel the cool air of dawn on his skin. He knows that it has to be the middle of the night, based on the still dark sky hanging above their heads. And he has no idea why Steve is awake so late.

But he opens his eyes anyway. Supposes there are worse lives to wake up to.

Metal and flesh reach over his head as he stretches his stiff muscles. Toes flex and his back pops and a chuckle brushes against his ear. Eyelashes flutter along the skin of his temple.

“Hey,” Bucky rasps, turning onto his back to look at Steve. He’s met with a warm smile. Wide and beautiful blue eyes. It makes the worry that had settled in his chest fade. But he still asks, “You okay?”

Steve hums. Pushes his nose into Bucky’s cheek and runs a hand through dark hair. “Yeah,” he whispers. “You’re just really pretty.”

Bucky chuckles. His chest feels light as he leans in and presses a sleepy kiss to Steve’s jaw.

“I’ll still be pretty in the morning,” he murmurs, turning back over and settling into the mattress. Sighing when Steve presses himself to his back again, kisses his shoulder. “Get some sleep. Quit waking me up.”

Steve laughs. Presses another kiss to Bucky’s neck and lets his lips flutter against his skin. “You’ve got it, Sergeant.”

***

He could feel eyes on him.

Blue eyes. Gorgeous, cerulean irises he would have been happy to drown in. He squirmed under their gaze. Secretly hoped they wouldn’t leave his face. But also knew they should. Knew he wasn’t supposed to like the idea of them searching his form so much.

“What are you doing?” he asked, not looking up from his book. When he didn’t get an answer, he spared a glance at the man across from him. Saw his head turned down and a blush dusting his cheeks. Fingers brushing blond hair out of his face.

“Nothing,” Steve said. He turned back to his sketchbook. Moved the pencil across the paper again. Bucky looked at him for a moment. Reveled in the warmth spreading through his chest.

As soon as he went back to reading, he could feel the eyes on him again.

He didn’t say anything, though.

***

“Bucky.”

“Steve.”

“Are you gonna keep staring or do some training of your own?”

Bucky chuckles. Runs a hand through his hair and keeps his eyes on Steve. Watches the way the muscles in his arms move as he does push-ups on the ground.

“I’ve got a pretty nice view here,” Bucky tells him, setting his weights down and planting himself next to Steve. “So I think I’m good.”

Steve chuckles. Turns his head and smiles at Bucky.

“Fine,” Steve sighs. He sticks a hand out. Shoves Bucky halfheartedly and holds his body up with the other. “Do what you want.”

Bucky leans forward and kisses the side of Steve’s head. Wonders what he did to deserve his soldier.

***

He’d seen it plenty of times before.

Bruising along his cheekbone. Bloodied knuckles and a split lip. A broken nose - maybe a few ribs.

He couldn’t count how many times he’d had to drag a battered Steve out of some back alley. How many times he’d caught his friend picking a fight with someone twice his size. Someone who could probably kill him, if they wanted to.

But he’d always gotten there earlier.

He let Steve slump against him until they got to the apartment. Until he could sit him on a dining room chair and dig around for any medical supplies they had. Which would have been a lot easier if his hands weren’t shaking and his mind wasn’t buzzing and his mouth wasn’t running.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he spat, turning back to glance at Steve. His chest felt tight when he saw his friend holding his jaw, ocean eyes closed. Cut off from his view. What he wouldn’t have given to see those eyes - they always helped him calm down.

“I’m fine, Buck,” Steve argued, voice quiet and a hiss of pain coming through his clenched teeth. Bucky was there in an instant, helping Steve sit up straight so he could clean the cuts on his face.

Bucky sighed once Steve’s eyes opened. Once they searched his face.

He pressed a rag to the particularly large cut on Steve’s forehead, whispered, “You’re not fine.” He huffed out an annoyed breath. “You’re bleeding all over the floor and you can barely breathe. I bet your ribs are bruised. You know I can’t fix that -”

And then a hand was on his cheek.

Small and shaking. Cold. The fingers splayed out across his face and the heel settled right over his jaw. His eyes snapped up from where his hand rested on Steve’s arm to his face. To the blue eyes locked on his face.

He couldn’t breathe. Bucky couldn’t breathe.

“I’m fine,” Steve repeated, his fingers moving against the skin under Bucky’s eye. “Really,” he stressed. “I’m okay. I always am.”

Bucky drew in a shaky inhale, somehow, his heart hammering in his chest for a few reasons.

“I should’ve gotten there earlier -”

“Stop,” Steve cut him off. “You were there. A little late, sure.” Bucky chuckled, let his eyes slip shut and his head fall a little. “But you were there. You always are.”

He was suddenly acutely aware of how close he was to Steve. How much he didn’t want to pull away.

But he did. He stepped back and turned. Tried to hide the blush on his cheeks and calm his racing mind. Because Steve couldn’t have meant that touch in the way Bucky wanted him to. He knew that.

“Punk,” Bucky said, turning back to Steve. Catching that little look of - of something Bucky couldn’t quite decipher on his face.

“Jerk,” Steve replied, a small smile turning up his lips.

Bucky turned away again. Bit his lip and touched a few fingers to his cheek.

He could still feel Steve’s hand on him.

***

“You just like getting beaten up, huh?”

Steve laughs. Looks at Bucky from where he rests against the bathroom counter and kisses the fingers cleaning his split lip.

“Always have,” Steve says. Bucky rolls his eyes. “Least I can take it now. Don’t need you to save me all the time.”

Bucky leans in, kisses his way up Steve’s neck to his cheek. Takes his gorgeous face in his hands and brushes their noses together.

“Well,” Bucky whispers, “if you ever do need saving, I’ll be there.”

Steve smiles at him. Wraps his arms around Bucky and pulls him into his chest. Kisses the top of his head.

“I know. You always are.”

***

Things were changing.

A brush of fingers here. A hand on a shoulder there. Staying up much too late and sitting much too close.

Bucky was thrilled that things were taking a turn. That maybe he hadn’t been the only one who’d felt the way he did for all those years. That maybe Steve had been glancing at him from the corner of his eye and imaging the way Bucky would feel, too.

But he couldn’t be sure. He could never be sure that the meaning behind Steve’s touches was what he hoped for.

He let himself hope, anyway.

Bucky knew what it would mean for them if Steve felt the same way. He knew that nothing could ever be the same - that was terrifying.

He knew what would happen if someone caught them. If someone found out that their hugs weren’t so platonic anymore. If someone heard the shift in their tones around each other, the soft words they said when no one else was around. He understood that they would be done for.

But Steve’s hand felt too good in his own to stop.

***

Steve is much softer than expected.

Tight, coiled muscled under pale skin wouldn’t be described as soft, in most cases. And Bucky had thought the same thing when he’d first seen the new Steve. The Steve that’s solid instead of bony.

Bucky had been surprised the first time he held Steve after the serum. And it had been even more foreign once they’d both woken up in a different time. When they were both lined with strength and could hold each other with no fear.

He rests against Steve now, the yellow light of a lamp painting their skin. A kiss is placed on Steve’s bare chest. Then his collarbone. Then his neck. Bucky tilts his head against his shoulder so he can look up at his soldier’s beautiful smile.

“What are you doing?” he asks him. And Bucky just smiles.

“Nothing. Just loving you.”

Steve kisses him, runs his fingers through dark hair.

Bucky wishes the moment could last forever.

***

Steve being sick wasn’t new.

Bucky sitting next to him - where he laid on the couch - as he shivered under the pile of blankets was nothing he hadn’t done before. He’d known to keep a garbage can near Steve, in case his stomach decided to bother him. To press a cool, damp rag to his forehead when his temperature wouldn’t drop.

He’d never liked seeing his friend like that, but something about it felt different than all of the other times. And watching as Steve coughed, the sound ugly and strained, made his heart hurt for the guy.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked him, voice quiet and careful. He was sure Steve had a headache along with all of the other symptoms and he didn’t want to make it worse.

Steve shook his head just a little. Enough for Bucky to recognize the gesture. But he didn’t say anything, and Bucky could only assume it was because his throat hurt, too.

He wanted Steve to be better. He wished that he wasn’t so frail. That his body didn’t fail him so much. He wished Steve could focus on things that he enjoyed instead of being so preoccupied with the illnesses that frequently plagued him.

“Hey, Bucky?”

He looked upon hearing his name. Noticed then that his gaze had been fixed on his wringing hands. He leaned a little closer to Steve. Watched as the blond took a deep breath and turned his head to look at him.

“Can I -” Steve cut himself off. Shut his eyes tight and sucked in a deep breath.

“Can you what?” Bucky pressed. His voice was desperate and thin. He wanted to help Steve in any way he could.

“Will you let me -” another pause, another deep breath as wide azure eyes blinked open and looked at Bucky. “Can I rest my head in your lap?”

Bucky’s eyes went wide.

He tried to remind himself how to draw air into his lungs. Willed his heart to slow its beating in fear that it would crack one of his ribs with its rhythm. Because he had his answer then. The meaning behind all of their little gestures.

Steve felt the same way. He had to.

Bucky nodded at him, face flushing and hands shaking as he stood, so eager to accept the offer he didn’t have time to overthink it. He helped Steve to sit up. Moved the pillow his head had been on and sat there instead. And Steve leaned back. Turned and laid his cheek on Bucky’s thigh.

He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He only knew that he had been dreaming to touch Steve, to be close to him, for much too long. He only knew that he wanted to settle his hand in Steve’s hair. Curl his fingers around the strands.

So he did.

He had expected his touch to be rejected. For Steve to ask him what he was doing. Tell him to get his hands off of him and leave altogether.

But Steve didn’t do any of that. He just hummed at the feeling of Bucky’s hand in his hair. Pushed his head into Bucky’s palm and closed his eyes. Nuzzled his cheek against the thigh under him.

It only took a few minutes for Steve to fall asleep that way. And Bucky just stared at him. Watched as the evening light filtered through the window and danced over his pale skin. Settled another hand at his shoulder and rubbed circles there with his thumb.

He knew that it wasn’t normal. He knew that on the off-chance someone caught them that it would only put a larger target on Steve’s back. But he didn’t move him. And he wasn’t planning on getting up anytime soon.

He couldn’t really bring himself to care about anything that didn’t have Steve’s eyes.

***

He’s awake.

Bucky listens from his place on the living room couch as the bed creaks a little. He can picture Steve’s hand sweeping across the mattress as he looks for him. The small sigh he hears makes his breath hitch and guilt crawl into his heart.

He closes his eyes and curls in on himself. Tries to become as small as he can on the soft cushions of the couch. Hides his face in the pillow under his head and readies the apology he’ll give Steve when he walks in and finds him.

Because he’s sorry. So sorry that he keeps doing this.

Feet pad into the room. Careful and quiet. Bucky can hear Steve’s relieved exhale and he shivers a little at the sound. Keeps himself still when all he wants to do is run his hands over Steve’s bare chest and press his lips to his face.

He doesn’t deserve that right now. Not when he left bed for a reason he can’t quite determine and made Steve worry about him enough to get up. So he keeps his eyes closed, his mouth shut.

A body settles on the floor beside the couch. Warm fingers trace over his brow and down the curve of his nose before a palm rests against his cheek.

He wants to lean into the touch. To kiss Steve’s palm and pull him onto the couch and bury his face in the crook of Steve’s neck. But he holds himself back. Reminds himself that he’s the reason Steve loses the sleep he should be getting.

“Buck,” Steve says, voice whisper soft, the words breathed against Bucky’s forehead. “Talk to me.”

The quiet request surprises him. Makes him wonder how he got so lucky. And he wants to indulge Steve, tell him about everything that’s plaguing him. But he doesn't know how. So instead, he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Warm fingers tap his shoulder, motion for him to sit up. He does, feeling like he doesn’t deserve to argue with anything Steve tells him to do right now. But he’s not expecting Steve to take a seat where Bucky’s head had been on the couch. To guide Bucky down until his head rests on Steve’s lap.

Fingers thread through long, dark hair. A hum leaves the soldier’s lips as Steve combs the knots out of the strands. Bucky turns onto his other side to face him. Nuzzles his nose against Steve’s abdomen and smiles when he feels lips touch his temple.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you, too, Buck,” Steve answers.

He feels like he can finally get some sleep.

***

The sketchbook was nearly falling apart.

Bucky had found it one day when he was out. Had thought of Steve upon glancing at the clean pages and pencil that came with it. Spent a good chunk of money getting it. And when Steve had argued, said it was too much, he’d pushed it back into his hands.

He had watched Steve draw in it more times than he could count. Liked to see when he got really concentrated on the picture in front of him - his tongue would always poke out of his mouth just a little. It took everything in Bucky to keep from finally kissing him when he did that.

Steve sat on the couch, knees tucked up underneath him and the sketchbook resting on them. Bucky lounged near the window. Felt the warm, midday air hit his skin and looked on as the pencil moved along the page. Listened to the subtle scratching of it.

Why he was sitting so far away from Steve was a mystery to him. He’d watched as his friend had walked into the room. Planted himself a good five feet away from where Bucky was.

He had to admit to being a little hurt. Bucky didn’t know why Steve hadn’t joined him on the floor like he’d been doing for weeks. He only knew that he missed the feeling of their knees and shoulders pressing together.

But he didn’t say anything about it. Only stared at Steve as he drew something Bucky couldn’t see. Formed the words, “What are you drawing?”

It took Steve a moment to register the question. He tore his eyes from the book on his lap and cut them to Bucky. A pretty blush covered his cheeks - one that took Bucky’s breath away because it was unfair that anyone was allowed to be so beautiful.

And in a quiet voice, he answered, “You.”

That was it.

Bucky was standing and crossing the room in seconds. Moving the sketchbook to the coffee table and sitting down next to Steve. Pulling him into his arms and running his hands through soft blond hair and finally - finally - pressing his lips to Steve’s.

He had somewhat prepared himself for rejection, as he always did with Steve. For hands to press to his chest and push him away. For beautiful, beautiful lips to leave his and spit words that would cut his heart in half.

But he got none of that. Instead, there was only Steve, wrapping his arms around Bucky and pushing himself impossibly closer. It made him wonder why he had ever doubted the amazing man in front of him.

It was everything he had imagined. And it also wasn’t, because he hadn’t thought that kissing Steve would feel so right. Natural. Like he was born to taste Steve’s mouth and like Steve was born to taste his.

That fact had to be true, Bucky thought, as he pulled Steve into his lap. He was certain nothing would ever feel as right as that.

***

Steve’s breath is gasoline and his touch is an open flame.

They both cover Bucky’s body. Lay waste to his skin. Set alight the small embers within him, turn it into a roaring fire that he hopes Steve can feel as he hovers over him.

Bucky lies back, allows Steve’s lips to tear him apart and sew him back together as they leave a trail of open mouthed kisses down his body. Settle on the spot Bucky wants them to be on most. And all he can do is whimper. Buck his hips up and meet Steve halfway. Dig his fingers into blond hair and hold him there.

Each time they’re together, Bucky can still feel that heat. He can still melt just as easily under Steve’s touch as the first time. Every swipe of Steve’s tongue against his skin, every snap of his hips, every breath they share. It all makes Bucky feel that fire in his veins.

Bucky doesn’t mind. He’ll take heat over the cold any day.

***

“You use those moves on the ladies?”

Steve’s voice was quiet. Muffled against Bucky’s chest. The question made laughter leave his lips. He could feel Steve’s smile against his skin.

“No,” Bucky answered, pulling back enough to look into pretty blue eyes. “There were never any ladies. Not really. There was only you.”

Long eyelashes met the skin under Steve’s eyes as he looked down, a bashful grin painting his lips. It only made Bucky smile more. Curl his arm around Steve’s back and pull him closer. Bury his nose in pretty blond hair and place a kiss on his head.

For a long moment, they were quiet. They let their bodies fully recover. Bucky watched Steve carefully, worried he’d hurt him. And when Steve caught him staring, he just shook his head a little. Leaned up and kissed Bucky’s chin.

Soon enough, the moment was over. It didn’t take long for the fear to set in.

“What are we gonna do?” Steve asked, leaning back and looking up. Bucky had never felt so exposed - Steve’s eyes on him made him feel naked even when he had clothes on, and now he didn’t.

Bucky brushed some hair out of Steve’s eyes. Smirked. Tried to channel his vulnerability into something else. Closed his eyes and whispered against Steve’s skin, “I have some ideas. We don’t need clothes for any of them.”  

Steve poked his chest. Bucky opened his eyes. Glanced down and found Steve looking at him, his eyebrows raised. A look on his face that said please be serious. And Bucky gave him a look back that said please let us have one happy moment.

But he knew they couldn’t have a moment. Not ever again.

“We’ll do whatever we want,” Bucky sighed. “Whatever you want.”

A painfully long minute passed them. Steve said nothing in that time, only looked at Bucky and traced his finger up his arm. Bucky’s heart felt tight in his chest. He didn’t want to think about leaving the moment they had created. He didn’t want to think about Steve changing his mind - even after they’d been together. Really together.

“Can we just stay here?” Steve asked. “Worry about the details tomorrow?”

Bucky smiled, soft and gentle. He kissed Steve’s forehead, then his brow and the bridge of his nose. Affection bloomed within him at the happy sound that left Steve’s lips.

“Of course,” he said, tucking Steve’s head under his chin, settling one hand in his hair and the other on his back. “Let’s just sleep.”

Neither of them slept at all that night.

There was too much to be afraid of.

***

Bucky is sure there isn’t anything better than this.

Steve stands at the stove, his favorite pajama pants resting low on his hips and his torso bare. Bucky can hear something sizzling - bacon, he thinks - but he’s too caught up with looking at his beautiful, beautiful soldier.

The muscles in his body are prominent. Large and strong. And all Bucky wants to do is feel them. Run his hands over them and watch the way Steve shivers under his touch.

So he does.

He sneaks up behind him. Lets his arms fall around Steve’s waist and laughs when the man jumps. Nuzzles his face in the back of Steve’s neck and lets his fingers trail over the smooth skin of his abdomen.

“Morning, Buck,” Steve whispers, taking one of Bucky’s hands - the metal one - in his own and bringing it to his lips. He kisses the knuckles. Warmth blooms in Bucky’s chest.

“Morning, Steve,” Bucky says.

“You hungry?”

“Very. But not for food.”

“How sinful of you, Barnes,” Steve chides, reaching a hand behind him to poke Bucky’s side. He squirms away from Steve’s fingers. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to take me on a proper date before making such statements?”

“I was gonna make you breakfast,” Bucky tells him, moving to sit at the table so he can look at Steve. “Don’t know why I ever thought I would wake up before you.”

Steve turns his head to look at him. Smiles, small and soft. “It’s alright. You can owe me.”

***

He was angry.

Even as Steve slept on his chest. Let out little sighs every now and then against his skin. He was angry. So, so angry.

He tried to keep his eyes on Steve’s face. Tried to keep his brows from furrowing and his fist from balling up where it rested on the sheets. He put his hand on Steve’s back instead. Tried to ground himself by touching more of his skin.

It didn’t work. Not really.

Bucky hated this - well, sort of.

He hated the hiding. The sneaking around. Stealing kisses in alleys and praying no one would notice their hands wandering a little too much under the table at a restaurant. Speaking in quiet voices and his hand itching to hold Steve’s as they walked down the street.

It was unfair that he couldn’t give Steve everything he deserved. He couldn’t take him to Coney Island, win him a giant teddy bear and carry it home for him. He couldn’t give Steve the promise of a ring. Of a house and a family. Hell, he couldn’t even look at Steve for too long in public.

He wasn’t even sure if Steve wanted any of that - they’d never really talked about the future. But he deserved the world. Bucky was sure of that.

Steve had told him before, let him know that he wasn’t expecting anything. That he was okay with what they were able to have - a lovely relationship that only existed behind closed doors.

Well, that wasn’t true. Bucky always loved Steve.

Every minute of every day.

***

Bucky has trouble remembering a time without Steve.

His mind knows many versions of the soldier by now. His memories can span back to the small, feisty guy he fell in love with. The one who got beat up in back alleys. He can conjure up the Steve he knew right after the serum, too. The one who saved him from that POW camp. The one that was ready to give his life to save so many others.

But the one in front of him - that’s the Steve he knows better than the rest.

The softer one. The Steve that’s been shaped by years of holding so many lives in the palm of his hand. The Steve that had to wake up one day and start over and - God, thinking about that makes Bucky’s heart hurt so bad.

He watches him now. Smiles when thick eyebrows draw down, when blue eyes narrow at the book in his hands. Bucky just lets his hand fall onto Steve’s leg as the appendage rests over his lap, his palm feeling the soft fabric of his flannel pajama pants.

Bucky would be lying if he said he doesn’t wish he could go back in time. Change their lives. Have the Steve he’d known back then. The one that didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders. The one he’d been able to protect.

But he wouldn’t have been able to have Steve back then. Not the way he wants him.

“Something wrong, Buck?”

He snaps out of his thoughts, eyes settling on his Captain’s handsome face. And he smiles a little, grabbing one of his hands and kissing the palm. Reveling in the fact that he can do things like that so freely, now.

“No,” Bucky answers, lips finding Steve’s neck. “Absolutely nothing is wrong.”

For once, he means it.

Sure, he and Steve woke up in a different century. They’ve seen things they would rather forget. Collected more scars than they can count and work so hard to heal the wounds that are still open.

But as time moves forward, so do they.

Bucky knows that now.

***

“Someday it won’t matter, right? We’ll be able to go out and just - just be. We won’t have to be scared. Maybe someday no one will care.”

“Yeah, Steve. Maybe someday.”

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[spacedimentio]

Fractures ch.5 - Burning Sun

- Pink Diamond fights for her freedom.

Pink Diamond remained on her back for what seemed like eons. Her ears were ringing, and her mind was dazed. The left side of her face burned and ached.

Finally, she stood. She stared blankly around the room, struggling to process what had just happened. Around her were hundreds of shards, sparkling in what little light remained. It was strangely beautiful.

She touched her face. Where it hurt, her skin was no longer smooth and soft.

White-

White had wanted to-

She’d been going to erase her. Erase all her memories and take away everything that made her who she was. Pink knew, because she’d seen it done before, to her own pearl, who had only done what had been asked of her and suffered because of it.

And she had-

She had…

She had fought, fought to save what little she had left. And somehow, she had gotten free and-

She… She hadn’t meant to, she hadn’t meant to, she had just lashed out blindly and…

It wasn’t her fault that White had been so close.

Unfeeling, she knelt and picked up a shard. It was small and jagged, rough against her fingers. Falling so far had turned the pieces into gravel.

She dropped it and continued to stand there, waiting. The room seemed impossibly vast and empty without White Diamond to fill it.

She soon heard the thunder of distant footsteps. They grew closer, split into two sets, shook the world. A moment longer, and the door was violently forced open.

Blue and Yellow Diamond entered, prepared to fight whatever horrible foe had slipped into White’s sanctuary. Instead, they found only their little sister, standing lost amidst a sea of shards.

Silence reigned as they processed what they saw.

“You little fool…” Yellow Diamond whispered. “What have you done.”

Pink turned towards them, watched them gasp, watched Blue Diamond’s hands fly to her mouth, watched Yellow Diamond’s body tense in horror. She knew what they saw. She had seen herself reflected in White’s gem, moments before it had shattered completely.

A series of cracks spread out from her left eye, trailing down her cheek. Where they touched, her skin was a dull, sickly gray, the pink leeched right out of it. Faint lines marked the eye itself, and her once bright magenta iris had faded to a pale, ghostly coral. She knew at once that the damage was permanent, and hardly cared.

Yellow and Blue didn’t move. They knew what the cracks meant, too.

Pink waited, feeling nothing and everything at once. She met their gazes evenly. She must look like an utter disaster, like she had lost her mind. Maybe she had.

Yellow snapped out of it first, taking a step into the room. She winced when a loud crunch resulted, growing paler. None of them had quite processed that White Diamond was gone yet.

“G-Go to your room,” Yellow said, her voice quiet and shaken. “We’ll decide what to do with you later.” She looked over her shoulder at Blue, spurring her into movement. Blue’s hands came away from her face, and she carefully began to gather the shards.

Something in Pink Diamond shifted. Something stirred. Something that had been left rotting inside of her for much too long.

She didn’t know what was going to happen. What she did know was that she never wanted to return to that room again.

“No.”

“Go. Now,” Yellow commanded, voice rising. Blue stopped what she was doing, clutching White’s shards to her bosom in fear.

Pink frowned, staring Yellow in the eye. “No,” she said again, firm and cold. “I’m not going back.”

She began to walk towards the door, intending to brush by Yellow and leave. She barely felt the shards cutting into her bare feet.

Yellow stopped her, grabbing her by the arm. “Pink, you will go to your room and you will go now. I’ll drag you there myself if I have to.”

Pink pulled away, leaping back and putting several yards between herself and Yellow. She settled automatically into a fighting stance. Pink sparks danced in the air around her form. “I’m not letting you lock me up again, Yellow. Move aside and let me leave.”

Yellow felt a chill. What she had seen a glimpse of so long ago was coming out in full force. At last, she recognized it as a great and terrible hatred.

Pink had to be shut down, now.

Yellow’s aura flared up, and she fired a bolt of lightning directly at Pink. A shield that had not been summoned in millennia redirected it back towards her. Yellow dodged it, stepping to the side, her face lined with fury.

Everything was clicking into place for Pink Diamond. White was gone. White, who was an immovable wall, an impossible hurdle, who insisted that she be pushed and pulled and twisted until she was something she didn’t want to be, was shattered. She was finally, blessedly free of her, and she would not be stopped again.

Yellow moved, firing again, and Pink raised her shield to deflect it once more. Her old, battle-hardened instincts fired into overdrive, assessing the situation. In her periphery, she saw Blue back away, confused and afraid. Pink braced herself as Yellow came towards her. Yellow’s fist hit her shield with the force of a crashing meteor; her knees threatened to buckle.

Before another blow could fall, Pink dashed in between Yellow’s legs and hit her in the back of her knee. Yellow stumbled, but turned and kicked the smaller diamond. Pink flew back a few hundred feet, her shield dissipating as she tumbled on the ground.

“That is enough, Pink!” Yellow boomed, her aura crackling around her.

Pink got up, unminding of the various scrapes and bruises she’d just received. Her anger, her hatred and guilt and grief and fear and all of the crushing things she’d been left alone to feel for thousands of years exploded out of her, forming a blazing pink aura.  “I’m not going back,” she growled.

Yellow launched another bolt; Pink stood still, defiant. Yellow’s lightning evaporated uselessly the moment it hit Pink’s aura.

Without warning, Pink ran towards Yellow, summoning another shield. She threw it at Yellow’s face, using the distraction to get in close again.

Blue Diamond watched in horror and worry, not knowing what to do. She watched as Pink seemed to dart effortlessly around Yellow, using her smaller size to her advantage. She delivered bruising blow after blow to Yellow. Even when Yellow caught her, she would break free. Even when Yellow knocked her away, she got back up as if she hadn’t felt the hit. Her burning aura easily overpowered Yellow’s own.

Blue Diamond gasped when Yellow suddenly froze.

Pink’s hand was digging painfully into the yellow gem’s collar, her feet braced against Yellow’s hips. Pink’s gaze drilled into Yellow’s, her expression utterly merciless, her eyes cold and cruel.

Her fist had stopped inches from Yellow’s gem.

For once in her life, Pink Diamond looked every bit like the diamond that she was meant to be.

Nobody moved for several seconds, until Pink let go and dropped to the floor. She walked towards the door and left without another word, leaving her two shell-shocked sisters to pick up the pieces.

Her aura faded gradually as she calmly went through the halls. The gems she passed hid from her, or wisely got out of her way.  She didn’t know where she was going; she just wanted it to be away from here.

She came to a halt when she reached the opening in the face of White Diamond’s ship. Before her was all of Homeworld. It was organized, lifeless, unfeeling.

Across from her, on the other side of the docking bay, stood her own ship. A ridiculous pair of hot pink legs, perfect for who she used to be. She could leave, and never come back. She wanted to.

But she had always been able to escape, if she had truly wanted to. No. White was gone, and she could finally follow her heart again.

So she leapt out into the dead, unmoving air. She slowed her descent, landing on the roof of a building. She leapt again, moving from structure to structure with careless, directionless abandon. Those who saw her that day would later say that she almost seemed to be dancing.

With one last bound, Pink Diamond sailed out into open nothingness, and descended down and down into the unknown abyss of Homeworld’s depths. 

A/N: Who Would Win: 1 Anger Mom, or 5000 Years of Repressed Suffering?

Here's a picture I drew of what Pink looks like now. I don't have the artistic skill to make the damage look as bad as I can describe with words, but it gets across well enough I think.

In fact, that singular concept is responsible for this entire story; one morning, I woke up with the half-formed idea of "the cracks on White Pearl's face sure are creepy, what if I put them on Pink Diamond's face?" I stayed in bed for another hour thinking about how and why that would be done to her, how she would manage to escape from being completely brainwashed, and what she would do afterwards. So you can thank my half-asleep brain for coming up with weird shit, as it does.

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[floop0wder-blog]

How Common Is Off-label Drug Use?

It happens. Whether you believe in multiple personalities is up to you, but you need to understand that the brain has the capability to switch off, so to speak, while your body is still operating. Is it still occurring? That would have likely busted the market open with cheaper drugs and a new level of competition. Unfortunately there is no wall mount option so the dispenser will require a dedicated level surface near your sink. This means some residue will always remain behind. If the Batman murders are indeed a covert op, the motives behind it don't need much explanation. I hope you are able to use some of them. Campaign for Personal Prescription Importation (CPPI) is a national nonprofit patient advocacy organization that advocates for Americans’ access to safe, affordable prescription medications from Canada for personal use. In 2003, CanaRX was warned by the FDA to stop providing Americans with medications because they were obtaining medications from unapproved suppliers and shipping refrigerated medications using plain mail services. Some may fill prescriptions at other pharmacies, traveling great lengths to get their medications. There are creams along with medications that are specifically made that could assist with the event of infant diaper rash. Susan Sayler, a TI in San Diego, says many women among the TIs suffer from attacks to their sexual organs but are often embarrassed to talk about it with outsiders. Meats and seafood promote gout attacks. When did this craze begin and in what way is it affecting me personally today? We have become so busy these days that we want to finish every task in the shortest possible way. This approach helps ensure your pet receives the best possible care. 5000 ft. It was a perfect day for the hike and Helpful Buckeye cut 2 hours off his best time for this hike. 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Venomous and poisonous snakes that can strike at any time, biting insects that will infect you with killer diseases, and spiders that are only inches from your head whilst you sleep. Canada Meds can be obtained at a cheaper price with no compromise on quality. Subscribers have access to a list of physicians and medical professionals that participate in the Medicare program and the Physician Quality Reporting Initiative. Not only have the investigative documents been sealed, but also sealed is the complete list of court filings. You do not have to worry about stains, be they oil, grease, coffee or soup. Pregnant women are often the worse sufferers of hemorrhoids and are often in desperate need of hemorrhoid remedies. There are numerous online Canadian drug companies which make provision users the facility of buying generic drugs against low prices. A 2005 attempt at a rally drew a few dozen people and was ultimately rained out; the TIs were determined to make another go of it. 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For approximately four years, the Pentagon conducted secret research: zapping monkeys; exposing unwitting sailors to microwave radiation; and conducting a host of other unusual experiments (a sub-project of Project Pandora was titled Project Bizarre). Also from Beautybay I got the Macadamia Oil No Tangle Brush, which I fell in love with. And just like that I got it. Was the Batman shooting a mega-ritual carried out by the occult elite and its mass media appendage? Wow, what great savings. While its exact range is classified, Doug Beason, an expert in directed-energy weapons, puts it at about 700 meters, and the beam cannot penetrate a number of materials, such as aluminum. While your dog is suffering from cataracts, canada pharmacy online the lens becomes cloudy and opaque. Is it the glycerine that is making it sticky? Truly professional. Good job! Tom Skinner, a spokesman for the U.S. It should be noted that this investigator also reviewed the audio radio traffic from the Aurora Police Department, and requested a source from the department to authenticate the radio (audio) communications. 3 off manufacturer coupons in the January 24 Sunday paper. In a systematic review, Kripalani et al.

[mage-cat]

Unbubbled, Chapter 6

It’s done. The longest chapter yet. Here’s hoping for more writing momentum going forward. A ton of this is my “A Single Pale Rose” reaction. It slotted so neatly into where the plot was already going that it almost feels intentional.

Chapter is under the cut, clocking in at ~3200 words. The link to the AO3 version is through here.

Bismuth arrived at the Sky Arena the next day and found herself staring at the state of it. It was far from her favorite project she had ever worked on, but nothing drove home just how long she had been out of the world quite like seeing half of the place just gone. Some of the damage was deliberate, but much more was clearly just weathering, decay, and neglect. Still, about a third of the seating was intact along with enough of the fighting ring that Pearl and Steven had more than enough space for a vigorous-looking sparring session in which they were joined by a brown-skinned human who looked to be about Steven's age. Garnet was alone in the stands until Bismuth joined her.

“You found Pearl's note. You really do have her distracted. This is usually the highlight of her week, and she almost forgot.”

“Steven's friend Connie, right?” Bismuth noticed the familiar pink blade the girl was using. “I can't believe she's training with that. Pearl knows better. I made that thing for someone three times the girl's size. And is she relying completely on Steven for defense? That fits with Pearl's style, but it's not a good move for someone who can't regenerate.”

“Just watch.”

In a blare of pink light, the two children disappeared, replaced by one, much taller, person who was such a seamless blend of their appearances that there was only one explanation.

“Steven can fuse with humans. You must be so proud.”

Garnet's only answer was a wide smile.

“So where's the junior power couple?”

“Amethyst and Peridot are supposed to be starting the process of gathering up the bits of the broken warp pad we'll be moving, but it's equally likely that they're just enjoying the alone time somewhere in the general area. Steven could use a test of his healing skills and repairing it in place is unlikely to do us much good.”

“How did things go with Lapis Lazuli?”

“She didn't return to the barn before Steven fell asleep. I brought him home after that and haven't heard from Lapis.”

"Did Steven ask you about that Jasper?"

"Yes, and Peridot advocated for trying to heal her as well. My Future Vision is foggy on how it will go. Me being there for it certainly won't help matters, and it's always harder to predict things I won't have a hand in. I hate to say it, but I feel like something has been blocking me lately. Many things have happened that I haven't seen coming. I don't like it. Before her corruption, Jasper was nothing but antagonistic. Steven thinks he can win anybody over. He's almost completely right, but I don't like dealing with almost when it comes to his safety."

Stevonnie unfused and Steven and Connie went back to double-teaming Pearl.

"He looks like he can handle himself."

"You don't look at him and see him small the way the rest of us do, which might be a good thing. It's hard to treat the child we've raised like the adult he's becoming."

Down in the fighting ring, Pearl called an end to training for the day. Bismuth and Garnet came down from the stands to join them.

"You all looked great out there,” Bismuth called out as they drew closer.

Pearl put a hand on Connie's shoulder. “Connie is the best student I've ever had.”

“There's no higher praise in the galaxy. I hope you know that.”

Connie hugged the sheathed sword to her chest. “It's nice to hear a confirmation from someone else.”

“I'm impressed by how well you handle that big blade, but would you be offended if I made you a backup weapon more your size? It's a professional pride thing for me.”

Connie looked conflicted. The fact that she had been trusted with Rose Quartz's sword clearly meant a lot to her, but it would have been a lie to say there was no appeal in having a weapon that was wholly her own.

“You don't have to answer right now,” Pearl said, “and we'll have to clear it with your mother regardless.”

Connie's face cleared into a polite smile, “Thank you for the offer ma'am. I'll give it serious thought.”

That got a chuckle from Bismuth. She always found human honorifics strangely endearing.

As the group walked from the nearest functioning warp pad to the ruined one they would be moving, Bismuth tried to place exactly which desert they were in. It wasn't until they were near enough to the large mound of rubble raising up behind the smaller heap of warp pad pieces that Amethyst and Peridot were working at that she could make out the shape of the crystalline fragments and make a connection. “What happened to the Communications Hub?”

“Mostly Sugilite.” Pearl answered. “It was an intentional demolition. Human commutations technology has gotten to the point that the Hub was interfering with the signals. It's actually reached a pretty impressive state.” She removed a cell phone from her gemstone."This device can reach any other device of this nature, provided it has the right code, and access a world-wide information network. Of course, humans being humans, they mostly use it for rather trivial matters, but trivial matters can be quite key to human bonding."

"I just wish you would remember that text messaging exists," Amethyst said in a tone that implied that there was more than one story behind the statement.

"If you don't want to be interrupted, you could always turn yours off."

"But then I have to remember to turn it back on."

Pearl rolled her eyes as she returned her phone to her gemstone and they all joined in the task of transferring the bits of warp pad into a dumpster that Amethyst and Peridot swore that they had obtained legally.

The job was about three quarters of the way done before Steven broached a topic that had been working its way from the back of his mind since he had seen Bismuth and his mother's sword, currently safely stowed away at the beach house, in one place again at the arena. "Hey, Bismuth? Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead and shoot, Rose Bud."

"You said that the sword you made for Mom couldn't shatter a Gem. Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure. That's what she asked for. I wouldn't have given it to her if I hadn't met her specifications."

"It's just... A lot of Gems saw her shatter Pink Diamond with it."

Bismuth turned to Garnet, behind her, Pearl looked distressed as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. "Pink Diamond was shattered, and I'm only finding out now?"

"Catching you up on over 5000 years takes time,” Garnet said. “It was about a decade after we lost you."

"Fair. Fair. The Forge obviously hadn't been touched while I was gone. Was there another smithy? Somewhere someone could have made a replica?"

There was a buzzing sound, causing Steven to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone. "Pearl, where's your phone?"

Pearl removed her hand from her mouth, "You saw what I did with it a moment ago."

"I just got a text from you. It says 'I want to tell you, but I can't.' You followed it with an emoji of a monkey doing that 'speak no evil' thing."

“Well that's just silly. Let me get mine back out and...” But the glow from her gemstone didn't resolve into her phone. Pearl stared at the remote control in her hand in confusion. “Odd.” She handed it to Connie. Another glow resulted in a violin. “No.” The next was a notepad. “Still no!” The one after was a screwdriver.

Steven's phone buzzed again. “Your phone sent another one.” He held it up so Pearl could see that the message was an image of a single hibiscus flower. Her eyes went wide.

“Steven,” She said as she bent to make clear eye contact with him. “I need you to go inside my gem and find my phone.”

“What?! Is it stuck in there or something?”

“There are certain things I can't tell you, but I can tell you I need my phone. Please. I can bring you back out once you find what you're looking for.”

“Your phone?”

“Exactly. I'll keep your phone, text me with mine when you find it.”

Steven handed his phone over, and in a flash of white light, he was gone.

“Is it normal for people to go in there?” Connie asked.

“I don't recommend you try to follow him,” Peridot said. “I'm not sure if anything purely organic that went in could come out alive.” She paused as a thought occurred to her. “Pearl, would you be willing to help me with an experiment involving some potted plants?”

“Ask me again another time.”

Bismuth put a reassuring hand on her back. "Are you alright?"

"I may be soon. I just can't... Steven's a smart boy. It shouldn't take him much more than five minutes or so. Let's.... let's finish picking up these pieces."

They resumed work, Pearl doing her part with one hand while stealing glances to the phone in her other  every few seconds. It buzzed just as the last fragment went into the dumpster. She took a steadying breath as her gemstone began to glow.

The glow resolved into a kneeling Steven with Pearl's phone in his hand and a downcast expression. “I know,” he said.

“I wanted to tell you for so long.” If relief could melancholy, that was the tone of Pearl's voice in that moment.

“Mom was Pink Diamond.”

“What!?!” come the collective cry from everyone else.

In shock, Garnet split into a concerned Ruby focused on an absolutely livid Sapphire, “Rose lied to us!”

“And was an idiot,” Peridot said so bluntly as to derail everyone else's emotional reactions. She looked at the collection of shocked expressions turned her way. “Oh good, nobody looks like they want to shatter me for insulting her this time. I get that you all have, like, emotional attachments to her memory, but I never met her. From that objective perspective, I've got to say that any plan that involves faking your death stinks worse than sulfur.” She caught sight of Pearl aggressively trying and failing to pull her hand away from her mouth. “What are you doing?”

“It's the last order Pink Diamond ever gave her,” Steven said, “to never speak of it again. Pearl, can I… reverse that? Give you a new order?”

Pearl's shoulders shrugged that she didn't know while her eyes begged him to try.

“By my authority as,” Steven looked like the words were crawling up from his throat and tasted bad while they were at it, “authority as Pink Diamond, you're secrets are your own, to share or keep as you see fit. All orders to command your silence are void.”

“I am so glad I got you to read so many fantasy novels,” Connie said, nervous to be intruding into an important scene. “Curse-breaking can be tricky, but I think you covered everything.”

Steven still looked queasy. “I never want to do that again. Did it work?”

Pearl slowly removed her hand from her mouth, her eyes locked on Steven's. “I was made over seven thousand years ago to serve Pink Diamond. I was designed to balance what the other Diamonds saw as her impulsive nature, but I had impulses of my own, to question the nature of my role and our respective positions within the hierarchy of Homeworld.” Her gaze flicked to Peridot for a moment with a ghost of a smile. “Forehead Gems simply never take 'because I said so' for an answer. I was lucky that my Diamond found this an interesting trait rather than something worth shattering me over.

“When she was given Earth as a colony, when she actually began to look around, she was enchanted by it. Novelty always did that for her. At first Rose Quartz was simply a disguise to get closer, to walk around without ceremony. The more she saw, the more she loved what was already here. As Rose she began the Rebellion to convince the other Diamonds that Earth wasn't worth it, but they simply became more committed to making sure the colony went ahead as planned. Rose came up with a more drastic measure to free herself, her Gems, and the planet. We staged her shattering in front of her court. I shape-shifted in Rose Quartz, stabbed Pink Diamond with a blade no one on Homeworld knew could do no permanent damage, and left behind some fake shards that she made beforehand. She thought the other Diamonds would abandon Earth if she was gone. They didn't, and we no longer had our old ways of discovering their plans. But she was always Rose from that day forward. Until the day she gave birth to you. You are everything she wanted to be, kind and selfless and free. Those were the ideals that I loved her for, even if...”

Peridot cut in with no embarrassment about intruding into the scene. “I still say the plan stinks. I mean, even Jasper kept going on about about what a great tactician Rose Quartz was, but I guess it's easy to look like a chessmaster when you're playing against yourself!”

“It's not like it was her first plan. She tried many delaying tactics...”

“Delaying tactics my foot. Yellow Diamond told me to go through with a plan to destroy Earth. I told her no. It was not that hard. I'm pretty sure a Diamond with an army of loyal soldiers behind her would have firmer ground to stand on than I did with no one behind me but the four,” she glanced at Ruby and Sapphire, “five, whatever, of you hiding behind the remains of my robot!”

Sapphire stepped forward to confront Pearl. “Do you have any idea how much information like this must have thrown off our projections! Neither Garnet nor I can see the probability of futures we can't imagine. Maybe we could have seen the Corruption coming. Maybe we could have shielded everyone. Maybe, maybe...”

Ruby came from behind to grab her hand, pulling her attention towards her. “Sapphire, I've got a better question for maybes. Where would the two of us be if the Rebellion had never brought us to Earth? Maybe I would have been moved to another assignment. Maybe I would still be your bodyguard. Maybe I would be standing next to you everyday, still panicking at the thought of what might happen if I touched you. We didn't do what we did for her. We did it for each other.”

Sapphire calmed a bit at the warm touch and the warm words of truth cutting through her cold fury. “I still need a little time with no one in my mind but me, if that's alright.”

“I'll be waiting when you're ready.”

Bismuth pulled Pearl into a hug. “You deserved better.”

“Rose was everything I wanted.”

“You still deserved better. You should have been trusted with a secret if it really needed to be a secret.” Bismuth wasn't convinced on that point, but now wasn't the time for the argument. “Putting a gag on you wasn't right.”

Amethyst spoke up, “So, um, are we gonna finish what we came here for, or did that take the wind out of us?”

“I feel lighter than I have in five thousand years,” Pearl said.

“Let's fix this thing where it'll do some good,” said Bismuth.

As they trekked to the working warp pad, Peridot floating the filled dumpster along with them, and then to a spot that was about a five-minute walk from the Forge's entrance, just far enough to allow for a warning if someone less-than-friendly came through, there was a tension in the air. Steven's healing powers were among his most temperamental and had been thrown off before by emotional upheaval. Those upheavals paled in comparison to the secrets Pearl had been forced to keep until that day. Even as Connie kept an arm around Seven's shoulders and tried to put his mind elsewhere, his thoughts kept returning to the biggest lie his mother had ever told.

Once they reached the spot, there was some dithering over how exact the reassembly had to be before the healing would work properly. In the end, it was decided that the first trial would be to simply dump the rubble into a pile, arrange it into roughly the right shape, and see if it worked. They would spend the time it would take to fit it together like a 3-D puzzle only if the first try failed.

While the Gems did that, Steven walked a few yards away, Connie following. They sat crossed-legged on the ground and together ran through a meditation exercise Garnet had taught them. When they came back, the fragile look on Steven's face had been replaced by one of determination.

When Steven slapped his spit-covered hand onto the pile of fragments, pink light flared and everyone except Sapphire let out breaths they had hardly realized they had been holding. The seer just smiled. Peridot inspected the results before declaring that it looked right. A quick test run that she took to the Temple and back bore that out.

Night had fallen and the kids were exhausted. The Gems were also emotionally wrung out enough that they were all more than happy to retreat two-by-two to be alone with the one person they each felt that they needed to be with most that night.

Pearl spent the dark hours curled in Bismuth's arms, telling stories about her life before the Crystal Gems were even a concept.

“I don't think Rose realized how much her order covered. I don't think it ever crossed her mind that I ever would want to talk about any of it, but I wouldn't be who I am if it wasn't for those times, for better or worse. It meant hiding things that seemed silly to hide. With the Diamonds coming back, it went beyond silly into... I know she didn't see that coming. It's really the little things I missed talking about sometimes though.”

While the Diamonds had trained Pink, their Pearls had trained her. She had given them fits, if carefully and gracefully restrained fits, over how many times she responded to an instruction with “But why?” She wondered how they thought of her now.

“Amethyst thinks I'm rigid. I would love to see her and Yellow square off against each other. If I didn't hate the texture of food so much, I would get popcorn for the event.”

Bismuth let her babble and wondered if Pearl realized that every word made it more clear that she was more responsible for the Crystal Gems than Rose ever had been. If Pink Diamond had been given a different Pearl, one less inclined to question what she was told, Bismuth doubted Pink Diamond would have ever considered becoming Rose.

[diamondorloj]

do you know any neutral post that sums up the Israeli–Palestinian conflict because I don't know what to think. I don't want to dislike jews or Israel but it all sounds so bad? Send help

Hi! I super appreciate you asking because I know exactly how hard it is to even find one reliable source.

Of course it all sounds super bad, because Hamas is a well-oiled and functioning propaganda machine with a lot of money and children and parents willing to throw themselves in front of the camera to make Israel bad, and for some reason their pictures are always what get picked up by the media. Plus, there are super loud antisemitic voices everywhere chanting against Israel at every mention. And the BDS is lobbying pretty hard too, so it's very hard to not find a super negative picture.

It's a super tricky conflict. I'm not saying everything went well and Israel is a country with a pristine history. But here's some points to consider that are usually the biggest issues in any ''''controversy'''' around Israel- Jewish people have always lived and practiced Judaism for over 5000 years in Israel. They have been victims of pogroms and hatred and chased in the desert, but they have literally always been there and to say that Israel was a state installed by foreigners for foreigners coming to these lands is a blatant lie.

There are countries with way more questionable borders in existence, yet Israel is the only country to continuously has to defend its very existence.

The United Nations have two organisations for refugees. One is the UNHCR which deals with refugee questions for all over the world, except for one group. And the other is the UNRWA which is an organisation only for the Palestine/Gaza refugees. The differences between these organisations are more than in structure and beaurucracy, they have two different tasks: UNHCR aims to give refugees a home, UNRWA doesn't. When in 1951 the director of UNRWA proposed to give 250.000 refugees a home in different arabic countries, these governments were angry and strictly refused, leading to the director John Blanford to lose his job. Since then, no further attempts have been made.

Furthermore, the UNHCR only defines refugees as people who have actually fled from their homes. Meanwhile, the UNRWA broadens that definition to "people who lost their homes in 1948 and their descendants".

- Israel is the only country that won all their wars for their survival and in self-defense yet had to have the coniditions for peace dictated by the defeated enemies. Even more paradox, this was supported by countries which all defined their borders after winning wars over these territories -- like, look at an old map of Europe and you will see what I mean. Btw Europe, Germany and Poland drew their finite borders in 1990 but I guess Israel is the only ''''artificial'''' state

- One of Hamas' conditions was that no jewish people were allowed to live in Gaza, so for the first time in centuries if not more, there are no Jewish people living in Gaza. Weirdly, it doesn't seem enough because these people are still living somewhere else and not all dead, I guess.

- Hamas literally uses children and families as a shield, regularly raises palestine flags with swastikas and calls protests of throwing rocks, burning tires and attacking soldiers 'peaceful'. It's a terrorist organisation and literally has the destruction of Israel as a defining goal, yet we always expect Israel to work with them. Hamas wants to build a state based on ethnic purity and cleansing of the territory, but somehow everyone thinks it's okay.

- By the way, when the two state solution was on the table, it was refused because they didn't want Israel to even have a bit of Jerusalem, the capital city with which the jewish people has been connected for over 3000 years. Even weirder, this connection is widely known (famously written into the most read world book in the world, the Bible) and yet every country refuses to acknowledge it as the official capital city because they're afraid that terrorists will riot

- Israel is the only country which is continuously attacked by three organisations in the UN which only exist to represent the Palestine agenda and to defame Israel (they're three comitees and I can't remember their exact names even in German, but they're about realising Palestinian rights, researching the Israeli actions in regard to palestinian rights and there's something in the UN-department for politic agendas or somth)

- Every year. Every year, Israel is targeted by more UN-resolutions than all of the other 192 member countries together. No-one can tell me that this number is justifiable in the least, but it is a reality and it paints the picture of Israel in the media.

- Israel is also the only country in the UN that continuously has to defend its existence against other UN-members and that suffers threats from other members all the damn time. And not just any threats, Iran for example continuously threatens to wipe out Israel and supports Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in Gaza, both of which are terrorist organisations with the goal of destroying Israel. And destroying Israel means killing all their Jewish citizens.

And we continuously forget that Israel is the only liberal democracy in that area, they're currently conducting investigations into Netanyahu and his regime and it's a country with a rich and vivid discourse nature. They just refuse to let their existence be up to debate, and frankly, neither should any of us.

So, does this mean no-one is allowed to criticise Israel? Absolutely not. It is a functioning democracy and like any country, it is not a moral entity and there is a lot of room for debate. But when looking into the arguments, you should keep in mind that there's a lot of antisemitism hidden as 'Israel critic' when it's just the same old shit. There's a test called "the 3 Ds" (in German) that can function as a broad test to see if you're reading legitimate critics or antisemitic shit:

- Demonisation (are they demonising Israel, for example by comparing Israel to the Nazis or the palestine refugee camp with Auschwitz)

- Double standards (are they criticising Israel for a behaviour or an act that they ignore or belittle when it's different state, for example how is it that Israel suffers resolutions for hurting human rights but China, Iran, Kuba and Syria don't)

- Delegitimisation (when they're arguing against Israel to exist; it's also a double standard bc it's refusing to allow Jewish people to have a state in which they can live a safe life)

I realise this won't directly answer your question and I easily get side tracked, but I feel like knowing about these difficulties and critically reading your sources will help you more than just drawing a timeline of events. Because there's a lot of anti-Israel propaganda even on Wikipedia, on seemingly normal internet platforms and even our big Western media liberally use Hamas material while refusing to show the Nazi swastikas blowing on burning kites they shoot over to Israel ground. And it's hard to be neutral about this topic, because it is a democracy which is never flawless against a terrorist organisation which demonstrates great finesse in painting the picture the way they want it. I don't think we should all be neutral about it. I am firmly pro Israel because I need my Jewish friends who are currently worrying about anti-judaic sentiments on the uprise everywhere in Europe to have a safe haven. I am pro Israel because it is a country with huge efforts and contributions to our world and advancing medicines etc every day. It's a LGBTQ friendly country (contrary to Hamas policy in which gay sex means 10 years of prison). It is the only liberal democracy in the Middle East and deserves our support more than a terrorist organisation using their children as human shields. Yknow. Maybe that's not actually a topic to be neutral about.

[aj-the-satyr]

Malarkey at Cobb Mansion

The Mansion definitely looked old, that at least was a plus. The driveway didn’t seem like it had ever had much traffic. It looked like the sort of place that would need their brand of help but Lars still wasn’t happy, far from it.

Marcus gave him a grin from the passenger seat. “See! Told ya! Legit job and everything. Business cards and flyers are a great idea..... oh.... you’re still mad aren’t you?”

“It’s hard not to be..... you went behind my back Marcus.”

The grin vanished. “But.... I thought you wanted to start a business.... I was helping.”

“By naming the business Malarkey!?”

“Marcus and Lars, Key to solving your supernatural problem!”

Lars sighed. “I read the cards you had made....” it was hard to stay mad at his overly enthusiastic Satyr friend. “You do know what malarkey means right?”

“It means we’ll get to the bottom of things and fix your problems!”

Lars headbutted the steering wheel, the horn protested the violence with an off key semi squeal.

“Lars? You ok? Hey this place has a graveyard out front..... weird. Who does that?”

“Rich people I guess. Can’t be weird when you’re rich, or at least no one points it out to your face. Bump” he announced as he continued along the driveway. He glanced Marcus’s way just in time to see him bounce of the roof of the car. The covering above the passenger seat was a mess of tears and holes.

“OW! I hate cars.”

“No... you hate bumpy roads. Gonna have to fix the upholstery again.”

“Well you should be happy that we got a job then.”

“You got a job. I’m just part of this business that you set up without me.”

“I was helping.”

Lars shook his head. “Don’t sulk, you’re cuter when you smile.”

“Really?” Marcus smiled a little. “I’m cute?”

“Don’t push it goat boy.”

“Hey! Don’t call me that.” He sniffled. “I don’t like that.”

Lars stopped the car. “Sorry, still a little mad. Let’s see how this job goes. I mean we got several graves out front high possibility that we’ll see a few spirits hanging around. Only question is whether we need to boot them out or make a deal between them and the new owners.”

“No Exorcism?”

“Not if we don’t have to.”

“Then why’d we bring all the stuff?”

“Are you even paying attention Marcus? We.....” he sighed. “Let’s just go look at the place.” He got out and pondered briefly if he needed anything from the bag, probably not he decided. Despite the graves he didn’t feel anything really malevolent here. Mansion itself didn’t seem to be too run down either. I mean it clearly seemed to have been abandoned for a while, but it all felt.... undisturbed.

“Hey Marcus who hired us to do this again?”

Marcus shrugged as he closed the passenger door. “Some guy.”

“Some guy?”

“Yeah he came up to me at Donny’s said he’d seen a flyer and wanted help.”

“Where’d you leave the flyers?”

“Local bookstore, some mystic shops, places like that. Gave Donny a few too. Oh and the cards. Guy had one of those.”

“This guy got a name?”

Marcus shrugged again. “Probably. Gave me this address an envelope of money and asked us to check the place.”

Lars put his face in his hands wishing he’d asked more questions earlier or that he hadn’t got out of bed today. He pulled out his phone. “That’s something.” he mumbled to himself as it sprang into life. “Got signal at least.”

“To be honest I was surprised you didn’t ask me all this earlier Lars.”

“You waived 5000 dollars at me. You could have got me to do anything.”

“Anything?” Marcus grinned.

Lars rolled his eyes. “If you want that you just have to ask nicely.... not now!” he said spotting the look in Marcus’s eyes. “Job first.”

“Then?” Marcus waggled his eyebrows.

Lars sighed and shook his head. “We’re here to check if this place is haunted because someone wants to move in and that’s where your mind is?”

“Most of the time.”

Lars rolled his eyes again. “Let’s go do this. This place got a name?”

“Guy said it was Cobb Manor.” Marcus fell into step beside Lars. “Whatcha looking for?”

Lars’ thumb swiped over his phone screen. “Info about this place. Notable events and.... the fact that the entire family was cursed..... great.”

“Cursed?”

“Yeah, it’s vague but apparently no one in the family lived very long and there is talk of a curse.”

“Should I grab the bag?”

Lars paused for a moment. “No..... I don’t feel anything bad. I think we can talk this one out. Guy didn’t straight up say he wanted things banished right?”

Marcus stopped, almost tripped then tried to make it look like he was planning to stumble and pose, Lars just rolled his eyes. “Er.... not really. Just to check the place out see what, if anything, was here.”

“Huh.... well I need the money.”

“We.”

“What?”

“We. It’s Malarkey, Marcus and Lars the....”

Lars waived a hand to cut him off. “Fine, fine. We. Whatever.”

“Those cards and flyers cost money!” Marcus stamped a hoof.

“And you’re being a kid again. Come on. At least tell me you got the key to this place.”

Marcus sniffled. “Was that a goat joke?”

Lars stopped and took a breath before heading back to Marcus and giving him a hug. “No, it wasn’t. Seriously though man, I love you but you act like a child sometimes.”

“Sowwy.”

Lars rebelled against his instincts to say something, giving Marcus another squeeze before heading back towards the front door. “Key?”

“Oh! Yeah. I got it.” Marcus produced a rather large iron key.... from somewhere. Lars wondered if Satyr legs came with magical pockets built in.

“Well that’s good. Saves us a trip back.”

“Why would we go back?”

“Yes officer I did break in but it was to perform an exorcism.”

“Oh.... not a tv show.”

“No we are not. We’d be getting paid more.” Lars stepped up onto the rather expansive porch that surrounded the front door. “Key.” He held out a hand. Although thinking about it 5000 was a lot of money for something that seemed so simple. Just what was the catch here?

The voices drew her to the window, the years of grime no impediment to her peering outside. She wondered why the staff hadn’t bothered to keep them clean but the voices were certainly more interesting to think about. Men, two of them. Both seemed young, older than her of course, but young nonetheless. Was one of them wearing furry trousers? No..... no he wasn’t wearing furry trousers at all, those were his legs. She could see he had hooves as he made his way up the front stairs. He had horns as well. She’d been distracted enough by his legs she hadn’t noticed till now, had the Devil himself come to pay her a visit? Was he even here for her or was this something to do with the family curse? It looked like today might be interesting after all and they even had their own key.

The key was heavy, old school. Lars fought with the lock a little as he tried to turn it. There was a CLUNK just seconds before Marcus was going to make a joke, Lars muttered a thanks.

“What was that?” asked Marcus.

“Just glad the key works.” He said pushing open the door. “Huh... dusty.” the dust was kicked up by the breeze from the now open door. “Might have at least wanted face masks for this one. It’ll air out soon enough I guess.”

“Gentlemen.” came a young female voice.

Lars smirked, always fun when the denizens came to greet you. Saved the hassle of hunting them down. He looked at the owner of the voice. Wow. Purple. Purple was the color of the day indeed. Everything about her was purple, except the long black cigarette.... no that was a cigar holder. Hell even the cigar was purple. He blinked a little. “Miss.”

She ignored him for the moment and focused on Marcus. “Are you the Devil?”

Uh oh thought Lars. He reached for Marcus a second too late, he was already gone. Lars sighed. “You’ve upset him Miss.”

“Oh. But his legs..... He has horns.”

“And he’s rather sensitive to his looks. People make assumptions about him, most of them aren’t very nice.” He watched the young girl in purple frown, not a becoming sight on the young face. She certainly seemed corporeal enough, but there hadn’t been anyone living here for decades as far as he could tell. “If you’ll excuse me I have to go console my friend.”

“Ok.” she watched him go after his furry legged friend. She hadn’t meant to upset him, it was after all, merely a question. He did so fit some of the more religious paintings that she’d seen. She let her mind wander a little, the smoke from her cigar twisting and turning, forming vague figures as her memory searched for the source of those thoughts about the man. It couldn’t have been one of her Father’s could it? No his taste kept to his love of the hunt and all things related. It might have been at one of those dreadfully boring parties at a friend of his. One where they thought she might have had fun with the other children, but then only really spent time sneaking things out of the house like cigarettes, cigars, whiskey and the like. Must have been from one of those places. She nodded at her own decision. Must have been.

Lars looked skyward as he hugged an upset Marcus. “Come on man. Lets go back and get an apology from little miss purple. She didn’t mean anything by it.”

Sniffles were followed by a quiet “You really think so?”

“Yeah. Just one of those old rich people who say what they’re thinking because no one taught them any better.”

“Old? She looks twelve.”

Lars sighed. “You know what I mean, old like this place is.”

“So she died young?”

“Yeah, sadly. Whole family died pretty young so the internet tells me. That must be Lilly, the youngest. She was the last to go, although from how vibrant she is I’m not she she realises she’s gone yet.”

“Huh?”

“She’s either a very strong spirit or hasn’t quite gotten over the fact she’s dead. I can’t tell which.”

“Can we exorcise her now?”

“No Marcus, we are not going to exorcise her just because she upset you.” he held up a finger before Marcus could complain. “We’re going to talk to her and explain the situation.”

“Aw.... Ok.”

He rolled his eyes as they made their way back towards the entrance hall. Thankfully little miss purple had decided to remain waiting there for them.

“Lilly.... isn’t it?” asked Lars

“Miss Lilly Cobb.” she said with no uncertain pride.

“Well Miss Cobb, I would like you to apologise for upsetting my friend.”

She puffed a little on the cigar before nodding. “Sorry I upset you.”

Lars smiled. “Thank you.” the fact that everything about her was purple was still a little.... odd. “I’m Lars and this is Marcus.”

“And we’re Malarkey, the key to solving your supernatural problems!” finished Marcus.

Lars put his face in his hands but Lilly just looked thoughtful. “I really don’t think they’ve been a problem at all really. It’s what one gets for putting the graveyard so close to the house.”

“Not a problem?” asked a confused Marcus.

“No. I mean I sometimes wake up to find Mother wandering about or Father trying to organise a hunt again but it’s no bother.”

Lars couldn’t suppress the groan. Today was going to just be one of those days he could feel it.

(Still think it’s weird that anyone would request me to write something but hey, it’s a funny old world. I’d like to thank @waldorkler for the use of their OC @lilly-cobb and I guess since I write in small snippets of scenes, this one isn’t quite finished yet.)

[lubdubsworld]

Tumblr prompt ( Jimin / OC)

Read Part 1 Here

Since i got a lot of requests for a part 2 on this one. This isn’t exactly a part two but a sort of a backdrop. i would probably continue this because it’s fun to write , i guess? 

Genre : Heavy Angst \ Romance

Warnings : Dubious Consent, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation.

Pairing : Park Jimin/ OC

Request fic : An abusive marriage drabble with Jimin .

Rating : 19+

Part 2 : How We Met . 

I first met Jimin when i was eighteen years old. He was twenty three at the time, already one of the biggest stars in the country. His band BTS had won the BBMA, Daesangs, were generally acknowledged as the Kings of Kpop. I’d always had a crush on him, been one of those embarassing fangirls who sleep with photocards in the pillow covers. I had always been drawn to Jimin out of all seven of them, simply because he had seemed like such a very kind person.

And i hadn’t met a lot of those in my life. I wasn’t exactly very poor but my family had always struggled, as far as I knew. My mother ran a massage parlor in one of the seedier places in Seoul, and I knew that she did far more than just give ‘ massages’. Especially when she stuffed a 5000 Won note into my sister’s hand and told the both of us to stay out for a few hours.

When i was twelve, my mother let me know that I wasn’t really of any use to her.

“Your sister is beautiful. Like me. You take after your father. You’re too thin. No body at all. How will you help me with the business if you look like this. Go find a part time job where looks don’t matter.”

It was the first time i realized i wasn’t beautiful. Which was funny because i’d always been called pretty by the men who visited my mother. But her words made me curl in on myself and cry for days. It was like i didn’t magtter. Like I was an invisble person who had no value whatsoever, simply because i wasn’t beautiful enough to matter. 

When i was fifteen, I took up a job waitressing. it was another nail to my coffin. No one sees a waitress. We might as well be invisible. i had no one to talk to. No one willing enough to listen. i went on for days on end , not using my voice for anything except the generic, “ What would you like to have” , “ Was the meal okay “ and “ Please Eat well.” 

When I was sixteen , the clients to my mother’s shop began to dwindle.  My mother was becoming older and while my sister did help her, she was still underage. Which meant that there were some ‘ services’ she just couldn’t provide.  , i had to quit school because we could no longer afford to live on just part time jobs.

Times were tough and I clung to music, to help me get by. i started listening to a lot of music by different artists but Jimin’s voice always drew me in and made me drown. it felt like he too had been through a lot of pain as well. 

Like he knew what it was like to never be considered good enough. To always keep doubting yourself. And I felt , suddenly a little less alone. A little less lonely. i would replay little bits of his part in BTs songs, put them on loop, just to hear the emotions in his voice. I fell in love with him even then.Or maybe , i fell in love with my vision of him. the jimin in my head was kind and beautiful. He understood me. He listened to me. 

But it was all just one of those fantasies that helped me breathe . Nothing I ever thought would happen. Not even in my wildest dreams. 

But the restaurant i had started out at , had grown and I got a raise. they also started catering for huge parties and award shows and that meant that if i was lucky enough to be picked as a wait-staff, i could score free meals, as well a generous bonus.

It was in one of those parties that I first met Park Jimin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the hell?! What did you just do, you incompetent little twit?!” The woman screamed at me and i flinched , horrified. I hadn’t technically done anything. She had been swinging her arms animatedly while talking to three of the BTS members and had accidentally knocked down the Champagne glasses that i’d been carrying on a tray.

The wine had spilled , splashing out of the cut glass flutes and dousing Park Jimin’s expensive shirt which probabaly cost more than my entire existence.i just stared at the rapidly spreading stain, not sure what to do and my brain shutting down completely because it was Park jimin.

The Park jimin of my dreams. The park jimin who was kind and angelic and who would rescue me from my hell hole of a life. 

My body just froze because i couldn’t think, talk or even blink. 

“it’s alright. “ He said very softly and his gaze was so kind, so soft and gentle. He gave me a reassuring smile and i realized how incredibly beautiful he was in real life. So much more perfect than all the photos I’d seen. So gorgeous. So handsome. 

A real life prince. 

I just gaped at him as he smiled back, casually grabbing some paper towels from another waiter and wiping up the stains. 

And he didn’t stop there. He actually gently took my hands in his wiping away the spilled liquid. I could only stare as he casually knelt on the floor, ignoring all the hushed murmurs around us and picked up the broken shards of the glass as well.

“Don’t hurt yourself...” He said softly and just like that i was lost. 

And later that night, when he cornered me near the kitchens and told me he wanted to take me out to dinner, i didn’t even think to wonder,

  why me? why would someone like Park Jimin want someone like me? 

At the time , i thought it was because he was my prince Charming. 

i still think he is. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t easy , of course dating an idol. But Jimin was strong and firm. He stood up to his agency, to his fans to everyone else who tried to break us apart. it was oddly fascinating, watching somone fighting  for  me and not just fighting me.

My mother hated him. 

“Da Som, he doesn’t seem like a nice man. i’ve met men like him. They only choose women they can control and bully. He thinks you’re easy to control. My baby, don’t believe him.”

i could only laugh at her delusional words. Jimin never even raised his voice to me! He bought me beautiful things. jewelry, dresses and pretty trinkets. But that wasn’t even the most improtant thing. He talked to me. He listened to me. He made me feel like the most important person in the world, whenever I was with him. 

I loved him.

“Don’t say that about him!” I yelled at her.

“Da som- just listen to me...”

‘You’re jealous! “ I spat out angrily. “ you’re just jealous that i no longer have to stay here with you and your pretty daughter. Are you ashamed mother?! You though unnie was the prettier one but Jimin certainly doesn’t think i’m ugly , does he? He could have any girl in the world! but he chose me!” 

My mother only stared sadly while i ranted at her. 

And i felt sad, and empty. Because my mother wasn’t happy for me. 

“She’s upset that you’re leaving her baby, that’s it. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You will never miss your mother. i’m your family now.” Jimin whispered that night, drawing me close and kissing my hair. 

I slept soundly. 

That was the last time i ever spoke to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are a virgin aren’t you?” 

I blushed as I brushed my hair, seated in front of the dresser of his apartment. 

“Uh.. yes.”

He looked relieved. Happy almost. 

“Good. Good...”

Why did it matter, i wondered. 

“Because I want to be the only one to ever have touched you. The first and the last.” He said softly, bending down to kiss my cheeks. “ We’ll wait of course. Till marriage. I want you to be pure till then. It wouldn’t be fair if you wore white when you aren’t pure, right baby?” He smiled. 

“Yes. “ I said, not really understanding, but too drugged from his touches and his scent to think too much about it. 

“Good. Good. I’m a really fair person, Da Som. I would never be cruel to you.  I think we should always be honest to each other. You’ll always be honest with me, right?” He smiled , stroking my hair gently. 

“I...I’ll never lie to you jimin.” i said, surprised that he even thought i would.

“I know baby. I know the moment I saw you that you were perfect for me. You need me , don’t you baby? Only i make you happy, right?”

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We got married a week later. 

The first year of my marriage was the best time of my life. I was a good wife. I made sure that everything was perfect, the way he wanted and he always treated me like i was the most precious thing in his life. 

When we celebrated our sixth month anniversary , everyone was envious of me. Jimin had booked an entire restaurant for us and he bought me a dozen expensive dresses. He also bought me a Diamon necklace, a cartier watch and what mattered the most was that he took the entire week off. We spent it in jeju Do, exploring the tiny island and when we weren’t exploring, we were in bed. Jimin taught me the millon different ways a man could make a woman feel good and i was dizzy with pleasure and riding high from his touches. 

i was still a little tired from our lovemaking, when jimin gave me a small smile, fingers lightly stroking the bare skin of my back. 

“Your hair is getting long. “ He said casually, gripping a lock of my thick hair. 

“Oh..i like it that way, though.” I smiled brightly and his smile faded alarmingly fast. 

“You’d look better with shorter hair.” He said shortly.

I blinked a bit, surprised at how upset he sounded. 

“Oh... You think so?” i said doubtfully. Touching my hair in confusion. I liked my long hair. i thought it was a special part of me. 

“Why? You think I’d lie to you?” His voice had taken a hard edge and I turned over, sitting up a bit.

“Jimin-”

“I work my ass off so you can have the best things in the world, why would i lie about what makes you look good?” He demanded and I could only stare, not at all sure what I’d said wrong or why he was mad. 

“Jimin, calm down...”

“Calm down?! You just called me a liar and you want me to calm down? Listen, do you think I’ve got nothing better to do than sit around here with you? But i’m here... you know why? Because I care about you. Because I love you. And if you loved me back, you wouldn’t doubt me!” He said angrily.

“I’m sorry... i’m sorry if I upset you...”

“Damn right you should be. ! I give you everything! Everything. How much of it do you actually deserve huh?” He scoffed. 

i looked down at my lap, tears stinging. i felt suddenly ashamed of myself. He was right. i hadn’t earned any of these luxuries. I only had them because jimin loved me. I’d been taking for granted, all the little things that jimin did for me. And now, I’d somehow hurt the man who had done nothing but good things for me. It was unforgivable. 

“I’m so sorry Jimin...” i whispered, reaching out for him and he knocked my hand away angrily. 

“Whatever.” He got out of bed and slipped on his clothes. “ i’m going for a walk now. I can’t even look at you right now.” 

He didn’t touch me again for the rest of the week. I begged and apologized and tried to make it up to him but he stayed unmoving, ignoring my tears and my apologies. 

i felt myself sinking into depression. 

It was like i was invisible again and I hated it. I went mad, i couldn’t eat and i couldn’t sleep. Food tasted like saw dust. I was dying inside my own skin and i wanted to claw out of my body. I hated myself for ruining things. Because I had, hadn’t i? 

I’d hurt Jimin and i’d ruined things for both of us. 

When we returned back, the first thing i did was find a salon. I got my hair cut short, just the way he wanted. 

When jimin came home that night, he smiled at me for the first time in days. 

“You’re so good for me, baby. i just want to be proud of you. If you listen to me, you can be a wife that I’d be proud of.” 

I nodded, the words not even registering. All that mattered was that he was touching me again. 

I wasn’t invisible anymore. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[tastesoftamriel]

Into Oblivion, part 4 (a long tale by Talviel)

We looked toward the path. “Lass, better idea. Let’s climb up those rocks and skip the path altogether. I’ve got an uneasy feeling about it.” I nodded, and we scaled the rocks easily, after years of thieving. Creeping along and looking down, the area was clear so far. A few meters along, I spotted an odd cocoon-like shape dangling in a small alcove. “Bryn, look. The journal mentioned those things and how they usually contain valuable treasure.” “Lass, as I said, we don’t know the terrain and I don’t want to stir up any trouble with the locals, let’s-” “The High King wants treasure, and if we’ve come all this way, so do I.” I said decisively, and not waiting for a response, leapt down towards the pod. I slashed it open and gagged on the foul stench that emanated from it, but grinned when I found my reward. Gold, gems, some valuable jewellery, and an expensive-looking yet pleasingly lightweight enchanted helmet lay on the ground scattered with bones. I shoved them into the sack slung over my shoulder, signalling to Brynjolf that I’d be right up. All of a sudden, I heard heavy thudding footsteps rushing towards me at an alarming pace. “Lass, look out!” Brynjolf screamed, as I turned around to see some sort of gigantic frilled reptile running on its hind legs toward me. I swore and drew my sword, unable to use the Thu'um to push it away.

I ducked as the creature’s gaping maw lurched toward me, and snapped shut where my head had been just a moment ago. I stabbed low and hard at its abdomen, and it let out an infernal shriek and kicked me backwards with its strong hind legs. I stumbled, and it came towards me again. I aimed my sword at its neck, when all of a sudden I heard Brynjolf yell “Incoming!” and the creature’s head split in two. It wobbled briefly, and fell to the ground. “What in tarnation were you thinking, Vi?” he shouted at me, reeling slightly from the force of the jump. “You almost got yourself killed and we’ve only been here a moment!” “I’m sorry Bryn, that was stupid and spontaneous of me. I won’t do it again. But look!” I opened the sack to show him my loot. He whistled under his breath. “Damn right you won’t be doing it again. We spot a pod, we go down together next time, understand? I don’t know what else we’ll find, but that alone is worth at least 5000 septims, which I’m sure the High King won’t miss if we keep this up.” I nodded in agreement, and we climbed the rock wall again.

Brynjolf vigilantly kept his eyes open for any danger, while I kept my eyes trained on the path for any more pods. Luckily for us, there were was one every couple of hundred meters, and along the way we only needed to dispatch a single storm atronach and a few scamps while collecting valuable loot. So far so good. The path came to an abrupt end at the mouth of a cave, sealed by a door. Brynjolf and I glanced at each other and leapt down, blades drawn.

We pushed the stone door open, and thankfully it was smooth and didn’t make a grating sound to alert anything inside. We slipped in, crouching and sticking to the shadows as we tried to navigate the cave. All of a sudden, an ominous voice rang out, and I heard the distinctive sound of an atronach being conjured. “I know you’re here, scum. You can’t hide from me.” Brynjolf put a finger to his lips and stopped creeping, hoping that the dremora would go away. The loud stomping and groaning of a frost atronach made its way towards us, the dremora in tow. I smashed angrily at the atronach with my blade, which was enchanted with a burning spell, and it crumbled within seconds. Brynjolf was fighting off the dremora, which was frighteningly quick and cunning with a blade. I ran in to help him, and we cornered the dremora with its back facing a small pool of lava. It laughed, swiping at us with one long blow, and Brynjolf ducked and simultaneously kicked it into the lava, which was deeper than we’d anticipated. It gurgled briefly before incinerating. “Well, that takes care of that.” He said, out of breath.

We returned to creeping along the walls of the corridors, running into more scamps and a spider daedra, which we picked off easily. For our efforts though, a few more pods hung on the ceiling and we smiled as we scooped the precious loot into our sacks. “If this keeps up, lass, the High King isn’t going to have a clue if we give him just a quarter of it.” He grinned. I held up a disgusting-looking breastplate made of what looked like human skin and bone. “Well, as long as we keep finding shiny things instead of crap like this. There’s another door over there, but before we head out let’s look at the map I drew again.” We leaned over the sheaf of parchment, and I pulled out the map. “Right, the next thing should be a tower called a ‘Spindle Shrine’, whatever that means.” Referring to my notes, they said to expect a number of enemies, but that we could replenish our health at ‘blood fountains’. Brynjolf made a retching noise as he read it. “I hope that doesn’t mean it’s literally a fountain of blood.” He moaned. I adjusted my armour and the strap of my loot sack, then looked at him. “Ready to go?” He nodded, and we cautiously pushed the door open.

We found ourselves back out in the open, with a daedroth along the short path with its back turned towards us. Brynjolf used the Guild signal for ‘run’, and we sprinted to the tower in front of us as quickly as we could, slamming the door behind us. “I hope that thing can’t open doors.” Brynjolf panted, as we pressed against the door and hoped the angry pounding on the outside would go away. Thankfully, it subsided after some moments, evidently having a short attention span. Unfortunately for us, the noise had awakened a few monsters, including another daedroth that we’d just narrowly escaped. “Ah, fuck.” I grumbled, standing back-to-back with Brynjolf. “Bryn, you take the ones on the left side, I’ll take the ones on the right.” “Aye, lass.” He said, and we ran forward in opposite directions, our weapons drawn and ready. I feverishly lunged towards two spider daedra, jumping over their small clones that I’d read would paralyse upon contact, which could be fatal for me. I beheaded one and impaled the other, then froze a flame atronach with a partial Thu'um to save my breath.

I ran towards Brynjolf, who was flailing at the daedroth in annoyance. “This fucking thing won’t die!” He yelled at me. “Get out of the way!” I called out, and he nimbly ducked and rolled to the side. I steadied myself, then shouted “Yol Toor Shul!” at the creature. It screamed as it was set alight, and Brynjolf and I took the opportunity to stab through its thick hide as many times as we could. Eventually, it fell to the ground, its corpse still burning. “Why did I get the big angry lizard thing?” Brynjolf asked, blood running down his cheek from a gash on his forehead. “Daedroth,” I corrected him. “And Brynjolf, you’re the big strong hero man that saves me, the poor damsel in distress.” “Fuck off, lass. You’re a thousand times more capable than half of the Imperial army assembled at once. Well, even though you’re bleeding.” “You’re bleeding too, my hero.” I laughed, and went to investigate the corridors where the monsters had emerged from. A single pod hung from the ceiling, and at the far end of the corridor stood what I only imagined could be a blood fountain. Curious, I went to stick a finger in, then thought better of it. “Nope.” I muttered, and swilled a mouthful from a bottle of a potion of healing instead. Brynjolf stared at the fountain with distaste, before motioning for me to pass the bottle. We cut down the pod at the opposite end of the room, whooping as fine gold jewellery and polished diamonds fell out.

We climbed to the top of the tower, and were faced with what looked like two heavy control switches. They were heavily rusted, and it took both of us to pull them down one at a time. Loud grinding noises echoed through the tower and the walls shook. “I don’t know what we just did, but judging by the size of those levers I sure hope it’s that big fat gate we saw when we landed.” “If it is, let’s turn back through that cave, go back along the path, and we have our destination.” Brynjolf said. We descended the tower once more and headed back to the cave door, the daedroth outside thankfully gone. We pushed and shoved at the door, only to realise with dismay that it was stuck. “Shit, this place is working against us.” Brynjolf swore. “No way but forward I guess. Come on, Vi.” We went back inside the Spindle Shrine, opening the door that we’d ignored earlier. Hot wind lashed our faces, and we were faced with a long stone bridge, broken in the middle and too far to jump across. Brynjolf opened his sack and pulled out a long coil of rope and one of the enchanted hooks the Guild used to climb basically anywhere with security.

“Mind your head, lass.” Brynjolf warned me, and I stepped back a few paces as he assembled the rope and hook with a tight knot, then swung the rope over his head several times before throwing it to the other side. He tugged it a few times to check that it was fully secure, then waved me over to grab on tight to the rope. “I fucking hate doing this.” I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut. “Are you kidding me? This is one of the best parts about thieving! Now hold tight, we jump on three.” He said, amusement in his voice. “One…two…three!” Brynjolf shouted as he pushed us off the ledge. I screamed as we swung into open air, my hands and legs clinging for dear life onto the rope. With my eyes still closed, I began to inch my way up, hoping that it would be a short distance. I felt strong hands grip me by the arms and lift me up onto the bridge. “Bloody hell lass, they probably heard that scream all the way in Sovngarde.” He spluttered with laughter, undoing the hook and throwing the equipment back inside the bag. I pouted and turned to the door in front of us.

“Map time.” I said, digging out my parchment again. “Right. From that awful jump, it looks like we bypassed the equally awful sounding ‘Blood Well’ and ‘Caverns of the Abused’, probably missing out on some nice loot but saving our lives and time in the process. We should now be facing ‘Sigil Keep’. It’s apparently infested with dremora and other not-so-nice things, so I suggest we take a breather before heading on.” I said. We sat on the broken bridge, sharpening and recharging our blades and the hook with soul gems for the journey ahead, and I shared a potion of extreme stamina with Brynjolf to energise us. He stood up when he was ready, and pulled me to my feet. He pulled me in tight and kissed me. “Lass, thanks to you we just might make it.” He whispered in my ear, holding me tight. “Don’t hex it, we’ve still a way to go yet.” I replied, giving him a squeeze. We pushed the Sigil Keep door open and crept inside.

End of part 4