I never really embraced the idea of crackships before because they're painful.
Though I'm not sure if I'll make this a multi-chap (I never really finish 'em). I think I just wanna run through very long one or two shots or short stories. English isn't my mother tongue so pardon me for any mistakes. I try my best to be extra critical about my grammar but some does tend to slip every now and then. But let me know what you think, ya? REVIEW!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything (literally) and they all belong to their respective conglomerates.
The plot, at least, is mine. Also characters that you don't think belongs anywhere.
Not Beta-d. Anyone who wants to is welcome.
I dedicate this:
To my valiant and loyal rabbit, Maximo Aurelius Von Figaro (Fifi for short) for sitting next to me on the floor and keeping me company as I shut out the rest of the world while I wrote this. Also my inspiration; in Japanese myth, bunnies live on the moon and make mochis, though this fic has nothing to do with them. Maybe.
To Vinnie and Rambo, RIP, the internet bunnies that always made me smile.
The internet; you have everything I need. EVERYTHING.
To the Jack Frost x Elsa fans; keep on believing, brethren!
To Cali, I miss you. Stop shutting me out with your 3DS game. I don't want to be someone you used to know. I'm trying not to go all Nikai on you.
To Sheena, for encouraging me to do this even if you don't really like this stuff.
For Arialene (author of the Frostbitten series), for being awesome.
-x-
A very long time ago; whilst the Earth was a youngling and barely had any children, though smaller than its sibling – the moon had its own advanced civilization. They were exponentially intelligent but highly traditional; they found the harmony between magic and technology, and were the centre of their everyday lives.
They were nested inside a colossal but ancient Three-Layered Dome (Externus, Medius and lastly, Penitus) or The Sanctum Sanctorum, almost deemed as a silent deity that mothered and protected them from the harsh lunar terrain outside her barriers made of energy in bright hues.
It was as big as an entire nation and graced the dark half of the moon's surface – the side that faced away from the Earth. The Outer Dome is or Externus is the barricade that shields the inner sections from the falling astral debris of Spatia. The Middle Dome or Medius is what composes the bioatmosphere that are essential for The Sanctum Sanctorum's ecology. The Inner Dome or Penitus had its own mountains and coniferous forestry up North; the long West was barren tundra; the lush tropics were settled in the far East; while the Lunarians built their foundations down in the evergreen South; each region was blessed with its own flora and fauna where countless species has been identified and categorized.
Their cities was lighted and brought to life by runes and crystals that were embedded with magic – all connected to wires and cables, cogs and pegs, copper and tungsten, oil and steam – all those big and small complicated whatnots that powered a young Lunarian's night lamp. Their bustling roads were paved with brilliant marble, granite, sandstone and other precious minerals; homes were carved from pristine white stones, some were of modest wood.
They have massive towers, enormous buildings, and gigantic bridges for their use and purpose for industries and trade. All of them conscientiously and tortuously carved with prayers and holy rites for protection and providence in their own magnificent parlance.
Lunarians are almost identical to Earthlings in the physical aspect but they have definitive features while the Earthlings vary; they have striking blue eyes in sundry shades, snow-white hair that darkens to ashen grey with age and a permanent pallor on their skin. Some were Adepts, Lunarians blessed with magic within them, regardless; none saw themselves above the other; all had one tongue, one culture and one kingdom; and thus they nurture the deepest sense brotherhood and value it above all.
A Lunarian would never have any ill intent; therefore, they were compassionate and benevolent – regardless of their rank and social standing. They were long lived so they were patient, diligent and had no reason to be greedy. Most of them anyway…
And if you're wondering, of course they're looking after their Earthling cousins; as it would seem that they flourish rather slowly because their physiology is very limited; they have observed that Earthlings have shorter life spans – surprisingly less than a hundred years, they tire easily and require feeding more frequently.
Understandably, Earthlings are a lot more self-centred because their time is inadequate to achieve what is truly needed to be done. They have developed this psychology that their life is fleeting, which is somewhat bitterly truthful, and that they're in a race against time.
Taking pity, The Lunarians have taught them language, art and politics – along with farming, fishing and animal-husbandry. All Lunarians can understand Earthlings as the basis of their language derived from them, strangely, the Earthlings modified their speech to create a chasm of elitism against their brothers and - no matter what variety the Earthling spoke, they always understood the Lunarians.
Still, with the All-Seeing-Eye, a magical pool of viscous fluid, carefully nestled underground the Moon Palace, a The Watcher observes and judges what Earthlings lack.
The Watcher then reports to the All Father, The Moon King, through The Archives after which He shall send another batch of Messengers, armed with scrolls and tomes to educate or aid their rather short lived counterpart.
These visits were made possible by complex mantras, magic and machinery – and their mode of transport, Columna Lucis – located within the area of All-Seeing-Eye, aptly named because a Pillar of Light appears at the location they desired to stay at. The Earthlings, of course, were fascinated. Men from the farthest heavens descended that brought gifts and knowledge on how to manage and tend themselves, how to cultivate crops and build their own nation.
These periodical visits were long sought after by the Earthlings; they created patterns in crops and vast lands visible from the skies, gargantuan monuments that point skywards, immortalized on temple and castle walls – all in high hopes would entice the heavenly beings – they were enthralled by the stories of the Messengers about The Sanctum Sanctorum and was the basis of their perceived Utopia; the Lunarians were set in stone to make it infrequent, however, or lest be the Earthlings grow dependent. The Earthlings insisted to worship the Messengers as deities, to win favour and hopefully bring them along to their home.
Which was not uncommon, after all, the Messengers were not immune to the mysterious and powerful force of love. It was highly discouraged but not forbidden, they would bring along wives and husbands from Earth to live with them on the Moon – if they choose to live the rest of their longevity in loneliness in exchange for transient happiness.
Again, Earthlings live less than a hundred years, a span of time that means almost nothing to a Lunarian – whom most, by preference and culture, mate for life.
-x-
And this is where our story begins…
"You are allowing your son to gaze upon the All-Seeing-Eye, My Lord King?" the hooded entity mused, "He is but a boy, a young sapling of three centuries."
The wise King glanced at The Watcher and reserved his daunt, no matter how many times the King had seen The Watcher, quite the unnerving fellow. He was, or at least he sounded masculine, a hooded figure in a black robe with a golden sash festooned with the obscure symbols of the cosmos – and that would be the best way to describe him. If you examine him close enough, the inside of his cloak was a void where light cannot even pass.
The mid-section of The Watcher was made up of eyes of different colours, highly peculiar because Lunarians always have Azure irises. He also adorns the Minos horns sprouting from his head, though the King is uncertain if the horn is an ornament or actually sprouting from his head. He had four ghastly arms; the outer two which are perpetually at a right angle and always held the bright orbs Helios and Aega, which represented the light and dark; his inner arms are those one would normally use.
It was a sight to behold The Watcher drink tea, his rather delicate but just as ghastly inner arms intricately preparing tea, daintily holds the cup with his littlest finger raised and brings about the rim to his void and spills it inside. He also had two pair of grisly legs; the athropic inner ones was in a permanent lotus or crossed-leg position that peered out of his cloak and thus the outer pair was those, again, one would normally use. Another sight to behold was to catch The Watcher jog in place; "to keep myself fit" were his exact wording.
"You are aware of how relentless my son could be when he wills to," defended the King, "He absolutely insists that he simply must come along with me."
"I suppose not even his own Father is safe from the Prince's charms." The Watcher countered with a slightly delighted tone, "Oh, the many hearts that he will break."
"Hopefully, none."
"Very well, I shall expect the both of you in the afternoon, My Lord King."
"Oh, please. I shall have none of that, Watcher." The King declared despite of himself, "Address me as Theodor as I should be."
If The Watcher had a face, the King thought he would have smiled as for his many eyes may have squinted in glee, or so he would like to assume. Theodor had known The Watcher all his life, just as his fathers before him. Lunarians may have long lives, but they were just as mortals as the Earthlings.
The Watcher, as it would most likely seem, he concluded to be immortal.
"My Lord King, I am but a subject…" The Watcher replied as he knelt – his athropic forelegs getting in the way of his outer ones, "…sworn to loyally serve your direct lineage as long as you find me a purpose."
"And you have served very well," The good King smiled warmly and then slowly frowned, "Although I must warn you that my son is all too fascinated with Earth so kindly be patient with his inquiries."
"Of course, there is much to know," The Watcher hummed, then suddenly all of his eyes settled at the pit of All-Seeing-Eye, "Pardon me, My Lord King. Your brothers have been restless as of late."
"That must be one of his many undoing."
"I shall let you know once I have found that scoundrel."
With all the regal grace he was meticulously ingrained with, The All Father, stood proud and tall although his old heart shattered. The Earthlings have well indeed been very restless; their passion for glory, riches and conquest has consumed their hearts and are gradually purging their own kin.
It also did not help that The Damned was fuelling their fire. He bid farewell to his old friend and The Watcher uncharacteristically proffered an informal wave goodbye; knowing that he will call for a more detailed report later on. The cavern of the All-Seeing-Eye deep underneath the Moon Palace caught the slightest sounds of his steps and embellished them in a crescendo of echoes bouncing off the cold granite walls.
What was his son longing to see?
-x-
The Watcher contemplated as he carefully scrutinized the scene playing on the surface of the viscous pool, his many eyes never take a single wink and his stance unmoving, his own personal form of art after ages of mastery – complete stillness. The Earthlings from the different regions have begun their skirmish of blood, rape and violence. How dare they regress back to the uncouth barbarians the Lunarians have long withstanding inculcated them not to be?
The entity thought about the young Theodor and how more upset he is going to be after he files in the accounts of his observations at The Archives. The Watcher elicited a brief chuckle despite himself; Theodor abhorred being labelled as young as it made him feel blatantly fragile, unworthy and wet behind his ears.
Then again, The Moon King's entire living epoch could never tantamount against his aeons as The Watcher could easily name every patriarchal monarch that ever honoured The Moon Palace.
He mentally detached himself from grotesque scenario emanating the All-Seeing-Eye and allowed himself a moment of peace; reflective over The Moon King as a doting grandfather would. Time has definitely moulded the once rambunctious sapling into a sturdy man worthy of his birthright; his silver hair in a slick and dignified pompadour graced his once tufty head, his chiselled jawline and stubborn cleft chin was ensconced in carefully trimmed voluminous facial hair, his robust eyebrows seemed to be permanently furrowed, his bright Azure irises radiate from his critical almond-shaped eyes, his aquiline nose always held high due to his prominent regal posture. He was built like a bulk of a man battered and saturated in intense manual labour with broad shoulders and thick limbs although his strapping stance exuded authority and supercilious gait demanded respect.
The Prince definitely has a long way to go.
The Watcher, again, this time pondered about the current heir to the throne. He had his reservations, at first, regarding the willingness of the Prince to inherit the title and the responsibilities that came along with it; the tedious obligation take charge of your own kingdom and also uphold the interminable commitment to prevent the Earthling's impending decadence. It was not as if the Prince verbalized his reluctance, however, his actions proved slightly otherwise.
The Prince was just as rambunctious as his father during his salad days, perhaps even more. He always had this mischievous glint in his beautiful Cerulean eyes and had this boyish smirk that always gives away that he was up to no good. He was tall and lean, not to mention devilishly handsome; deep set eyes, wind-blown snow-white hair, his father's nose and stubborn chin without the cleft and thick beard; he also, of course harboured a much youthful face.
He was also a powerful Adept to the Cold; he could lower the temperature of the moisture or air and freeze everything around him, an ability he fully utilized for his pranks that he usually gets away from. He was confident, charming and charismatic; The Watcher is convinced that the sapling could get away with murder if he wanted to, if not already.
Don't be mistaken, the Prince is not incapacitated or indolent for he has had adventures of his own to test his mettle as a man that lasted half a century. He roamed the vast The Sanctum Sanctorum during this sabbatical and broadened his knowledge of magic, crystals and runes; his ability as a Winter Adept as well as understanding the living, breathing Kingdom he will take charge someday.
He mingled with his people to know how it is like to live and work as they do. He also faced the beasts of the North, East and West plains; visited ancient ruins to learn about the past and history of the earliest Lunarians, and mulled within himself on what it would take for him to be King. He came home as a hero and gave his bounties of conquest to the poorest.
In spite of his mischief, the Prince cherished a caring heart, as evidenced by his recurrent visits.
-x-
About that…
"Good morning, Watchy," said a deep, enthusiastic voice from behind, the damp walls echoing all around them, "How is she?"
The Watcher has not been completely honest with the King; his son has frequented the underground cavern of the All-Seeing-Eye many times in the past. That news shouldn't really surprise anyone with the Prince's notorious reputation and all. The Watcher is rather quite impressed that the sapling has not been caught, not once, granted that the grotto is restricted to any other living soul except the ruling monarch.
But the Prince is as cunning as he is impish, a resourceful rascal that The Watcher looks forward to see how different his regime would be. The Watcher swiftly changed the scenario of the All-Seeing-Eye to what the sapling was longing to see.
"Ah, Lord Prince Jackson, I did not hear you enter," he delightfully replied.
"Of course you didn't," the young man leered and waved, "If you did then that defeats the purpose of my secret passage way. And please, call me Jack."
"I suppose that is so, Lord Prince Jack," The Watcher chuckled a bit, "No matter how hard I try; I could never seem to find the entrance where you sneak in."
"And with my good fortune, you never will, Watchy. Just 'Jack' would do fine." Prince Jackson tatted, clasping his hands together, "Father agreed?"
"Yes, he did."
"Excellent!" he happily exclaimed, "So, as I was saying, how is she?"
Again, if The Watcher had a face instead of an empty void under his hood, he would have had a despondent mien. He had sworn to loyally serve the direct lineage and that includes the descendants, no matter how rebellious they might be…
...even if they are dooming themselves.
"She is as you last saw her, Lord Prince."
The young man approached the viscous pool, in three hundred years he still had the physicality of a young adult, though maybe the mentality of an adolescent. With a huge and genuine smile on his face, he peered in and gazed longingly at the image of a breathtakingly beautiful woman with long and braided platinum blonde hair, enchanting Sapphire cat-like eyes adorned with long lashes, an adorable button nose, smooth and fair skin lightly showered with freckles, full rose lips and a sultry slender figure that sat upright and listened attentively to the exceedingly boring scholar that lectured extremely dreary and dry political science.
Jackson took a deep breath as she answered the scholar's challenging question with ease; precise and concise, his chest swelled with pride and letting her voice penetrate his memory as if hearing it for the first time; her melodious tone rang in his ears and sent a fusillade of flutters in his heart.
The Watcher couldn't remember if he was ever human, being alive too long does tends to make you forget things; however, he is all too aware of what a man would look like when he is deeply and hopelessly in love.
Oh, no.
"That's my Elsa…", and the corners of the Prince's lips rose into a warm and wistful smile.
-x-
"Elsa if she were a girl? That is a beautiful name, my love," The very pregnant Queen of Arendelle mused while holding her husband's hand, "It means 'truth' and we will never have to hide."
The First Crown Princess Elsa of Arendelle was born to royal parents of rival Kingdoms; of what began as a clandestine tryst of their own romantic tragedy; upon the revelation of her pregnancy, the union was distastefully shunned by their immediate families but was warmly welcomed by the citizens – it was the new dawn of peace and prosperity – and in the end, their kin were forced to swallow their pride and toss their deeply rooted bitterness aside to accept their marriage or lest threaten a civil war among their subjects who were tired and weary of the scuffle and tussle they exchanged back and forth for an unrecorded number of decades.
That is until, The Damned, who perversely glorified himself in fear and chaos slipped unearthly poison into Her Majesty's evening tea. The severely ill Queen's royal family was about to declare treason and begin another bloody war armed with only the suspicion for the grief-stricken King.
The Watcher saw this with the aid of the All-Seeing-Eye quickly scampered and left the cavern for the first time to personally inform The Moon King about the meddling of The Damned instead of painstakingly communicating through The Archives.
"Hey, Watchy!" Prince Jackson called out as he slipped through his passage way, "I've been meaning to ask you about this crystal thing I picked up at the Centra ruins… I did check the old tomes first and it said something about 'Lunar Tear' and I know it heals everything but I just wanted to be sure. There's also the end part I can't translate. I even ripped the page out so you can read it," The Prince stared at the page in dread, "Father is going to murder me," The young Prince paused and scanned the cavern, "Watcheroo, where are you…?"
Though it wasn't his first visit here, the First Crown Prince Jackson of the Lunar Court was perplexed with the absence of The Watcher as he never leaves the All-Seeing-Eye and the Columna Lucis unattended.
Curious to what might have set off the faceless entity to flee, the young man apprehensively peeked at the playing scene; a very pregnant woman was losing her life and vigour by the second while her body was slowly being covered and consumed by Black Sand, which was apparently invisible to the sight of the Earthlings.
Black sand?
Traces of The Damned.
"They'll never make it in time," as the Prince drew his eyebrows together in determination.
Jack didn't waste any time to think second thoughts as he fluidly manoeuvred Columna Lucis he was taught years ago. The beam of light pierced through the ancient Three-Layered Dome and almost blinded the castle guards that garrisoned by the gates. He was a little bit disoriented and suddenly felt like he was apprehended. He was being roughly manhandled by the guards until an elderly scribe came running down the hallway and demanded them to release him.
"He is of the gods," the elder chastised and pushed the clueless guards off him, "Don't you see?"
"W-Where…?" Jack tried to keep himself from hurling.
"Have you come to save our Queen, oh glorious one?" as the elder tried to pull him up, albeit a little too fast.
Jack hurled.
The guards couldn't help but snicker at the sight but dared not prodded further and anger the usually prickly stuck-up scribe. It was rather peculiar to see such a pale young man with white hair. And they have indeed heard the stories of heavenly beings but scoffed them off now as myths and legends; after all, it has been such a long time since they last visited.
Could it be true?
Jack coughed like a dying man before steadying his hands on his knees, breathing heavily, trying desperately to regain his bearing. He was trying to remember what he came here for.
What was it again?
Oh, yes…
"T-Take me to the w-woman with the B-Black Sand…" he meekly said, still rather unsettled.
Oh, drat…
Earthlings can't see the Black Sand of The Damned.
Oh, Damn.
"Black Sand?" the elder inquired.
"Just take me to the sick woman!" Jack growled, "Hurry!"
The elder scribe led to the grand bedchamber while the guards assisted the foreigner. They were doubtful if the man was alive because he felt so cold. The guards weren't just sentries, they were seasoned warriors who have witnessed too many deaths from the last wars and they know all too well how fallen comrades - cadavers - feel like.
"Sire!" as the elder barged open the grand French doors.
The King of Arendelle stood bewildered, how dare they bring forth a drunken man? Have they no respect for his weak wife and dying first born? He's about to lose his sanity with all the grief and anger eating him from the inside out. The death threats and declaration of wars from his in-laws are almost insanely welcoming. The King's eyes narrowed as they entered and the guards gulped as they settled the young man on a chair.
The King was a formidable soldier himself and a brilliant tactician that earned their solid loyalty and respect, but was also known for his ruthlessness. Surely it was off to the gallows if all of these commotions were for naught. The Queen was unaware of everything that happened around her. She continued to breathe shallow and laboured, her grip on her husband's hand tightening.
"Gimme a sec," Jack said with his head down, his elbows rested on his knees and still breathed heavily, "Just give me a few moments to catch my breath. Whew."
The King glared at the guards and they whimpered, then his glower caught the eye of the scribe who stood significantly straighter and pointed at the stranger's hair.
Odd.
The King's eyes widen; could it be true?
"My apologies, Blessed One," the King sincerely said as he bowed his head.
"Gimme some water," Jack said as he finally looked up, still gasping, "Gimme me a glass of water quick!"
"You heard him!" The King commanded, "Give him some water!"
"Give him some water!" the elderly scribed parroted with a little more air of authority, earning him a series of hateful scorns from the guards as they quickly paced out of the room.
Jack looked at the poor woman, she was about to be fully consumed by the horrible Black Sand. He glanced at the King and immediately felt his fears.
This needed to end soon.
Or else.
The guards came back shortly with a glass of water which Jack instantaneously took, he reached out to his pocket and pulled out the 'Lunar Tear'. If his translation of ancient Lunarian Centra from the page of the tome he ripped off is correct it would have been…
The Lunar Tear is the pure and absolute crystallized magic energy of our Mother Moon.
It is very rare and often sought after by many healers for its healing properties are infinite and may be magnified if enhanced by an Adept.
It is considered the universal antidote by which cures all known Lunar and Earthly poisons and venoms.
Its antidote is very easy to prepare, just dilute in any clear solvent.
Caution: if consumed by a…
That is how far his translation got but honestly, that was all Jack needed. He embedded the crystal with his magic and gingerly placed it into the water where it rapidly dissolved; slowly the glass was covered with frost, his magic. He handed the glass towards the King, he nodded in understanding and graciously accepted. He gathered his wife into his arms and said,
"My love, I have something that would make you feel better."
The Queen's weary eyes wandered aimlessly as if trying to find the voice that spoke. She decided to trust what she could remember was her beloved husband's loving voice. She felt a rim push against her lips and by instinct drank the cool, sweet water that seem to revitalize her from the inside.
She finished the entire glass and did instantly feel better. She let out a contented sigh and as she was laid back down by her husband back to bed with an apparent look of relief on her face.
Jack saw the Black Sand slowly ebbing away from the Queen's petite body. The King had silent tears in his eyes as he tenderly kissed his beloved wife's forehead.
He was still rather disoriented from his hyper-speed traveling and was deliberately taking its toll on him. He had one last long look at the loving couple before slipping into the cold caress of oblivion.
-x-
Jack opened his eyes and was alarmed by his unfamiliar surroundings. He rubbed his temples to sooth the aching throb that seem to aspire to split his skull wide open. His blue coat with white trimmings and even darker blue trousers were gone and replaced by a simple dress shirt and black pants. He sat up and took note of his environment all the while flicking through fragmented memories, trying to figure out whereabouts was he.
He walked over to the grand French door with intricate floral designs.
"Must be a family crest," he mused, all too familiar with the significance of heritage and the symbols they pride themselves with, then suddenly everything clicked, "Oh yeah, I wonder how's the Queen?"
He opened the door slightly ajar and saw a battalion of maids running back and forth. He broke into an entertained smirk as he saw the guards from yesterday sprinting along with some of them.
Every so and so, a handful of young maids would glance at him and throw into a fit of giggles.
"Ah, you're awake! I did not think gods passed out yet here you are!"
Earthlings, as he would recall, has long regarded them as deities and there was no way to convince them otherwise. Jack rolled his eyes.
"How's the sick lady?"
"The Queen? She's just given birth!"
"That's great!"
"The King and Queen are expecting you. You are their most honoured guest and they would like you to bless their heir."
"Sure, I guess."
Jack followed the elderly scribe as he totted proudly along the hallway, they passed along the guards that helped him yesterday and they gave him a nod of acknowledgement but scowled at the sight of the pompous old man.
The scribe, again, led him to the most grandiose white French doors with intricate flower designs and this time, knocked and announced their presence. Once they were granted entrance, the King briskly walked up to him with wide open arms.
"My friend!" exclaimed the King, throwing all regal etiquette away for friendly familiarity and gave him a huge bear hug, "You have our eternal gratitude!"
"We never did get your name, Glorious One," the scribe huffed proudly and the King let him down.
"I am the First Crown Prince Jackson of the Lunar Court – err, that was weird introducing myself," he said and scratched the back of his head, "But you can call me, Jack."
"So, it is true that you are of the Blessed Ones?" the Queen said barely above a whisper.
"I suppose you can say I'm not from here" replied Jack as he shrugged.
"You came from the Pillar of Light!" said the scribe enthusiastically.
"It was horrible. I think I'm going to be sick again…" Jack moaned as his stomach lurched, he rested a calming hand over it.
Just then, a little cry was heard and the Lunar Prince brought his attention to the little bundle of soft pink flesh that nestled at her mother's arms.
Her pale blue eyes ogled at Jack as she cooed. Reaching out to him, he offered her his forefinger which she instinctively grasped. He noticed a tuft of platinum blonde hair and Jack looked curiously at her parents, his head swinging back and forth.
"As long as she is healthy and alive, I have no further qualms," the mother said quietly, responding to his worry, "Say hello, my darling Elsa."
As if on cue, the forefinger Jack offered to the little baby was covered by frost. He was certain that did not come from his own magical core, so that could only mean…
Oh, no.
I lied.
This is where our story truly begins…
-x-
I had fun writing this and I hope you had fun reading it. Whew, 5000+ words in just one chapter.
Stay tuned for more!
(I'll try.)
Oh, I'll be going on a trip this month with my friends (Google Puerto Prinsesa and its underground river!) so I might not update any time soon but I'll still love you for your reviews! I really need them. Let me know if I'm doing this right.
I wanted to do something to what the author of Harry Potter & The Fifth Element, bexis1, has accomplished. It was basically a montage of pop culture and fandoms jammed packed into an explosion references. Its beautiful and complex story and you should read it whether you ship H&Hr or not.
Final Fantasy IV - I saw the parallel with Jack Frost and Cecil Harvey, as well as Rosa Joanna Farrell and Queen Elsa. The white-haired moon dude and the royal blonde. As well as Theodor, the English name of Cecil and Rosa's son Ceodore (who was named after his uncle Theodor AKA Golbez) in game's sequel Final Fantasy IV: The After Years.
Final Fantasy VIII - for the Centra Ruins. I think I'll be referencing locations with a lot of Final Fantasy. Because I love Final Fantasy. Final Fantasy nuff' said.
The Ancient Alien theory (I'm a huge sci-buff) - I just love this take on the super natural deities with religion.
Tangled- The King watching over his ill wife and making her drink a magic... um, drink.
Harry Potter - "Up to no good."
Scooby-Doo- Watcheroo, where are you?
The Watcher - was patterned after a Dementor (Harry Potter) and Vivi Ornitier (Final Fantasy IX) and I made him lovable. Wasn't he just lovable?