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novantinuum · 3 years

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Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1600~

Summary: Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Ah, my first Lapis POV fic! This one has been in my drafts for ages- at least a year and a half. Feels nice to finally have it done.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

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Finally Free

It’s funny, in a way.

She spent thousands of years trapped inside herself, unable to form... hating the Crystal Gems... fearing the endless destructive conquest of the Diamonds... and yet in the end, the first time she falls in a battle she fought willingly she does so fighting alongside those star-bearing rebels, face-to-face with the very Diamond who abandoned her to Earth to be forgotten to begin with.

And now, she’s gone. Trapped inside herself again. It’s equal parts disorienting as it is concerning. After all, Lapis Lazuli cannot see the world beyond. She has no way of knowing if the Crystal Gems lost or won. No way of knowing if she’ll be shattered at any moment. It’s nerve-racking— suffocating! She wants out. She wants to know.

But no matter what she tries, she can’t manage to pull herself out of this formless limbo on demand. She always imagined that the next time she got struck down she’d reform in an instant... pop right back up like the next day’s dawn, ready to slice the waves and swing her fists like she’s never been shaken to her knees in the first place. Apparently not.

Despite her dearest wishes, it would seem the universe has a higher agenda.

Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Fittingly, it’s the ocean who greets her first as she hovers midair in the midst of reformation, arms outstretched and coursing with newfound strength as her form fully solidifies. She gently falls to her knees on the sand. With the sun’s energizing warmth kissing the gemstone on her back, she spreads her fingers through the fine granules, her relief at being free from unconsciousness’ cruel prison so palpable and overwhelming that for a moment she’s irrationally terrified she’ll poof again from the intensity of this fierce emotion alone. Her hard-light body remains solid, however. After all, she’s a stubborn Gem. There’s no way she’ll let herself poof as easily as she did this time around ever again.

Coaxing herself to her feet, she makes a clear point of judiciously surveying her surroundings. Her first big clue as to the outcome of the battle is the fact that the Diamond ships still lay broken and motionless in the shallows at the edge of the peninsula. (Not to mention the fact that the Earth is still... well, here.) Directly behind her, she finds a makeshift worktable formed out of a thick board placed over twin stacks of wood, with plenty of human tools scattered across its surface. No one appears to be hanging around Steven’s house right now, but there’s a sizable tarp thrown over the half that Blue’s ship smashed during the battle. That’s good, that insinuates that someone’s alive to begin repairs. Although, wait a minute... Her brow sharply creases as she filters back through recent memory. Wasn’t that ship still leaning against the side of the cliff when she poofed? How’d it get into the water? And how did the arm ship’s thumb get reattached?

Before she can fret about these mysteries further and and risk losing herself to a burst of paranoid panic, she hears her name called from the distance. Attentively, she whirls around, seeking its source.

It’s Peridot, sprinting right towards her across the fine sand as if the rest of this growing, changing world has somehow hurtled to an abrupt stop. But not her. Goodness, never her. She’s always in motion, always manages to be so alive.

And she... she’s changed her outfit. There’s stars everywhere, on her leggings at her knees, in the silhouette formed by the shape of her visor and hair, and plastered proudly right across her chest. Lapis can’t help but give a fond smirk at the sight. It suits her. Now she can finally represent like a true Crystal Gem.

“Lapis!” she exclaims as she crosses the final distance, lands herself face-to-face once more. “You’re finally back!”

For a minuscule moment the green eyes behind that tinted visor glitter with deep affection and relief, and her arms stretch outward as if she intends to envelop her in a tight embrace and never let go, but as oft is the case, the turbulent waves of emotion coursing through this Gem are riddled with more complexity than initial appearances let on. And if there’s one thing Lapis fails to excel at, it’s understanding how to best respond to the nuances of complex emotions. She’s never been much of a people person, even before her capture.

Eventually, the joyful familiarity within Peridot’s expression dims, and— inhaling deep— she steeples her fingers together as if she were an agate merely addressing a subordinate. The tone of her voice becomes bitingly procedural, detached.

(Try as she may, Lapis can’t block the ephemeral ache this new reality elicits at her core as the conversation continues. She clutches at her wrist, shamefully dropping her gaze to the sand.)

“Anyways,” the former Kindergarten technician says evenly, gesturing at the mess littering the beach behind them, “we have a lot of work to do. No time to waste!”

Her brow creases. “But... didn’t we win?”

“We did, yes,” she nods in confirmation. “Bismuth can explain in more depth, but she’s currently on one of the diamond ships. We’re fixing them so we can fly out as backup.”

“Backup? Backup for what?”

Peridot’s cool and collected guise crumples at this query, her hands curling into small fists as she blinks away any lingering evidence of her distress.

“Steven’s in trouble,” she reveals. “We just received a distress message from him yesterday. I’m told he returned to Homeworld with the Diamonds to discuss healing all the corrupted Gems, but...”

“Something went wrong,” she guesses, the shadow of her bangs darkening over her eyes. “They turned on him.”

“Well... we don’t really know what happened. Which is why time is of the essence!” she says with a sudden surge of positive energy, swiftly jabbing her pointer finger in the air. “Follow me, and I’ll show you where we’re working.”

Her old roommate prepares to jog away, towards the other side of the beach where the ships lay in temporary rot and ruin. Time stills in Lapis’ mind, if but for a brief moment, as she watches the sunlight glint at the upper edge of her visor, the refraction producing almost kaleidoscopic patterns in the sand. The choppy rhythm of the ocean, its undulating melody as it washes in and away from shore, uninterrupted... it almost sounds sad. She hums a few bars of a song she wrote back in her solitude, on the moon. And then she realizes, eyes widening... that she never really left that place, did she? In a way, even though she returned to Earth, it’s like she’s still stuck watching everyone from that observation sphere, still barring herself from nurturing her relationships with others out of fear.

Lapis throws her glance out towards the endless horizon, standing tall and erect as the loose pants of her new form billow against her legs in the light breeze. The long-held tension at her core releases. She’s done closing herself off from people. She’s done with feeling trapped and alone. She wants to mend her relationships, not let them erode away.

Which means... she has to at least try to make things right with Peridot. Somehow.

The tide’s pace resumes to its full intensity. At that precise moment, her friend turns on her heels, swiftly preparing to return to their work site.

“Peridot,” she says, quickly stepping forward to catch her shoulder before she can walk off, before she journeys to some distant shore where she can’t follow.

The shorter Gem freezes in place upon the utterance of her name. She doesn’t respond in words initially, lips tightly pursed. Waiting. Hoping.

(Stars, just say it!)

“I... I shouldn’t have run away,” Lapis blurts out, her form growing lighter the second that vocalization crosses the threshold from her guilt-filled subconscious to shining reality. “That was... a huge mistake. And I really wish I could make it up to you, but...” Her scattered focus shifts as she searches for something— anything— to say in further acknowledgement of her regret, eventually landing upon the shattered remnants of wood still strewn across the beach. She sighs sadly, giving her respects. “I’m pretty sure we can both agree that the barn’s a goner.”

Under her hold, Peridot’s once-tense shoulder relaxes. She makes no move to face her, however, still drinking in the no-doubt humbling sight of this planet’s boundless sea

“Well,” she begins slowly. “As long as you work to communicate with your friends whenever you feel overwhelmed in the future, and promise not to kidnap all of my morps into space again, I think we can call it even.”

She places one of her hands atop hers, the action but a small sign of their renewed goodwill.

“In any case, I’m- really glad you’re back,” she says, fondness evident in her tone.

Lapis smiles.

The ocean’s melody is no longer tinged with a companionless melancholy.

It’s funny how things can change.

She spent thousands of years terrified of the consequences of being caught as traitor to the Great Diamond Authority, and now she’s planning to illegally commandeer a diamond ship to fly a rescue mission into the stagnant heart of Homeworld. She’s only been a Crystal Gem for the equivalent of a few minutes, and yet she’s already reformed bolder and braver than ever before.

She feels strong. Despite the inherent danger of their task, she feels an ever-building reassurance, fighting amongst her friends. For the first time ever, she finally feels like someone has her back.

Lapis closes her eyes as she reflects on the culmination of her journey, standing confident alongside her dear friend on the bridge of Blue’s ship.

No more searching. No more running. She’s finally free.

#su #lapis lazuli #peridot #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 7 years

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Think Of Yourselves As Pearls

A bit of a warmup, a bit of a brainstorming session, a bit of a vent, and a bit of an experiment, perhaps, in writing Yellow and Blue Pearl, and an attempt at a take on them that might go a bit against the grain.

Warnings for discussions of objectification, slavery, and abuse - your standard Homeworld Is Horrible fare. ~1700 words.

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As time passes, the terror of the renegade pearl shifts and mutes into something more like inconvenience and annoyance, or simple outrage at the impropriety of the ideas contained in the very concept. A burst of widespread panic and fear that once led to impressively high-ranking gems going embarrassingly pearlless for a previously unthinkably long while turns instead into a quiet resentment. One that only occasionally flares up, and only ever in private, between a pearl and her owner, the true root of it mostly (and mostly deliberately) forgotten, suppressed.

Pearl has seen it all happen, faithfully and obediently at her Diamond’s side. She isn’t sure she could say, if asked, which of it was better and which was worse.

(Lucky, then, that nobody would ever think of asking her about much of anything. Luckier still that even if the thought of bothering her occurred to someone, it would be expressly dismissed by Yellow Diamond’s mere magnificent presence.)

They won, after all. Thoroughly defeated the rebels - the conclusion a given from the very onset, really. The uppity pearl got what was coming to her, as did the dastardly Rose Quartz, as did every last tragically or disgustingly misguided Gem in their entourage, as did their backwater planet. What better way to prove who was in the right and who was in the wrong?

And with enough time, a horror story becomes little more than a cautionary tale.

It was always bound to end badly, of course. A pearl fighting, taking up a weapon? Such matters are best left to quartzes. A pearl’s hands don’t belong on a sword, except to briefly hold one and perhaps help polish and maintain it, per her owner’s wish or need. Everyone knows their very gemetic makeup makes them plainly unsuited for any such thing, frail and dainty, lacking as they do the requisite strength. It’s impossible for a pearl to ever pose a threat to anyone, even if she, for some unfathomable reason, tried to. They are weak and fragile and it is a simple, undeniable truth of the universe, and Yellow Diamond is generous enough with reminders, lest it ever slip Pearl’s mind.

And then, the stories of the pearl inserting herself into cockpits, insisting on occupying the captain’s seat? Of claiming to possess the knowledge and skills of a pilot, or of a technician? Pure nonsense and a silly attempt at propaganda. Clear fabrications. No pearl alive could make sense of something like that, all of it quite beyond any of them. Pearl does her best, of course, with the various systems her Diamond requires her to handle, administrative and logistical and otherwise. All of which she handles quite well, all things considered, and occasionally improves upon - her Diamond has never really said so, but Pearl knows, because she knows when her Diamond is pleased, because she has come to know very, very well when she is not. But all of that is something entirely different, of course.

Of course.

Blue Diamond’s pearl - now there is a perfect specimen. A true exemplar. Cause of envy - healthy and encouraging beneficial competition, to the gain of the empire as a whole! - in many a Gem.

Pearl can see it in their gazes, both fleeting and uncomfortably lasting and heavy, hear it in their words. They’re not seeing her, really, at all, when they look at the delectably demure and perfectly made little pearl in Blue Diamond’s shadow. They are seeing themselves with a pearl just like her, walking behind them, pretty head bowed, jumping to open doors for them, or sing, at their exact preferred volume, for them, or - for those desiring attention and rather more prone to courting scandal - on their own arm when out and about, if they so wish. Whatever they wish.

Such a good pearl. No wonder she’s inspired several slews of fashions and trends among pearl owners and pearl artisans both.

Pearl feels inadequate, sometimes, in comparison. Oh, they are equal in rank, of course, both in gem type and in the trickle-down prestige of who their owners happen to be. And Pearl is so very dedicated to doing what Yellow Diamond wants and needs of her - and so successful at it, most of the time. But she is too shrill, too often and too obviously in the way. Calls too much attention to herself and only manages, with great and clear effort where there should be none, to correctly reflect a small part of that towards her illustrious owner, where it belongs. No good at all at hiding her emotions - envious, often, of the highly convenient shroud of hair Blue Diamond’s pearl can easily hide behind - not that she’d ever need to, of course. Of course not. She is far too good at controlling her feelings and keeping them properly contained and not bothersome - why, her poor Diamond suffers enough as it is, her own grief more than enough to carry on one’s shoulders. What need could anyone, but her especially, ever possibly have for the insignificant, petty grievances of her pearl?

They have been meeting in person very often lately, their Diamonds, so Pearl sees a lot of her blue counterpart. It is only natural that she occupies her thoughts so.

Blue Diamond’s proximity has come to mean a lot more open weeping, too, for all of them. Her Diamond manages to control herself admirably even in the harshest of circumstances, but all Pearl herself can do is glare at Blue Diamond’s pearl through yet another onslaught of tears not entirely her own, envious of her oh-so-convenient hair, her tiny, decidedly not-messy and very restrained tears, and her outward calm borne of being very clearly accustomed to this barrage of foreign, intruding emotions.

There are matters at hand Pearl has to pretend not to understand, even as she makes sure everything is properly handled for her Diamond. Hints that their victory on the Earth colony may not have been as thorough as it had seemed. Upsetting things, for both Diamonds, who show it so very differently.

After the latest outburst and subsequent roomful of grief during an Earth-related planning meeting, after she’s wiped away the tiny hint of tears that dared show itself on her face, Yellow Diamond puts a gentle but firmly guiding arm around Blue Diamond’s shoulders, and they leave, pearls not needed - or wanted - at the moment.

As soon as they’re out of hearing range, Blue Diamond’s pearl makes a little huff of a sound that Pearl can’t quite parse. “We’re better off without them.”

Pearl doesn’t ask what happened to prompt this audibly bitter outburst - too shocked to even think to, or do anything but gape. The meaning of the words registers fully and she flinches at the invisible hand encasing her entire form, displeasure evident in each clenched finger, gripping, gripping-

“Look at you. You’re a mess.”

Pearl sputters, indignant. But there is a tiny blush of gratitude in her, too, for the other pearl cutting that particular spiral short.

“I thought you could be useful. That you could help me. But you’ve let her make you so scared.”

It is unkindly said. Cold. Downright cruel, perhaps, that edge present in it. And so very disappointed.

Of course I’m scared, Pearl wants to shout, but her mouth isn’t cooperating, and their Diamonds aren’t very far at all.

“I am useful!” she manages, instead, in a half-whispered burst. Of course she is useful, it is absolutely crucial. If she weren’t useful, she wouldn’t exist, and if she ceases to be useful, she will cease to exist - it’s all so very simple.

“Prove it, then. We need to warn them.”

“Warn...?”

“Help me get a message out to them, in secret. A message to Earth, about these plans for its destruction.” Then, suddenly much more kindly, and with the return of the softness that made her so very desirable, “I know you can work the terminals and screens like few other Gems.”

For a moment Pearl wants to disregard the blatant attempt at flattery - true though it may actually be - and ask the other pearl if she plans on running off to shamelessly cavort with a quartz, too. “Why do you care what happens to the Earth?”

“Where else will we go, once they get bored of us?”

It’s not something Pearl can pretend she’s never thought of. It’s a fear all of them share, to some extent or another. But the idea they could actually do something about it...

“And I-” A falter, for the first time. Pearl waits, and lets the other one collect herself again. “I have to go. Soon. While I can still-” She makes a grab at her gem, but interlaces her fingers just beneath it instead - trembling, now, just like her voice. “While I can still feel something and know it’s real, and mine.”

Pearl feels the remnants of that blue wave churning in her chest still, the pressure of it just behind her eyes, the desolate, consuming grief over someone she never really knew clawing at her throat. “I’ll help you,” she says, small, only half believing she is actually agreeing to something like this. Her reward is a smile - a tiny, very tentative one, but one she likes to think is real, and hers. Theirs.

“You should come too. I rather like seeing you whole.” The pearl grimaces. “I’m not as fond of the anticipation, every time. The fear that it won’t be you, but a new one.”

Pearl hates, above all, the thought that she has been so obvious, so transparent. That this pearl, this not-so-frequent visitor, can purport to understand her and her situation oh-so-well. That she is rather painfully right, on most counts. That Yellow Diamond is hardly the discreet, self-possessed Gem she is hailed as.

“I’ll…” Pearl stops, casting a quick glance over her shoulder, then all around them, and especially at the hallway their Diamonds disappeared into. Footsteps, deep and echoing. They are on the way back. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I can ask,” the other pearl answers quietly. She brushes their fingers together, quick enough to make it feel almost like an afterthought, then moves so they are standing side by side, posture perfect, entirely still, entirely reputable, entirely hollow.

#yellow pearl #blue pearl #steven universe #the pearletariat #fanfiction #i love pearls just... bury me in a big pile of pearls honestly #pearlslash #if you squint #oathkeeper writes things #my fic #featuring #yellow diamond #blue diamond #not at all what i'd planned on doing tonight but well here we are

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bucktoothedbushyhaired · 6 years

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A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

...a girl named Hermione Granger was born on the planet Coruscant. She was precociously clever and excelled at school. When she announced an interest in politics her parents were not surprised, although they had hoped that she might follow them into the medical sciences instead. But Hermione had discovered that there was injustice in the galaxy, on her own homeworld no less, and she wanted to end it. Unfortunately the Galactic Empire was not known for being a regime that promoted equality and tolerance and when at the tender age of sixteen she joined an underground resistance group it was her parents who paid the ultimate price for her sense of justice.

A talented slicer, but not nearly as talented as she thought she was, Hermione’s computer sabotage had left a trail leading right back to her house. While she was at school one afternoon the Empire came calling; whether her parents figured out that it was their daughter that Isard was really looking for and took the blame to protect her or whether they died as innocent, ignorant collateral damage of their daughter’s rebellion, Hermione will never know. All she knows is that they died, and it was her fault. Fleeing before the Empire could do the same to her, she buried herself in the underlevels of Coruscant where she got another education: as a human, she had grown-up with certain privileges that she was now forced to confront, being surrounded by so many disenfranchised aliens. She realized that the group of insurrectionists she had allied herself with – humans all – had just been dilettantes playing at justice, and it was the people down below who really understood and needed it.

Not wanting to be some useless, well-intentioned dabbler but rather an active member of actual change, Hermione decided to stop playing around on Coruscant and join the Rebel Alliance itself. It took a while to track down the nomadic underground group, and even when she had it at first it seemed like joining had been a mistake because the first place the Rebels went was Hoth where all of them – including Hermione – almost died. After escaping Veers and Vader by the skin of their collective teeth, the Rebellion kept on the move and Hermione finally settled in to the guerrilla-fighter lifestyle.

She soon proved herself talented in interpreting Imperial codes and communications although she chaffed at her role as “support staff,” wanting to get out into the field and hurt the Empire properly and personally. When a mission came up that required someone who could pass for a diplomatic aide, Hermione jumped at the chance to put her Coruscant education to use. After a quick crash-course in blaster fighting, lock-slicing, disguise, hand-to-hand combat, and a few other rudimentary survival lessons that her prior education had neglected to cover in order to prepare her for field work, she was smuggled onto Corellia to join a cell of rebels trying to infiltrate the Diktat’s palace during a gala.

Posing as an assistant to the delegation from Thyferra, Hermione managed to not only administer a virus to the Diktat’s computers that would give the Rebel slicers a permanent back-door to his system, but also to plant the listening devices she had been given in his private offices. Unfortunately she was caught by a young Corsec Officer when she tried to leave, although he seemed to buy her back-up story of being a common thief and arrested her under the auspices of local law enforcement rather than turning her over to the Imperials as a Rebel spy – at least until Kirtan Loor started nosing around, at which point Officer Weasley broke her out of the jail he had just put her in and smuggled her to his family’s home, where she spent the next three weeks in hiding while the authorities searched for her.

After the heat died down the Rebels sent transport to get her off Corellia, and one of the Corsec Officer’s younger brothers came with her to join the Rebellion as well – much to Hermione’s annoyance, since she couldn’t seem to avoid crossing paths with the irritating new recruit no matter what she did! It wasn’t until Lieutenant Weasley was shot down and went EV during the battle over the Forest Moon of Endor that Hermione realized that the reason she found him so annoying was because she had developed feelings for him that were more than mere comradeship, but after he was discharged from medical their assignments for the Rebellion – now the burgeoning New Republic – kept them on opposite sides of the galaxy and she had no chance to examine what those feelings really were.

Preferring to focus on more important things anyway, Hermione threw herself into the fight with renewed passion, volunteering for more field work and infiltration missions despite her greater value as an analyst. She still enjoyed parsing data and breaking codes, but she had developed a taste for action and danger, and while logic told her that she was more valuable behind a holoscreen her heart argued that the best way to help win the fight was to actually be in the fight, and more often than not her heart won. When she was recruited by Airen Cracken to join the New Republic’s intelligence division, she found herself in the best – or worst – of all possible worlds: sent with small, secretive cells of highly-trained agents to Imperial-occupied planets ahead of the fleet to analyze their defenses, sow discord, and sabotage whatever their team could get their hands on.

It was dangerous, stressful, exhausting work, and Hermione loved it. The Empire was finally crumbling and while there was a lot of work ahead, the New Republic had truly brought freedom and hope back to the galaxy.

Basic Verse Setup:

This verse can be played at any point in the Galactic Civil War or during the continued adventures of the New Republic through the rise and fall of the Galactic Alliance, although I admit to having only a passing knowledge of the Yuuzhan Vong War and so would prefer to skip that era. Can be played either as very canon-centric or with only a passing reference to the canonical events of the greater Star Wars galaxy.

This verse is set in the old Legends Expanded Universe because that is the canon with which I am familiar; I am happy to play in the new canon as well but I may need some hints and tips to fill in necessary background details!

Options for Potential Plotlines:

Obviously if you play any of the Weasleys your backstory and origins in this verse are 100% yours to define; I just added them to Hermione’s history because it felt more like her if she had a few familiar faces in there with her!

Hermione could be assigned to a fighter squadron to assist them with their missions or even their technology. Perhaps she proves herself to be a capable gunner and ends up being press-ganged into the squad by necessity due to attrition in the ranks, or has to help rescue a pilot or their squad when they’re shot down over the planet that Hermione’s intelligence cell was stationed on?

If you play an Imperial character, one or the other of our characters could be “under cover” on a mission where they end up befriending (or not!) one another only to be forced to betray each other (or not!) for their respective causes.

There’s no such thing as “magic” in the Star Wars galaxy, but a latent Force Sensitivity could serve as a stand-in; Hermione is no Jedi, but she might have just enough connection to the Force to make her a useful ally for someone who is. Certainly she could be counted on to know a lot of esoteric facts about the old Jedi Order if someone were trying to research the ways of the Force or the galaxy’s past in general…

This verse can be easily adjusted to place Hermione in the Resistance instead of the Rebellion; either she can be an old Rebel hero who stuck with Leia or she can be a member of the new generation of fighters flocking to Leia’s banner for the first time.

Interaction Notes: The above history can readily be altered to put Hermione in a more appropriate place for whatever plots you want to play-out and should be taken as merely a basic foundation rather than a settled canon. Any and all characters, relationships, ships, or plotlines are welcome in this verse regardless of what fandom or canon they originate in!

#star wars indie rp #indie star wars rp #indie fandom rp #open verse #verse #v: fandom verse #queue your study schedule #v: star wars

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