#I enjoy how fairly peaceful our fandom is right now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

Favorite Human

Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: McCall!Pack x reader (platonic) Word count: 2.8k Summary: It’s Malia who first smells it - the bitter scent that had started to Infiltrate yours - and she, Lyida and Kira decide to find out what was wrong with you... Warning: Nothing too much really, but it’s slightly Angsty I guess. Also the feels Requested by the amazing, patient and great anon: Hi~,Teen Wolf person again. Can i request a pack image where the reader is hiding something for the pack and the pack are all sort of catching on to it like chemosignals and behaviour. Eventually they kinda piece the bits together and figure it out. they all try to comfort you and help you get better. Something just along those lines.(They could be hiding selfharm stuff, family stuff or they like someone in the group or yeah, you can pick what your comfort writing for) Thank you have a nice day~

The California sun was beating down on Beacon Hills and its inhabitants, a feeling of peace and calm that was - by now - almost foreign in the city laid in the air and prompted the resident teenagers and young adults to enjoy a day away from school, stress and (for a very special group) life threatening situations. This particular group - the McCall pack, as they were known in the supernatural community of the city - decided to spend their free time on a very nice, but fairly unknown clearing in the beacon hill woods and for once being surrounded by these trees didn’t give them the vibe that one of them could probably die at any given moment. It was a rather nice change. “Uno,” Liam smiled as he slapped a +4 card onto the floor, making Mason groan and throw his head back. It was the third time in a row that Liam was winning and while it seemed to leave you completely cold it annoyed Mason to no end, but he couldn’t stop playing either until either you or him finally beat the wolf. While the three of you were sitting in your game circle, Malia, Lydia and Kira were lounging on a picnic blanket enjoying the sun and having their conversation. The only one who was sitting on the grass like a lost puppy was Stiles, phone in hand but seemingly not having the attention span to focus on it for more than five consecutive seconds. Originally he and Scott had been sitting there together talking about Lacrosse or girls or whatever the two of them talked about when they weren’t planning to save the city, but Scott had - after lots of pleading and begging on his betas part - disappeared into the direction of the city to buy some ice cream for everyone. “Y/N?” Liam shocked your shoulder and you had to shake your head to come back into reality and out of your thoughts. “Yes?” you looked at him with wide doe-eyes full of confusion. “It’s your turn.” “Oh, right, sorry, just lost in thoughts,” you smiled apologetically and shrugged before turning to your cards to think about your next move, not noticing how Liam and Mason exchanged a look. They had started to notice the change in your behaviour only recently. Your usual very cheery, always-seeing-the-best-in-everyone-and-everything self started to be stuck in your thoughts more often and your smile seemed just a little bit off lately. “Here you go,” you looked up again and put a +2 in front of Liam earning a quiet ‘Yessss’ from Mason at the prospect of finally beating his best friend, only to be sorely disappointed when a smirk immediately filled Liam’s face as he victoriously added his own - last - +2 card onto the pile, effectively winning the game and starting a rather useless discussion about whether the fact that the makers of Uno stated that putting a +2 on another +2 and making it a +4 wasn’t allowed counted anything. While Mason and Liam kept on blickering you pulled yourself up from the grass-floor and wandered over to the girls who welcomed you with kind smiles and made space for you on the blanket. As you sank down you were immediately pulled into Malias lap who hugged you into her and pressed her nose into your neck and y/h/l hair to smell you - a habit of hers that you had at first found more than disturbing but by now had gotten used to. In fact, the more time you spent with your not-quite-human friends and acquaintances, the more you noticed that they all had their own little versions of that, even though with Malia it was the most extreme since she was still the one running mostly on her basic instincts. At least that’s how Stiles explained it to you. He said that since you were logically seen the most vulnerable and ‘weak’ member of the pack their natural instincts where to protect and shield you from all dangers and make sure you are alright and - after your initial reaction of punching the hell out of Stiles’ shoulder in order to show him just how not-weak you were - you started registering it more and more. It was mostly very little things with Scott, Liam, Derek and in some situations (even though rarely) Peter like little hugs and giving you their clothes to scent you, pushing themselves in front of you in the face of even the most harmless of situations or the way they just sometimes randomly turned up at your house (this was mostly Scott, Liam and Malia though) to check if you’re okay even if they could just call. With Malia it was all that, but times ten in intensitivity. And the smelling. Malia herself wasn’t quite sure why, but she simply loved your natural scent. It always managed to calm her down. So you got used to her randomly smelling at you even if it did weird you out from time to time. Usually she would pull back after a few seconds, give you a happy smile and get back to what she was doing before like nothing happened, but this time when she drew back she looked at you displeased and confused. “Is something the matter?” you asked just as confused and now the other girls, who had gotten used to Malias antics and taken on the habit of just completely ignoring it in order not to get growled at, got curious as well and turned their attention towards you. “Something’s off,” Malia grumbled and scrunched her nose like she’s smelt something rotten. “Oi!” you scoffed and moved back a little, feign being offended, “Are you telling me I stink?” “No,” Malia sighed and rolled her eyes, “It’s not that, it’s just...your scent is- I don’t know how to put it really. Bitter? I think?” “What does that mean?” Lydia asked, her interest now seemingly spiked. “‘M not sure,” Malia shrugged and moved forward to take another good sniff at your hair, only for you to move your head back out of her reach and put your hands on her shoulders to keep her a distance away from you. “I think that’s quite enough,” you chuckled, but it sounded mechanical almost, “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t really think me smelling bitter means anything.” Noticing the way you held yourself defensive, something that you almost never did, all three of the girls wanted to investigate further, but you quickly moved off of Malia’s lap and stood up. “Oh look, there’s our ice cream,” you smiled as if nothing was happening and jogged over to your Alpha to help him. “This was weird, right? She’s acting weird, isn’t she?” Kira questioned and looked between the other two girls who nodded, “What’s that about?” “Not sure, but we gotta find out before the boys notice anything. Malia is bad enough already, but if the male wolfies find out we’ll have a real problem on our hands,” Lydia sighed and inspected you from afar.

After then the three of them noticed it far more often, the way you held yourself changed and your smile seemed to lessen by the day. By the time you started to fold into yourself and Malia said that your smell was getting more bitter, to the extent that she could smell it above almost everything else surrounding you, they knew that it had gotten out of their hands. They had to involve the others as much as they dreaded their reactions. As they had predicted Scott, Liam and - surprisingly enough for a human - Stiles didn’t react kindly to it, immediately planning to confront you. But in a turn of events, their thirst for actions and the girls rational thinking evened each other out and they decided on an approach that was reluctant enough to not scare you away, while also - hopefully - pushing you to tell them what was wrong. They wanted to do it in an environment that you felt comfortable in so they decided to go to your place, but that meant that they couldn’t all come, since they didn’t want to overwhelm you either. So, after a long and exhausting discussion, they decided that Stiles would be the one who’d go in first to make sure everything was clear and then give the others a heads up to follow. The Pack was standing - as inconspicuous as it was possible for a group of five - on the other side of the street your house was in as Stiles was walking down your driveway, welcomed by a cute door plate that had obviously been made my a little child and he was pretty safe in his assumption that you had been the one who had made it when you were younger. After taking a breath of reassurance Stiles raised his hand and knocked on the door. You must have been near the door already, because not even ten second later the door was tipped open and you stared at him with tired eyes, in your alien Pajamas with messy hair. If Stiles had not known better he would have assumed you had tried to sleep. “Who is it Honey?” He heard the voice of your mother scream, but the usual sweet voice he was used to hearing from her was strained and mixed with annoyance. “Uhm...It’s Stiles! My friend from school, he was here last month to study for my english exam, you remember?” “Oh, yes,” your mother walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway, “Hello Stiles.” Stiles returned the greeting, but his thoughts were more occupied by the state of your mother. Her hair looked unwashed and even more messy than yours, obviously not because of sleep, but rather because she hadn’t brushed it in a while, there were red stains under her eyes, the skin around it dry and strained, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she must have cried - a lot - and her blouse was wrinkled, which he knew from their previous meetings and what you had told him about her would usually be a no-go for her. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” she smiled, but it was tight-lipped and obviously forced, but before she disappeared into the kitchen again she looked at you, “Y/N, make it fast please.” You just nodded and turned back to Stiles. “Hey,” he said again, a little bit uncertain now, the situation having thrown him off of the plan he had made in his head on the way from the pack to the door. “Hi,” you said and he had to admit that you were definitely your mothers daughter by the way your forced smile perfectly resembled hers. “I wanted to talk to you, uhm, we - I mean me and the pack by that, well it started with Lydia, Malia and Kira, but anyways - we noticed that you’ve been...how do I put this correctly- well, I guess you’ve been off more lately and so we’ve been worried, because usually you smile a lot and you always make unfunny jokes and all that and now you don’t so-” Stiles rambled and just let everything flow out at once, probably would have continued to do so if you hadn’t held up your hand to stop him. “Not-Not here, okay? I’ll answer your questions, but not here. Let’s take this outside, please,” you shut Stiles up and took his arm to lead him out of your house and onto your porch where you sat down on the stairs leading onto your front law. For a while there was silence as Stiles found himself unsure of what to do next, but he could basically feel the piercing stares of his friends on him. After a few seconds of contemplating he sat down beside you, while still keeping a little bit of distance - just to make sure he wasn’t too overwhelming. “So…” “Yeah, so…” “Why...have you been so off?” Stiles asked but honestly couldn’t help but cringe a bit at how completely un-smooth he sounded. “I- It’s-” you tried multiple approaches, but stopped yourself every time, only to sink your face into your hands and sigh, “I’m sorry.” You raised your face again and looked at Stiles and he could see the sadness, this slight sense of despair. “Hey, it’s okay, don’t rush yourself,” Stiles tried to comfort you, “If you can’t tell me that’s okay, we’re just all very worried about you. We want to make sure that you’re okay.” “No, it’s fine, I- I think I actually wanted to tell you all for a while, but- I don’t really know, it’s just been hard for me… My parent’s have been going through some rough patches for the last few months and now my dad - he,” you stopped again and hugged your arms around you, Stiles couldn’t help but notice the glistening of tears in your eyes, “-He moved out two weeks ago. I mean, sure there were signs, it wasn’t working well by all means, but moving out? That was pretty shocking for my mom and me.” By now the tears had started rolling down your face and Stiles couldn’t hold back anymore. He moved closer to you and laid his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. It seemed that the pack couldn’t hold back anymore either, because only a few seconds either Lydia was kneeling in front of you holding your hands, the rest also finding positions around you - hoping to give you as much comfort as possible. You gave them a wet chuckle, even though your tears didn’t stop flowing. “I could’ve guessed that you’re not far. I’m sorry for being a mess.” “No, Don’t ever be sorry for feeling. We love you and that means that we’ll be there for you through the bad times just as we are in the good times,” Scott assured you and lovingly petted your head even though he knew that you always complained about how it made you feel like a little child or a puppy. “Thank you guys for being here - it’s just a lot right now. My mom is expecting me to be on her side, while my dad keeps expecting me to decide about where I’m going to live now. He wants me to move with him to New York into the city he grew up in, but I don't want to leave Beacon Hills. I have my whole life here, my school, you guys, my mom, literally everything, but I also don’t want to lose him- It’s just, I feel so torn and it seems like every choice I could take would be the wrong one,” you were full on sobbing at that point, but it was clear enough for your friends to understand you. “Hey, It’s okay,” Lydia tried to calm you down, “I know that this seems like an impossible choice, but I can assure you we will find a way. We’ve defeated some of the greatest evils that the world has seen and we were successful. We’ll be just as successful with this, okay?” You started nodding and for the first time in a while you were actually feeling just a little bit like yourself again, a sliver of home filling your heart at all your friends who were by your side and supporting you. “Lydia’s right,” Scott agreed. “There’s one thing I gotta ask though,” Liam started and before anyone else with a little more sense of sensibility could stop him asked: “Why didn’t you tell us before? I mean we’re you’re best friends ri-” At that moment Mason basically threw himself at him and put his hand in front of his mouth to shut him up. “You don’t have to answer that,” Kira assured you, but you just shook your head. “No, it’s fine, I get why he asked. I- I guess I just thought - it’s like Lydia said, we fight evil on a weekly base, we have to worry about so much more serious things than my stupid family drama.” “Now listen to me,” Lydia spoke up in her I-will-take-no-talkbacks-voice and looked at your sternly, “This is not stupid and it is by no means less imporant than anything else we do, okay? Maybe it’s not life-threatening or supernatural, but it is still hurting you and as friends we can’t let anything hurt our favorite human, can we now?” And in that moment everything was okay again - if only for just a few seconds - with your friends by your side and Stiles yelp of protest, because he insisted that he was at least Scott’s favorite human, - earning himself a look from Scott that told him that what Lydia said also applied to him - even made you laugh your normal laugh again. And so, when Malia finally got close enough to you with all your friends surrounding you to smell your scent, she found that your normal, sweet scent was finally returning again, and even though there was still a bitter undertone to it she now was sure that it would soon be back to her favorite scent again.

393 notes · View notes

geekgirles · 3 years ago

Text

Full Disclosure

“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”

In which Sam and Valerie clear the air between them.

Word count: 5176

READ ON AO3

Before we go in, I just wanted to say that I hope I did the characters justice. Really, it’s all I ask because I’m still fairly recent in the fandom (as in, actively participating rather than fangirling on my own) and I’d hate to make a travesty of characters that mean so much to me. Oh, and this one-shot can take place in whatever timeline you want: you hate PP with a passion? Don’t worry, it didn’t happen. You actually think it’s a good finale? That works too. There shouldn’t be anything that indicates this story takes place in anywhere in particular other than Amity Park, so... All you need to know is that Valerie knows.

Please, enjoy!!

As an intense throb manifested itself in her right side, eliciting an involuntary groan to escape her throat, Sam was more frustrated at herself than aching from the hit. It had been two years already since Danny had the accident that gave him his powers, consequently beginning the constant battles against ghosts that made their teenaged life significantly harder, and, as they came to appreciate their lifestyle, significantly more interesting, too. Once Danny gained his ghost powers, she and Tucker took it to themselves to make sure their friend was always supported and aided when fighting his ghostly adversaries.

And with that came the injuries.

They certainly didn’t get hurt as often or as gravely as Danny, since he was usually the one facing the mischievous spirits head-on, but they still had to get used to their own fair share of beatings. The teachers were understandably surprised when they effortlessly completed their first aid training in Health class.

All in all, Sam was used to getting hurt.

Which made the fact that Valerie had landed such a perfect kick that it literally left her breathless all the more humiliating.

Valerie Gray, a.k.a. the Red Huntress. Danny Phantom’s longtime pursuer and Danny Fenton’s one time girlfriend. The once popular girl was now their trustworthy ally. And, as much as Sam hated to admit it, she was thoroughly kicking her butt. Perhaps she should have expected as much from a ninth degree black belt.

“Had enough, Manson?” Valerie taunted with a raised eyebrow.

Getting up slowly, Sam sent her a smirk alongside a challenging, determined look. “Never.” And with that she leaped on the ghost huntress, using her momentum to connect a punch to her face. But Valerie was faster, blocking the Goth girl’s attack with her forearm before sliding her leg under Sam’s to make her lose her balance. Seeing what her opponent was up to, the violet-eyed girl quickly got out of her way, widening the space between the two to give herself some time to think up a new strategy.

Smirking at Sam’s maneuver, Valerie appraised her with pride. “Not bad, Sam,” she said before changing her stance, ready to pounce, “but the extra space won’t save you from this.” Leaping into the air, the Red Huntress didn’t waste a moment to knock Sam to the floor with a roundhouse kick boosted by her movements.

Even if the Goth blocked the attack by keeping her palms up in front of her face, the sheer force behind it was still enough to knock her down. That was gonna bruise in the morning, she was sure of it. Glancing up she noticed Valerie looking down at her with a smug look on her face and her hands on her hips. Sam barely resisted the urge to scowl darkly at her. Panting, she conceded, “Alright, alright. Maybe now I’ve had enough.”

Chuckling at Sam’s proud nature, the green-eyed girl bent down slightly to offer her friend a hand and lift her up from the floor. Once Sam was at her eye-level, she looked down on her watch, now serving as a chronometre. “Five minutes. That’s a full round! Congratulations, Sam. So far, you’re the one who’s lasted the most against me.” She applauded her, but her face betrayed her. She was about to burst out laughing.

Snorting, the Goth girl elbowed her slightly on the arm. “Knock it off! Even if I lost, I still managed to land a few hits myself.”

“Yeah...Trust me, you don’t have to remind me.” Valerie complained with a pointed look as she rubbed her lower back. Early on in the match, Sam kneed her there. Thank goodness she wasn’t tasked with unloading the Nasty Burger’s products that week. “I’m serious, though. Danny without his powers lasts a minute and a half, tops. And Tucker...well, let’s just say that taking one hit without passing out is already a victory when it comes to him.”

“Yeah, he and Danny really should do more exercise.” The two girls laughed at that. These past two years Danny’s skill when using his powers had skyrocketed. Enemies that used to give him a hard time were now more of a headache. He didn’t even have to pay attention to the fight to get rid of the Ghost Box. Now, as Danny Fenton… He’d gotten taller, that was for sure. But he still had the nasty habit of relying on his powers a little too much, which didn’t do his P.E marks any favours. And Tucker was still far more interested in whatever his PDA had to offer than the wonders of physical exercise.

In truth, everyone had changed during that time, if only a little.

Sam was still as Goth and ultra-recyclo-vegetarian as always. Her raven hair was slightly longer, now reaching her shoulders, but she still wore it mostly loose and framing her face, except for the one strand she kept in a high ponytail. Her fashion sense hadn’t changed much either. She wore a black crop top with Danny’s logo on it instead of the old purple ovalーthe town began selling merchandise of its hero to attract, and basically rob, tourists. Since she created the logo herself, she made her own outfits and nobody was none the wiser. She also stuck with plaid skirts, but this time she favoured a purple and black one instead of her old black and green. But her combat boots, accessories, and make-up were sacred. Everybody knew impending doom was near if Sam ever changed even the tiniest detail in her appearance when it came to that.

She was still outspoken and an avid defender of animal rights, individuality, and most importantly, of Danny Phantom. Even though most people celebrated the boy and thanked him for his services, there were still some who criticised him and believed Amity Park was better off before him. Needless to say, Sam was always at the front of the line in any protest to defend Amity Park’s greatest protector. The fact that he was not only one of her best friends but also her boyfriend may have something to do with it. But even if they weren’t together, Sam knew Danny. She’d always known him. She would always defend him from those who couldn’t even begin to grasp just how noble, responsible, and compassionate he was.

The corners of her mouth curled up slightly when she remembered she’d just been sparring with what once was one of Danny Phantom’s greatest detractors.

In a way, Valerie had probably changed the most out of everyone she knew while simultaneously not changing anything at all.

In terms of appearance, just like Sam, she’d only modified her look slightly. She cut her long, dark brown curls so they now barely reached her shoulders instead of cascading down her back. According to her, long hair just got in the way with her suit. She originally wanted to get an undercut, but her dad almost had a cow so they compromised with short hair for now and leaving the undercut for when she was a little older. The huntress still favoured spaghetti-strapped yellow t-shirts, but now she completed her outfit with dark blue jeans or shorts (depending on the temperature) and white sneakers. She also dropped the headband due to her hair, but she kept the earrings.

The most obvious change, though, was that she was now an ally rather than an enemy after Danny Phantom’s head. Sam feared for the worst when Valerie found out her ex boyfriend was the very same ghost she’d vowed to destroy (could she really say she and Danny were exes, though? Sure, they went on a few dates and they genuinely liked each other, but Valerie pseudo-broke up with him right when he was about to ask her to make things official... Ugh, the wonders of the teenaged heart... Always bound to give her a headache. This is why she preferred her Goth indifference...most of the time). As much as they wanted to trust Valerie was going to be sensible about it, her track record wasn’t the best, forcing them to keep an eye out in case she decided to send her more positive opinion of Danny Fenton to Hell and shoot him with her ecto-bazooka.

Thankfully, one day Valerie just sat down with them at lunch, and when Danny tentatively asked her if they were okay, she just smiled and said, “We’re okay.” So they ate lunch in peace...until the Lunch Lady showed up and they had to send her back to the Ghost Zone. At least that time the Red Huntress was there to help them out. Ever since then, the girl sometimes fought alongside them, but for the most part she did her own thing.

And that was something about Valerie that hadn’t changed; her hatred of ghosts. Valerie was still hellbent on getting rid of all the spirits that haunted Amity Park, with half-ghosts being the sole exception ーexcept for Vlad, Valerie held a huge grudge against him for having used her as his pawn; not like the team could complain, they all hated Vlad, after all. And that made her ruthless, determined, brutal… More than once Danny had tried talking her out of her grudge against the paranormal, explaining to her that, albeit not as numerous as the troublemaking ghosts, there were still some that just wanted to be left alone. But Valerie would not budge. She believed all ghosts lacked the humanity and self-control necessary to resist whatever crazy obsession that tied them to our world and would eventually attack.

To Valerie, ghosts were ticking bombs.

Seeing as, so far, most ghosts they faced were malicious or seriously causing trouble, Tucker suggested they just let her be, but the moment she actually targeted an innocent ghost (say, Wulf), then they would have to get serious with her.

All in all, Valerie was their friend. A friend who had agreed to help her train so Danny wouldn’t have to worry so much about her safety when they were out fighting spectres. Not like he really needed to worry, she could take care of herself, but the more prepared they were, the better. And Valerie was helping her with that, and yet, the air still hadn’t been completely cleared between them.

As much as Sam would’ve loved cutting to the chase, a part of her still wasn’t prepared to address the elephant in the room. “Not gonna lie, Valerie, I wiー” she stopped mid-sentence. The last thing they needed was to have Desirée roaming free around Amity Park just because she hadn’t been careful with her words. Clearing her throat, she went on. “I mean, I would do anything for your fighting skills. You must have every ghost shaking in their boots...or whatever they have to shake in.”

As Sam sat down on the floor of her family’s private gym, which Valerie still couldn’t get used to being in, the green-eyed girl made her way to the other side of the room far away from the training tatami, where a middle-sized fridge was located. Pulling the door open, she grabbed two water bottles before going back to Sam. “Yeah, what can I say? I am pretty awesome.”

“And don’t forget modest.” Sam replied sarcastically.

“Girl, when you’re as good as me, you don’t need to pretend to be modest.” She joked as she handed Sam her own water bottle, which she accepted gratefully, before sitting down on the floor next to her. “Believe it or not, though, I became a ninth degree black belt long before I started hunting ghosts.” She looked at the floor, a pensive look on her face, “...we couldn’t have afforded the classes otherwise.”

Sam did her best to suppress the urge to do a spit-take at her words. Valerie almost never brought her financial situation up. The most she used to do was remember Danny why she hated him back when she still was after him, but the topic was dropped altogether once the secret was out. Looking around her ridiculously lavish house, Sam felt like facepalming herself. How could she have been so insensitive as to remind Valerie of the life she lost?!

“Valerie...I-I’m sorry. I should’ve told you to meet up at the park to train, but I…”

“Sam, don’t.” The huntress cut her off with a stern tone. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“But it was insensitive of me toー” Again, she was interrupted by Valerie, who silenced her by raising her palm up in front of her.

“Please, let me talk. You don’t have to apologise for anything because you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll admit, it’s a bit paradoxical finding out that while I was mourning my losses you’d been hiding the fact that you’re stinking rich all along. But I’m not offended by it. Actually, I think I understand.”

“You do?” The Goth girl asked in disbelief, her eyes wide open.

The African-American girl just shrugged. “I think so. I didn’t realise it until my so-called friends kicked me out of the group, but having money attracts a lot of fakes and shallow people. People who’ll only be there when it’s convenient for them and who’ll throw you away like a used tissue the moment you have nothing else to offer. I know that better than anyone…” When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Sam smiling kindly at her, doing her best to get out of her comfort zone and offer her some comfort. She returned the smile. “Bottom line: you want real friends, so you never talk about your money ‘cause you don’t want to attract the wrong people. I get it.”

“You really do.”

“And I guess I’m also flattered.”

Sam blinked slowly at her. “Wow, Valerie. It usually takes a lot to take me by surpriseーwith the ghost fighting and allーand yet, here we are!”

The huntress just chuckled softly in response. “What I mean is that I understand that it takes you a lot to let people inーand quite literally tooーbut you still invited me. That means you must trust me, if only a bit.”

Sam couldn’t help but blush at her earnest words. It was true, wasn’t it? She trusted Valerie. She would have never invited her to her house if she didn’t. And, now that she thought about it, Valerie had to trust her too if she was willing to show her vulnerable side to her. Somehow, the thought made her smile. Knowing she would have to bring up uncomfortable topics soon, the violet-eyed girl decided to alleviate some of the tension first. “Well, I’m glad you could at least get your black belt first! Otherwise we would be in for a major asskicking from some ghosts.”

That comment actually made Valerie laugh. “Oh, hush, you flatterer! Or I’ll tell Danny his girlfriend has been hitting on me.” She could only snort when Sam gasped in fake shock. “Seriously, though. I personally would love to be as genre savvy as you are. I mean, you always know what to do or have some obscure knowledge about whatever we’re facing. From the Fright Knight’s legend to how to train your dragon ghost.”

Sam merely shrugged with a lazy grin on her face, “What can I say? Obscure knowledge sort of comes with being a Goth.”

The two girls started snickering after that. As their laughter died down, Valerie noticed Sam’s smile fading from the corner of her eye, concerning her. “Sam? Is everything okay?”

“Valerie...I’m sorry.”

That took her by surprise. After a few seconds of shock, the Red Huntress rolled her eyes good-naturedly before gently nudging her friend with her shoulder. “C’mon, Sam. I told you already. You don’t have to feel sorry for inviting meー.”

This time it was Sam who cut her off. She shook her head. “No. No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”

One would think that a semi-professional ghost huntress would have seen it all, and honestly, so did Valerie, but she was genuinely shocked at Sam’s apology. The shock didn't last long, though. “Are you seriously apologising for that? Sam, that was two years ago!”

Of all the things she could be apologising for...She just had to pick that one, didn’t she?

Sam groaned, frustrated and clenching her gym shorts with her hands. “I know it’s been two years, but that doesn’t change that I wasn’t the most pleasant person in the world to you for reasons that weren’t...completely pure.”

“So what?” Valerie insisted. “Neither was I for the longest time! You and Tucker were right when you called me out during Pariah Dark’s attack; how could I expect to be treated like one of the group when I used to be such a brat to you? You still eventually forgave me.” She pointed out.

“You don’t understand…” Sam whined as she rubbed her face with her hands. “While it’s true that part of my animosity towards you came from how you used to treat us, and another good chunk came from your eagerness to vaporise one of my best friends,” the Red Huntress actually had the decency to blush embarrassedly at that, “I really, really disliked you because I was...well, I was jealous. Plain and simple.”

There. She’d said it. After years gritting her teeth and burning with envy whenever Danny and Tucker (mostly because of Danny, obviously) drooled over Paulina or any other pretty girl, she had finally admitted she was mostly jealous instead of simply not understanding what the fuss was about. Hanging out with girls more often, namely Valerie and Jazz, instead of only spending her time with the guys had really helped broaden her horizons. Especially when it came to her opinion on other girls. She was proud to say she was finally moving on from her “not like other girls” phase.

Even if Danny’s crush on Paulina had driven her nuts more than once, it was his budding romance with Valerie that truly pushed all her buttons and caused her deepest insecurities to rear their ugly head. Even if dating her was dangerous, Danny still wanted to be with her! He was willing to throw caution to the wind if it meant they could be a couple. And he was so protective of her when Technus attacked… As much as Sam hated to admit it, as much as she wished (to Hell with Desirée) she could ignore it all and just focus on protecting Danny from being hunted by his new girlfriend, that hurt.

That hurt a lot.

Albeit annoying, Danny’s crush on Paulina was safe. Paulina only liked Danny Phantom. Danny couldn’t really get closer to her as his alter-ego without putting her in danger, and Danny would never put an innocent person in danger. And just like that, Paulina became unattainable. But Valerie…

Valerie liked Danny Fenton. She and Danny often just wanted to have a normal life, away from ghosts and burdens that no 14-year-old kid should shoulder. Even if the Red Huntress wanted to kill Danny Phantom, Valerie genuinely liked Danny Fenton. Despite the danger, she was closer than Paulina. And despite their close bond, she was closer to Danny than Sam herself. Because Valerie wasn’t afraid to admit her feelings, unlike her.

In fact, hadn’t Valerie put her job before her love life, Sam knew without an ounce of a doubt that she and Danny would still be together. Because she had been too afraid to tell Danny how much he meant to her sooner.

Yes, she had been jealous of Valerie.

She had been jealous of the attention she received from Danny. She had been jealous of the fact that they went out on several dates and nothing could embarrass them or ruin their little moment. She was jealous because it would’ve meant things would change.

But most importantly, she was jealous of Valerie’s guts.

And she finally confessed it.

...which made what Valerie said next all the more jaw-dropping.

“Yeah, I know.”

Her jaw hanging low and eyes as wide as saucers, Sam slowly turned her head to look the huntress dead in the eye. “You know?” She asked, completely flabbergasted.

Valerie snorted. She actually snorted at her question! And while Sam was looking at her with the most comically astonished expression on the face of the planet, Valerie just regarded her with a coy smile. “No offence, Sam, but it was kinda hard to miss. I think only Danny wasn’t aware of it.”

Sam had nothing to say in response to that.

“Besides, didn’t I tell you before I even started going out with Danny? When you like someone, if you don’t make a move, somebody else will. What did you think I was referring to other than your feelings, chess?”

“That...is true.” The Goth admitted quietly.

Seeing her usually outspoken friend acting so despondent all of a sudden didn’t sit well with the green-eyed teenager. She sighed, “Look, Sam. I understand that you were...difficult because you were jealous. I can’t deny I once or twice acted petty towards you because I was jealous, myself. But even if I hadn’t decided to just stay friends with Danny, I don’t think we would’ve worked out in the end.”

Not for the first time that day, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last time either, Valerie had taken her completely aback. Furrowing her brow in confusion, Sam insisted, “What are you talking about? You two are the best ghost hunters in Amity Park, you guys would have been the ultimate power couple!”

Leaning back on her elbows, the Red Huntress sent the Goth a smirk, “Ah, but you’re forgetting I would’ve had to know Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same first. And I…”, for the first time since their sparring lesson began, Valerie found herself hesitating, “I don’t know how I would’ve taken that.

“Sure, I really, really liked Danny, but I had spent far longer hating his ghost half. Ever since the Cujo-related incidents I blamed him for the turn my life had taken. And even when I was growing fond of Danny Fenton, his actions as Danny Phantom still drove me nuts! I mean, he literally unmasked me right before my dad! He forbade me from ghost hunting until I got that upgrade in my suit. Could I really put all that aside in favour of having a relationship with him?

“That’s why it took me so long to face you guys once I learned the truth; I was trying to make peace with it all. I figured I could learn to forgive Danny, maybe even trust him with my life...but never with my heart again. There were too many imbalances between us for me to be comfortable in a relationship with him...and you guys are honestly better together anyways.” She winked at the ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.

“You really think so?” Sam could feel the heat making its way to her cheeks the moment Valerie nodded at her question. “I-I mean!”, ugh, how she hated stuttering!, “Danny’s always been super important to me...obviously! And we’ve always done our best to be there for each other and have each other’s backs, but there are times when I can’t help but wonder if perhaps we’re just making a mistake and we were better off as friends…” She finished with a defeated sigh.

At the sensation of an arm wrapped around her shoulders, she turned to look at Valerie. “Sam, trust me. This is no mistake. You’re one of the very few people who understand there’s no difference between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom; they’re both Danny and you’ve always known that and done your best to show him just that. And unlike Paulina or me, even if you hadn’t known his secret from the beginning, I’m willing to bet my right arm that you would’ve accepted both sides of him equally either way.”

At her words, Sam could only smile warmly, “You really think so?”

Valerie returned her smile. “I know so.”

Still replaying Valerie’s words and organising her own thoughts in her head, Sam turned to face her, one hand resting on her lap and the other on Valerie’s shoulder, “For what it’s worth, I still think that after a, very understandable, initial bump in your relationship, you two could’ve made a great couple too. I meant what I said when I told you that, if Danny liked you, then we would only have to make room for you at our table. I can’t think of any girl I would be willing to do that for but you, Val.”

Valerie almost gasped at Sam’s words, but she recovered rather quickly, “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot coming from you.” Resting her own hand on top of the one on her shoulder, she winked mischievously at her, “And don’t worry; I don’t go around stealing my friends’ boyfriends.”

The Goth girl snorted at that. “Glad to hear that.”

They remained like that for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence that had settled between them and their secret understanding. They were friends. They had similarities and differences. But that would never change the respect each felt for the other.

Finally, getting up from the floor and dusting herself off, Valerie broke the silence, “Come on, there’s still many moves I haven’t used to kick your butt.”

Sam smirked at the challenge, “Oh, you’re so on!”

................

The Fentons’ Emergency Ops Centre had, ironically, become their safe haven.

Whenever they wanted to enjoy some alone time before they had to part ways or a ghost attack took place, they would simply climb up the roof and enter through the door leading to it. Although Danny could just phase or fly them there if they were really pressed for time, which was their usual way of getting there because they were always pressed for time.

The Ops Centre was really just an excuse to spend some time together, really.

It didn’t matter what they did. Sometimes they would make out because they were a couple and couples made out with each other, didn’t they? Especially when said couple consisted of two hormone-driven teenagers. Maybe if they’d been a pair of octogenarians, the fuss of the relationship would have been elsewhere. Like how incredible it was that they’d survived that long in the first place.

Other times they just talked about nothing and everything at the same time. Sort of like what they usually did, but without Tucker. Sam would often talk about the latest hideous monstrosity their parents had intended she wore ー”Oh, you’re laughing now! But trust me, Undergrowth had much better fashion sense than my parents!”ー, or how rapidly the poles were melting and nobody was doing anything about it, or how her latest poetry reading went ー“Kwan’s getting better, actually. This time he wrote about the new scabs he got during the last game”ー, and how they could defeat the villain of the week who was somehow harder to beat than the previous one because, really, they always got harder to beat.

And Danny would recall his parents’ latest shenanigans, or Jazz’s newest psychological experiment with ghosts that she was sure was going to work because it was just flawless; or he’d warn her about the food in his house ー”I know you don’t eat meat anyways, but don’t open the fridge. The ecto-weenies are back and this time they’ve brought BBQ sauce.” He would also complain about the workload of homework Mr Lancer had assigned them; sometimes because he didn’t think he’d have the time to finish it all, and sometimes he just didn’t know where to start because what the Heck is irony anyway? Didn’t anyone realise that what they often called irony was actually more of a paradox? How could they be teaching something wrong in English class?! And, sometimes, in those rare moments where Danny finally realised, only to forget his lesson all over again the next day, that he could count on her, Tucker, Jazz, Val ーand his loved ones, damn it!ー and confide his deepest secrets, he would open up about how being Danny Phantom was taking its toll on him. How being famous was more often than not more suffocating than flattering. How he was getting tired that his enemies only ever came back, or became stronger, or multiplied. How he feared, no, how he felt it was never going to end until he was 100% dead and not just 50%... He even still had trouble understanding what truly happened to him the day of the accident.

And maybe they just would never know.

And then, there were days like today. Days where they would just stay in silence, watching Amity Park since the makeshift observatory his zany but genius parents had built all on their own. Because, sometimes, watching the sunset in silence with that special someone was just enough.

While Danny leaned against the railing, Sam was sitting on top of it, enjoying the soft breeze blowing around her and caressing her skin. “Today I trained with Valerie.”

Perking up at the sound of her voice suddenly breaking the silence, Danny turned his head slightly in her direction. “Oh?” He let out, “How did it go?”

“I managed to last a full five minutes and land a few serious hits myself.” She stated proudly.

The ghost boy whistled appreciatively, “Five full minutes! Now that’s impressive.” He sent her a sly look and a smirk, his admiration turning into amusement, “And how many hits did you cushion?”

Curling her lip in annoyance, Sam muttered, “The fact that I’m even sitting here is a miracle in itself.”

That had Danny snickering like crazy, before a sharp pain in his arm stopped him, “Ow!”

To his surprise, instead of a smug Sam as he expected, he found his girlfriend gingerly rubbing her arm, a pained expression on her face. “Okay,” she panted, “that was so not worth it.”

“Here, let me help.” Gently resting his fingers on her arm, he used his ice powers to send a chilly sensation across her limb, effectively alleviating the pain. “Anything else I should know about? Did the training turn into a battle to the death?”

“Actually, we talked things out and we finally buried the hatchet.” She said seriously.

Danny furrowed the brow in confusion. “Uh, Sam? I was kidding. And I thought you already did that when she found out the truth about my powers.”

Chuckling softly, Sam could only roll her eyes with a smile on her face as she leaned close to leave a tender kiss on his lips before whispering, “Clueless.”

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp fic #dp fanfic #sam manson #valerie gray #danny fenton #tucker foley #jazz fenton #jack fenton #maddie fenton #paulina sanchez #vlad masters #vlad plasmius #most characters are just mentioned though #amethyst ocean #danny/sam #my fic

55 notes · View notes

potteresque-ire · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I have been reading your posts and responses to anonymous and I am inclined to comment on your broadly realistic views and detailed analystic answers and let us not forget your ability to be warm in putting forward your opinions. I am truly a huge fan. Thank you for being a station for various answer seekers.

If you have time and patience, please elaborate on the situation GG is still facing post 227. Recently I read various comments insinuating GG copied DD for Douyin night which is absurd but the implication that only one party is still being targeted unnecessarily raise hackles of a lot of solo fans. And I, under any circumstances, DO NOT believe the involvement of the other party. Firm believer of BJYXSZD.

My point is what is being done to stop these antis from targeting GG. Since one of the motive to target GG is to severe the relationship of GG and DD, IMO at least. Does constant attack (external stimulus) on GG (belittling him by comparing him to DD) may have the possibility to effect their relationship (internal reaction)? Objectively yes, but given your perception of their relationship, what is your opinion in this matter, however subjective it may be?

Moreover, how much extreme and sometimes irrational analysis done by bjyx community can lead to harm to both of them especially GG?

Also, I have seen DD being the captain of BJYX in various circumstances but also throwing off people from their old predicted/maintened theories especially in case of Kadians. I am not sure how much to trust these 'candies' since he has a reputation of not giving a f*** of others opinion. So why would he post GG related or non-related content with same kadians. I mean if he posts private content with GG related kadian then why post promotional content with GG related kadian. Does it imply that kadians are related to GG or not or he doesn't care and we are thinking too much. I am not sure what I am writing now, maybe multitude of thoughts poring out here. I am extremely sorry for that.

I do not know whether people believe or not but 1st post by GG yesterday had initials YB in the circle. Not at all explicit, and depends on believers but I felt like he was just trolling BJYX, it may be good naturedly but after his promotional brand picture of shrimp in bunny's hand. I do not know I just felt, dissappointed/bitter/unsure about all of this. I think it is normal to feel this way from time to time even for SZD because along with emotional investment we have rational perspective which is necessary to scrutinize evidence(maybe) from time to time.

I whole heartedly apologize for writing an essay length ask, this is the reason I wanted your patience 😅.

If any other blogger wants to add or comment on this please feel free to do so. Your suggestions are highly welcomed. 🙏

Hello Anon!

I take it that your questions about safety are concerned about the behaviour of c-solos and c-turtles? International fans aren’t likely to put Gg and Dd at any risk. That said, however, frequent fighting among i-fans would likely drain Gg and Dd’s international fanbase, as many fans do not enjoy being a combative atmosphere (I, for one, will run away as quickly as a turtle can run!). Lost i-fans can’t be easily replenished, whether they’re turtles or solos ~ The Untamed, as a foreign language show so beloved that fans are willing to scale tall language and cultural barriers to understand it, isn’t something that comes around often. (stanning Gg and/or Dd does take a lot of work!)

About the arguments. I probably only know about a fraction of them since I do not interact directly with fans outside Tumblr . As far as I can tell, however, recent arguments among c-solos and c-turtles have been ordinary fights, and also, fairly “bi-directional” between the solos (ie. I don’t think Gg or Dd has been relatively exempt from attacks compared to each other).

These arguments can be heated and some of the attacks may sound vicious, but there’s nothing much to worry about from a safety angle, as they haven’t caught the attention of those outside the fan circles.

The theorising by turtles are also not inherently dangerous. c-turtles have mostly been careful about keeping their discussions among themselves. The only risk it may lead to in the future, that I can think of right now, is the associated YiZhan content on China-based websites (ex. Bilibili, Douyin), which has become fairly plentiful. YiZhan candies used to be relatively obscure given the guidelines of CP fans to keep them among themselves (they call this practice 圈地自萌, literally, drawing a circle on the ground and have fun in it by oneself). These days, however, anyone who’s curious can get a good sense of YiZhan’s story by browsing Bilibili.

This probably contributes to the continued growth of the turtle population; however, some of this content is created by non-turtles who seek viewership and have little concern over Gg and Dd’s safety. They are the ones who re-upload the BTS, for example, despite the repeated pleas and warnings by the “站姐”s—the superfans who take/purchase these videos—as well as the turtles to not do that. If these content creators go overboard, there’s a possibility that YiZhan content may get caught in the government’s “Eradicating Pornography and Illegal Publications”（掃黃打非) movement. The movement originated in the mid 2000s, and its recent waves have been used as pretext to remove LGBT+ and BL content on line (I will eventually set up a post re: those events). Just last month (2020 Dec), Bilibili has been explicitly named by the government for hosting questionable materials, which means it’s already under scrutiny. Sweeps performed on an entire website are usually broad-based enough that no specific individuals are targeted; however, the government also encourages, with financial incentives, the reporting of specific content and has set up a dedicated website for doing so. While all YiZhan content has no direct relation to Gg and Dd, removal of such content may cause an over-reaction from fans, which can, in turn, lead to accusations of poor fan management by Gg and Dd. Most people will also assume the YiZhan content to be created by turtles.

(Another example of how an alleged turtle mis-step can get the YiZhan fandoms and Gg and Dd tied to the 掃黃打非 movement: a few days ago, a Weibo post showed a photo of a hardcover version of an explicit BJYX fanfic, reportedly sold for profit, and GG haters were calling for an arrest for “illegal publication.” So far, there’s minimal noise on the issue, so it isn’t something to worry about. It can also be fake news, which is so bountiful on the platform and on every aspect of daily life that most die a very peaceful, very well-deserved death.).

Whether fan arguments / theories may affect Gg and Dd’s relationship (assuming they’re in a relationship) … my guess is, not much. Gg and Dd are busy people, unlikely to closely follow their fans’ discussions. Again, I expect effects to be felt only if the arguments get out of hand ~ as in, if they begin to involve the public and/or the government.

As for the question about what is being done to stop Gg being targeted: fan wars are incredibly common in China (as in everywhere else), and Gg and Dd’s aren’t special in that sense ~ it’s just that as turtles, we know about those surrounding Gg and Dd and they feel significant to us. No individuals can stop a fan war ~ all we can do is to not join these wars ourselves.

Personally, I think the international fan base of Gg and Dd, as solos and cpfs, have more chance to achieve peace than its Chinese counterparts — if they choose to want that. Popularity in China is not only quantified (which is likely true everywhere, by marketing departments), but very visibly so. Sales numbers, votes, traffic attributed to each idol are frequently released to the public, possibly to foster competition among fans and drive these numbers further upward. c-turtles’ demonstrated strong performance in pushing these metrics has made them a target to those who wish to have usurp their consumer power. They, therefore, have good reasons to be wary of anyone who try to sway them from their “turtle-ship”, whether to turn them into solos or to lure them into an entirely different fandom. The swaying messages are also not always obvious, not always a direct “your cp suck”. They can be subtle, many even come from netizens who appear to be fellow turtles, who may say “oh, maybe we (turtles) are wrong” or “we have to be realistic; Gg and Dd will never look at each other publicly again”—messages that cast doubt and sink morale in a fandom that’s already running an uphill battle. Remember: traditionally, CP fandoms are not expected or welcomed to last, and solos have been happy to (correctly) point out that the BTS, the origin of the most solid “evidences” of BJYXSZD, are getting older by the day. c-turtles can’t expect anyone else to help defend their ship if something happens, given CP fandoms’ lack of respectability, given YiZhan being a real person M/M pairing that is often frowned upon. So it’s understandable, to me at least, why c-turtles are on guard, and occasionally, clash with those who they feel may be trying to take away what they love.

i-turtles, I feel, don’t have that many reasons to fight. We don’t really have other fandoms (for example, the up and coming danmeis—the adapted BL dramas) vying for our attention (and wallets). No one can put an expiration date on the YiZhan communities except ourselves.

Another way to see this is: we—as in, the combined Gg + Dd international fanbase, the solos + CPFs—are lucky in a way the fans in Gg and Dd’s home country are not. Collectively, we’re much further removed from the pressure to perform as fans, which is immense in China with their fan circle culture and fan economy. i-shrimps and i-motorcycles ~ some of you are reading this, I think? (hello!) ~ here are my humble thoughts: the solo/turtle ratio of Gg and Dd’s international fans doesn’t make much of an impact on Gg and Dd’s star status, on the popularity metrics that matter. Our spending power is limited outside China’s borders, and while Gg and Dd likely love us equally as fans, our adoration for them doesn’t really matter much, if at all, to the production/media/commercial companies that control the trajectories of their careers.

Along this line, the turtles’ “double loyalty” doesn’t have much of an ill effect, because there are few popularity contests here that mean much; few times (if any) when the turtles must face the dilemma of whether to vote for Gg or Dd because only a single vote is allowed; few situations where they have only��x amount of dollars and must split it equally between Gg or Dd’s endorsements. There’s also much less cause to worry that i-turtles may draw the attention, or ire of the Chinese government ~ the whole international fanbase is too far away, too spread out to destabilise the regime in any way.

What the turtles do have in common with you, the solos, is their knowledge, their love for Gg/Dd. Knowledge, in particular. The people who know about Gg/Dd are still far and in between—at where I am, at least, and my guess is, it’s likely true for many of you too. Think of the turtles as people who you can talk to about your favourite star in places where few people know about him, can help promote The Untamed far and wide—many people still haven’t heard of the show, and they deserve to.

For the turtles ~ no one can take away our turtle-ship identity, as long as we don’t give it away. No one can report on the our communities to the government and get them dissolved. Our votes, our spending habits are no one else’s business but ours here.

So, Anon, here’s what I think, and these are all very personal opinions, very personal decisions on how to navigate fandom …

I truly hope that we, as the international fanbase, can try to use this luck that we have. Make our communities not mere copies of their (combative) Chinese counterparts but something different, something with our own flavour, something with more peace and less fighting.

Specifically, I see little cause to try to persuade/dissuade anyone to be a solo/turtle. I find them… not the best use of time. Why? Because frankly, neither solos nor turtles have a better grasp of who Gg and Dd are. Neither solos nor turtles have a truly good grasp of who Gg and Dd are. These discussions are therefore bound to end up with more ill will than conclusions, since both sides are short of facts.

We’re all short of facts as audiences, who’ve all only seen a tiny sliver of who Gg and Dd are as human beings.

I don’t mean Gg and Dd’s star image is fake ~ it’s just that, their star image is their “work face”, and even I, a lowly turtle, must act somewhat differently in my own office. It’s part of being professional.

Gg and Dd’s star image are their professional face, and no professionals worth a salt truly ignore other’s opinions, especially when the profession is being an entertainer whose job is to face and hold the attention of the public.

This is true for Gg; this is true for Dd.

Social media accounts are also part of Gg and Dd’s professional face ~ whatever is posted on there will be scrutinised by millions of fans, and they know that. The posts do provide some insights about Gg an Dd’s personalities, but they can’t be expected to show a complete picture. No parts of these posts, therefore, whether it’s the content or the kadians, are sufficient evidences for / against any aspect of their personal lives (especially as private an aspect as their romantic lives). Anon, you mentioned promotional marketing materials, and here’s my understanding of them ~ ambassadors such as Gg and Dd have minimal control over their design. The shrimp-holding bunny you’re referring to, for example, is very likely provided by the company.

However, may I also add this? Please try to not think of the shrimps / motorcycles as enemies of the turtles. Millions of people are behind each of these labels, and true for any group of this size, a fraction of its members are bound to be annoying. A small fraction may be awful, even. But they don’t represent the entire group. The shrimps are not only Gg’s fans, many of them have supported him longer than any turtle (since turtle-ship can’t be older than 2018); they’re also the reasons why Gg is in the industry ~ they voted for him in X-Fire. Likewise, a subset of motorcycles have been with Dd since UNIQ; they were there when the Korean ban effectively dissolved his group; they stuck with him when he was attacked for taking on the role of LWJ.

We’re all Gg and Dd’s fans, if you ask people outside the fandom. Remember: few outside China understand why heated arguments can occur between a bunch of shrimps, turtles and motorbikes. (It sounds a bit kafkaesque, just typing it out.)

It’s important not to lose sight too, that Gg and Dd’s social media accounts, where many new candies are found, primarily function as bridges of communication between them and their fans. These accounts do have different degrees of “professionalism” ~ Weibo and the official accounts being more formal, and Oasis, Douyin being more laid back and intimate; still, they all serve similar purposes. They’re not candy generators, or a script Gg and Dd have an obligation to follow to confirm / refute BJYXSZD.

Also: these accounts are accessible and watched by the public, not all of whom are friendly to Gg and Dd.

Re: Gg’s drawing on Oasis. He used the account as it’s intended for—to interact with his fans (the caption of the first draft was an unspoken invitation to shower him with ideas) and maybe, to show off a little (it was a very nice piece of artwork ~ a comment that I, sadly, haven’t seen much of). I doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted fans to carpet-search for traces of Dd in it (even though he probably expected that would happen); I very much doubt he posted his drawing because he wanted his fans to fight over scratch marks or black dots.

If these fights keep happening, I can imagine a possible outcome. He’ll stop showing us his drawings. His social media accounts will become less and less personal, as they already have.

I’ll share with you my thoughts about candies too, while I’m at it. These are probably not-so-popular opinions, so please take them all with a grain of salt.(Salted caramels? 😊 )

I haven’t looked at why candies are called candies, but I find the name appropriate for how I think of them ~ candies are 1) neither evidences or truth, 2) sweet, 3) treats (non-essential, not like the main course).

The first point is, perhaps, the one I try the hardest to keep in mind. There are posts out there claiming the candies as made-beliefs—generated from edited pictures or videos, exaggerated translations, and their interpretations forced by “guidances” in the annotations/narration. There are also posts claiming that turtles are deceivers, or have been deceived by brainwashers who maliciously created these make-beliefs. A turtle may assume these posts are all lies, all made by antis.

But, speaking turtle-to-turtle, I’d venture to say this … there’s some truth in the *first* statement. Many candies do, indeed, taste different if their taster returns to the original source��not necessarily unsweet, but less sweet. Candies, remember, are generated by fans like you and I. Same for c-candies ~ they aren’t endorsed by Gg and Dd, aren’t necessarily closer to the truth just because of the relative proximity of their birthplaces to their leads.

Candy generation is The Tradition of CP fandoms. It’s a celebrated skill, and who doesn’t want to generate a candy that will be talked about, that will be part of the BJYX canon, for as long as the fandom lasts? Some fans are, therefore, also more … efficient in the “marketing” of the candies they generated — in persuading others that their candies are evidences, the truth. “Guidance” photos and videos (which pinpoint the place to watch, sometimes with appropriate sound effects for emphasis) have come about that way, and because they’re easy to digest—especially where language barriers exist—they end up spreading to i-fandoms.

These photos and videos may look more professional / trustworthy, but they often have an additional layer of subjectivity ~ on top of the already subjective opinion of what makes a candy. Translations (of BTS, fake rumours house content etc) also introduce a subjective element. Word choices can significant modify the tone of a conversation; speakers of different Chinese dialects may also have different interpretations of the same phrases. Example: I, as a non Chongqing/Sichuanese speaker, can guess the literal meaning of the “puppy” term Gg used for Dd — 狗崽崽 (gou zai zai) — but I also had to rely on others to tell me how endearing the term is; me being a Chinese speaker actually doesn’t make my interpretation any more valid, or authoritative, in this scenario, because my dialect doesn’t use this term at all.

It doesn’t mean the people who’ve put in the work have any less-than-good intent; the vast majority of them come from a place of deep love. It’s just that we all carry our own perspectives, and as fans, our strong emotions in our fanworks.

This is why candies are often insufficient as good “points” for arguments, why they fail to convince non-believers, sometimes to the disappointment of some turtles. As evidences, they aren’t objective enough; they’re also often touch upon the assumption that’s mark the fundamental difference between solo and cp fans — the assumption that Gg and Dd are (not) together. Take, for example, this segment from a (polite) ask I got from an anon solo:

All the matching clothes, jewelry, shoes etc. Stopped being valid candy when I realized that the brands have popular stars "endorse" their products. The lightning pendant? Other actors have also worn it. Does that mean they are in a 3-way with (Gg) and (Dd)? Probs not.

Solo anon was correct! Brands have star endorsers, and other entertainers have, indeed, worn the same lightning pendant. The implied argument is also valid: people who don’t care about, don’t even know about each other can wear the same things. Most of us do that on a daily basis with our mass-produced garments.

However, a counterargument can also be made to the statement above, and easily: even the most precious, most beautiful wedding rings (say, from Tiffany!) are not exclusive to the first RL couple who bought them. It doesn’t mean the first RL couple is sleeping with all the couples who bought the same rings afterwards, doesn’t mean those rings aren’t significant to every one of these couples as romantic mementos. More often than not, couples wear matching things not because these things are exclusive to them—because how often can one find things that only exist as a single pair in this world? They wear matching things because they want to see something on themselves that remind them of their significant other and so, as long as the things aren’t so prevalent that everyone is wearing them, they can already serve their purpose.

But you see, Anon, that arguing over this would’ve been a waste of time? Because the solo came in with the assumption that Gg and Dd were not a couple, and the counterargument was made with the assumption that they were. The pendants alone are insufficient to prove either side correct or wrong. No one knows why those pendants ended up on Gg and Dd’s necks, except Gg and Dd and their teams. If I were to argue with anon solo, we can go on and on and on until we’re both left with bitter tastes in our mouths and WWX-red in our eyes, and forget the one thing that really matters: we’re both Gg’s fans.

(We could’ve spent the time talking about how that scene in The Wolf with Ji Chong throwing Zai Xing in the water is ❤️.) (I can’t believe the script waited 30+ episodes to do it. 😂)

This leads to my second point, Anon. Candies are meant to be sweet, and they’re meant to be sweet for you. In Chinese, a term for an expert candy person is a 嗑學家 (the candy-eating in CP fandoms is called 嗑糖 (ketang) ～ with 嗑 ke denoting a specific form of eating that requires breaking something open first with teeth—such as watermelon seeds; a 嗑學家 is a 嗑 (ke)-ologist). A 嗑學家 isn’t someone who can recall the longest list of candies, or spread the most candies around, or convince the most people that the CP behind the candies is real; they are those who can find their own candies in a source material, and be overjoyed by the sweetness of their discoveries without outside help. To me, at least, this term encapsulates the subjective nature of candies ~ what’s right for you may not be right for me and vice versa, and that’s perfectly all right. In other words, there are many candies out there but you’re not required to believe in all of them; instead, you’re free to choose candies to your own liking, compose your own version of the BJYX canon that you love, that you find sweet.

Wait, but you may say. Doesn’t that make my canon fantasy? Yes and no, because candies are based on real events. They’re interpretations, which sit somewhere between reality and fantasy. They’re like … opinion shows on news channels.

But what if I need to convince people of my canon —

Your “opposition”’s canon is as fantastical, and as real as yours — maybe it isn’t, but neither of you have a way to prove it one way or another.

Wouldn’t solos call me delulu, or clowns?

Maybe. But one step outside the fandom, and all of us fans—solo and cpfs—are delulu, clowns.

(That’s why while I’ve used the cpn label, I haven’t called myself delulu, or a clown. Anyone who thinks I have the truth about the love story about a pair of idol I haven’t met from thousands of miles away … the joke’s probably on them, don’t you think?)

Of course and again, Anon, this is only my take! I like candies precisely because I like to watch the real-time generation of candies, which ones different people claim as their own, which candies fall away and which stick around in the fandom over time. As a fic writer, this ship has gifted me with a treasure trove of information ~ what do people think of as romantic gestures, as give-away signs of love? The fun/amazing part of BJYX is that candies are available for so many different answers to these questions. Some people think of longing gazes and sweet smiles; some think of touches that can’t be helped (the many, many, many “fights”); some think of service (buying foods, designing clothes); some think of caring about the other’s well-being (throat candies and dumplings + noodles + crackers); some think of being The Other’s One and Only Exception (Dd being so talkative around Gg, Gg being so … fussy around Dd); some think of expressions through the arts (songs, drawings, dances); some think of grand gestures (the wave heart in the ocean); some think of matching clothes and symbolic accessories (rings); some think of birthdays and anniversaries (314, 622, the first snow); some think of sharing life’s hassles and small tidbits (fake rumour house); some think of … just looking VERY good together. Etc etc.

Some think of a subset of these, some think of all of these…

(Personally, I’m a very picky candy eater. I know about many of them, but only a small fraction impresses on me.)

(Still, I love watching candies. I love watching the joy of people sweetened by them ~ or, when c-turtles exclaim kswl! — the short form of ke si wo le! 嗑死我了! I “ke”ed so much I’m dying!)

This gets to 3), Anon, and I apologise to you too, for answering your not-essay-at-all with an essay! Candies are, to me, treats, and I don’t expect them to come at any frequencies higher than treats do. The reason isn’t because I don’t like candies ~ I enjoy watching them, as I said, even if I don’t eat many of them; the reason is because I don’t expect anyone’s romantic love to leave a trace in everything they do. For example, if I truly find myself in a SZD/SJD discussion re: Gg’s drawing, I’d say the lack of Dd in Gg’s self-portrait doesn’t really mean much. Even if Gg and Dd were head-over-heels in love with one another, Gg doesn’t have to put Dd in everything he touches. Likewise, Dd doesn’t have to present a consistent, or decipherable story with his kadians. This is true for the real-life couples around us too, isn’t it? They don’t perform every single act in life leaving a noticeable trace of their significant other. And the misunderstanding that couples do that — that their romantic lives take over who they are as individuals — IMO, partially explains why people who choose to not to date or marry, people who’re aro-aces, often have a difficult time convincing others that they’re complete humans. Romantic love is, of course, very, very important and can be life altering, but it also isn’t everything about a person ~ especially not if a person who has a career as exciting as Gg’s and Dd’s. Gg and Dd who also have friends, family, (many) talents and interests …

(And lots of ugly icons on their cell phones. Yes, I’m talking about you, Gg. That long-armed Pepe from your 2018 snowless Beijing post will give me nightmares…)

#pie metas #pie answers #yizhan #BJYX

82 notes · View notes

scraregenrecs · 4 years ago

Text

Rec Roundup - April 2021

Can you believe it's May?! Now that @sctropefest has run its course and so many people in the fandom are catching their breath – your rare & gen reccers included! – it's time to look at some of the fics we enjoyed from April 2021. As a reminder, we will be posting a master list of all of the Tropefest rare & gen fics once reveals are out, so stay tuned

Afternoon Delight by IAmHereIRL, Jake/David, rated E, 8652 words

Summary: This is the story of David and Jake's encounters from the end of season two to the start of season three

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: I think it’s fairly obvious by now that I’m a Jake Fan first and a human being second, so you KNOW anything with Jake’s name in the relationships tag is going to grab my attention. This is the author’s very first fic they’ve posted, and it’s just a delight — and the ending made me laugh out loud.

Basically His Only Friend by jmda4, Alexis & Johnny (background Alexis & Roses, and Alexis/Ted), not rated (we'd call it G), 1414 words

Summary: Minutes after realizing that she'd miss her family, Alexis feels her stomach drop when she checks her phone and sees a stream of missed texts from Stevie.

"Your Dad's in the hospital. They don't know what's wrong."

"We're at Elmdale Hospital. He was having chest pain and couldn't breathe."

"Alexis?"

Rec [written by doingthemost]: I will forever be salty that Alexis wasn't involved in Johnny's hospital scare, and I'm also a complete sucker for Johnny's relationships with his children… so this fic was a delight to stumble upon. I'm happy to consider this part of canon from now on!

coffee and catching up by @sarah--tonin, Patrick & Twyla, rated G, 535 words

Summary: patrick goes to the cafe the day after twyla gets back from nyc and wants to hear how it goes. because he and twyla are friends. :)

Rec [written by samwhambam]: I ALWAYS enjoy a good Twyla is friends with people fic. I love seeing her build friendships with members of the Rose family, and this fic shows a little friendship moment between Twyla and Patrick and it is so lovely! (with a little hint of Alexis/Twyla. It’s inspired by the fic Got You by colourcodedbinders

I would be complex, I would be cool by @yourbuttervoicedbeau, Alexis/Ruth, rating, 2220 words

Summary: Ruth doesn’t ask to stay the night, which is good; it saves Alexis from the awkwardness of coming up with an excuse for why she can’t. Ruth is gorgeous, and lovely, and fantastic in bed, but Alexis just isn’t looking for her next big love story right now. She’s not sure she’s over the last one.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: I'm absolutely enchanted with this world and the thought of these two confident, radiant characters getting theirs and more – and the reason why things shift from casual to the potential for more is so hilarious, I literally LOL every time I think about it. This is inventive, fun, sexy, and an utter thrill to read.

Learn To Live On Less by @chronologicalimplosion, Alexis & David, Ted & David, Ted/Alexis, rated T, 4509 words

Summary: For the first month and a half, even with the lists and the challenging reality of tailgates and homemade cheese balls, it doesn't even occur to David that his health might be affected by the move. His small black medicine clutch, already pre-packed in case of an Alexis emergency, had been practically the only nonissue the day the feds stormed through the house racing to touch everything of value in the house before the Roses could sweep it into their own arms. The bag had been solidly in-hand right after he emptied his cabinet of hair products haphazardly into a duffel and right before he chewed a bloody hole in the side of his mouth from the stress of having to manhandle his precious wardrobe in the name of expediency.

And then he wakes up--at a respectable 10:32--to an email from his old pharmacy notifying him that his automatic prescription refill date is coming up.

The one where David Rose is a trans man and it's a little complicated transferring your HRT prescription to another country when you've lost all your money and are living out of a motel.

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: This is such a wonderfully done layer over canon that just fits. Both the ‘real time’ and the flashbacks are visceral and wonderful. David and Ted’s interactions are so, so funny, and I can’t wait for more of this series.

never thought i’d meet you here by @thankstwy and @landofsonlali, Ted/Alexis, rated G, 3716 words

Summary: David doesn’t know I’ve been writing you these letters though so this can be our little secret. One teensy little letter can’t hurt right?

Alexis and Ted exchange letters after he moves to the Galapagos.

Rec [written by yourbuttervoicedbeau]: Look my Ted/Alexis feelings are… too much for this forum, so let’s just say they’re a lot. Also if you’ve read… anything I’ve written you’ll know what a sucker I am for epistolary. Basically, even though this was a birthday gift for someone else entirely, it FEELS like it was made for me. There’s such a gamut of emotion in the letters that Ted and Alexis exchange, and you really feel what the characters are feeling. Also the choice for how to structure the two chapters (which I’m not going to spoil) is SO effective. And the ending! The ending. You’ll see.

Tell it to the Goats by @kindofspecificstore, Heather/Rachel, T, 23,318 words

Summary: Rachel loves chocolate cake, her houseplants, and Patrick Brewer. She's not a fan of her car breaking down on the drive out of Schitt's Creek. Thankfully Warner Farms comes to her rescue in more ways than one.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: I don't know what to say about this fic other than: READ IT! It's captivating, enchanting, and delightful, packed with lots of enjoyable Rachel introspection and queer feelings. I love how fic gives us an opportunity to expand on characters we barely get to meet and give them new life, and this is no exception. It's tagged "the wlw Hallmark movie we all deserve," and it's absolutely true.

The Seasons of Our Life by @treepyful, Stevie/Twyla, rated G (MCD warning), 666 words

Summary: Stevie used to know nothing about plants. (Stevie thinks about the late love of her life as she picks flowers)

Rec [written by samwhambam]: Beware: there is a MCD warning on this fic, but that happens before the store begins. Grief is hard and never ending and this fic perfectly describes a moment of peace after a death, where you are able to think of their memory and remember them as they were and their impact on your life and just love them. It’s short, and beautifully written and perfect and I just want to give Stevie a hug. Highly recommend.

Wake Up, Sunshine by @fraudulentzodiac, Stevie/Ruth, rating, 407 words

Summary: Stevie wakes up to Ruth making breakfast.

Rec [written by doingthemost]: This is the perfect, bite-sized fic, full of fluffy, wonderful domesticity. Despite its short length, their personalities ring true in every word. This fic is like a warm hug, just like the cozy morning it depicts.

Happy reading, friends!

25 notes · View notes

novantinuum · 4 years ago

Link

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (No TW this chapter, but keep in mind the grander story involves major character injury)

Words: 6.7K~

Summary: The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

Chapter Summary: Aftermath.

This is officially the longest complete SU fic I’ve finished. I’m so proud ;w;

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

_____

Chapter 4: The Remembrance

His mind is shrouded by darkness for long enough that in the split instant the curtains finally part, for just a momentary shard of infinity, the mere idea of any world beyond the pitch-black he’s become so accustomed to seems like a farce.

Resultantly, his journey to consciousness is about as labored and exhausting as a backpacking trip across the Great North in the dead of winter.

He’s greeted by flashes of white, first— intermittent, dim. They splash across his inky sky in unreliable patterns, little bursts of static gearing up to pull him out of this all-consuming nothingness and back to reality. Next, a heartbeat. Steady and sure, such a relief to experience that his throat can’t help but constrict in a wave of all-encompassing emotion. (Why is he so relieved to feel something this normal?) Lying somewhere intangibly beyond his awareness, he can hear... water? Waves, he immediately corrects himself. The aching familiarity of waves crashing upon the shore, a sound he’s shared his front yard with for almost his whole life. Elsewhere, the faint scent of herbs and simmering broth delicately pulls on his consciousness, burning through tangled threads of disorientation and confusion and beckoning him awake.

Steven’s eyelids flutter open, thin lines of light streaming through the gaps between his eyelashes.

The moment he does however, the stark actuality of his situation slams into him with a vengeance. His head throbs as memories begin to re-establish themselves like individual puzzle pieces locking into place.

I was— Dad, and Amethyst... the fountain... empty, and then Pearl had to....

His heart’s pace snaps into overdrive in seconds. Thrashing under his blankets, he manages to kick his arms and torso free so he can rush to sit up. Dizziness assails him as he yanks up the bottom of his pajamas and splays his hand across the smooth, warm surface of that diamond at his core, feeling for cracks, for chips, for—

Huh. Imagine that.

Steven inhales deep as he attempts to balance out the pace of his breath, blood still pounding in his ears as he delicately traces a shaking index finger around the edge of the central pentagonal facet of his gem, entirely unblemished and whole. There’s no sign of damage, no thin stress fractures left behind. No evidence that it was ever cracked at all, really. For an excruciatingly lengthy moment his brow creases inwards in confusion as he wonders if all this agony was nothing but a stress-induced nightmare. But then again...

He groans, pressing his fingers to one of his throbbing temples as the ambient pain hits him.

Oh stars, everything aches. His head, his limbs, his spine, every square inch of his body feels like he’s been pressed through a meat grinder and ruthlessly spat out on the other side. If that’s not proof that what happened on his mission with Amethyst was real, then he doesn’t know what is. Drowsily, he flops back against his pillow and squeezes his eyelids shut, stubbornly yearning for the comfort and familiarity of sleep-induced unconsciousness. Maybe, just maybe... he can sleep these aches away.

Time passes far too unreliably as he’s laying motionless there, struggling against a hyperactive flood of thoughts to return to his earlier state of rest. Has he been awake for a minute? Half an hour? He has no idea. The only concrete thing he can glean is that he definitely has a headache right now. Maybe even a migraine. He’s still not sure what the difference between those is supposed to be. Is it a ‘squares are rectangles, but rectangles aren’t squares’ sort of scenario? Or are they synonyms? Hmm. Maybe he should ask Dad, he’d probably know. In fact, where is Dad? And how’d he end up in bed in his pajamas, anyways?

He’s honestly relieved when he hears the unmistakable sound of Pearl’s light, precise footsteps climbing the stairs to his room, if only that it gives him a solid excuse to face reality and stop deluding himself with the tragic, unobtainable lie that is peaceful slumber. He lets his eyes flutter open again.

“Hi, Pearl,” he mumbles when she reaches the top step.

She’s carrying a small dinner tray with a steaming bowl of something delicious smelling (the broth he recognized earlier?) and a glass of water perched atop. Meeting his half-alert gaze, her expression lights up with a glow of pleasant surprise.

“Oh, good, you’re up!” she says, a great deal of the stress locked in her shoulders melting away as she crosses the room towards his bedside. “I was just about to wake you myself, if you weren’t already.”

Rubbing away the exhaustion crusted at the corners of his eyes with the joint at the base of his thumb, he watches as Pearl carefully places the tray on the nightstand at his right. With a groan, he bows upwards under his covers, the vertebrae in his back popping and sighing all the while as he stretches. Goodness, he’s not sure his spine has ever felt so stiff and tight. Remind him to never accidentally get hurled against a tree in combat again.

“How... how long was I out?” he asks then, the workaholic part of him already fearing her answer.

Pearl glances towards the ceiling, her brow creasing as she makes the calculation in her head.

“Hmm, I think... around seven hours?“

“What??” he cries, shooting upright in bed with the speed of a spring trap. “Seven hours?! That’s like, the whole day! I had plans!”

She frowns pensively, gesturing widely with her hands as she replies. “Steven, you were cracked and needed time to recover. A hit like that is bound to take a serious toll on any body, hard-light or not.”

His features morphing into a scowl, he slouches back against the wall. That’s a fair point, how disruptive cracks can be for full-Gems as well. It’s not just a matter of Pearl babying him. Even though they healed Amethyst’s fracture fairly quickly, years back, it still took her a few days of rest before she rose to the top of her game again. And as much as he’d love to deny it, right now his whole body honestly feels like it’s been hit head on by a truck at sixty miles per hour. It’s a dull but constant brand of pain he can’t claim he’s ever dealt with before all this mess. That month he shot up almost a foot in height back when he was 14 came close, but even that period of ache was more subtle than this.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says with a heavy sigh, threading his fingers together in his lap.

“Anyways,” she says gently, the reminder of her presence cutting through some of the layers of his pain-induced melancholy, “it’s 5:38 now, just in time for dinner! And I took the liberty of cooking a batch of your favorite soup.”

Unable to help himself, his inner child gasps in sheer joy. He sits up again, slamming his palms to his cheeks as he gushes with excitement. “Chicken and vegetable soup with the tiny star noodles??”

Any lingering crankiness about the percentage of the day wasted dissipates into a fine mist as Pearl picks the tray off the nightstand and passes it into his lap, confirming the identity of his homemade dinner. As he begins to eat— carefully, taking small spoonfuls at first to ensure that his stomach can handle it— his guardian sits at the edge of his bed and provides him updates on the rest of the family’s whereabouts. Apparently Garnet’s still halfway across the galaxy, but should be returning home tomorrow the moment she’s through with her mission. She sends her love, Pearl says. She also texted Connie to let her know what happened, and his friend plans to come over as soon as she can in the morning to spend time with him as he recovers. Meanwhile, Greg left a few minutes before he woke up to hit the store. He’s picking up some new food for the both of them, and intends to sleep downstairs on the couch the next few nights to keep tabs on him.

“He’s been really worried about you,” she admits, reaching out for his hand as if she too frets he might suddenly fade into the ether if she takes her eyes off him for one moment. “Before I told him to step out of the house for some mental rejuvenation, he never left your side.”

Steven responds to her tactile affection with a soft squeeze for her benefit, but quickly lets go to continue eating his soup.

“Well,” he says through a fresh spoonful of food, “‘m fine now, so...” Pause to swallow, the bump of his larynx bobbing in his throat. “So there’s no need to worry anymore.”

“Oh, if only it were that easy,” she comments, a melancholy smile framing her face.

With a sigh, she stands to her feet, smoothing out the edge of the covers where she once sat. Watching this small act, he suddenly wonders if her vast history with deeply troubling experiences like what she had to witness this morning are why she’s so emotionally drawn to tasks such as tidying and repairing; after all, these do allow her space to exert a small degree of control over areas of her life she might otherwise harbor concern or anxiety towards. Huh. He presses his lips into a tight line as he willfully contemplates this concept. Considering his earlier disappointment about how much daylight he’s wasted, (so many business and socialization meetings he’s missing in town today!), perhaps he inherited a portion of his own workaholic tendencies from emulating her throughout his childhood. He dares not follow this rabbit any further, however... dares not ask what he’s distracting himself from.

Another time, Universe.

Brimming with a renewed sense of purpose, Pearl crosses towards the narrow patio outside the open slider door, her features returning to their neutral, observant state.

“In any case,” she continues as she rests her palm flat against the glass, “please do enjoy the rest of your meal! I’m going to fetch Amethyst from the observatory. She’s been, um... how to say... on Diamond pacifying duty these past few hours, and I’m sure she‘s desperate for a break.”

He offers a sharp grimace in response to this sentiment, knowing from almost two years of firsthand experience that patiently keeping watch over those Gem monarchs is no easy task. “Youch, my condolences. Feel free to send her in, I’d love to see her.”

Pearl nods in confirmation, and then slips out the doorway towards the observatory’s ramp.

He enjoys what little is left of his soup as he waits. Thankfully, his system shows no signs of unrest, which allows him to finish the whole bowl. Good thing, too. He unfortunately recalls losing his breakfast earlier this morning amidst the blunt force of that spiked tail to his stomach, which means he’s had little to no food in him all day. Now, he’s no medical expert, (Connie would likely know the answer thanks to her mom, though), but surely that can’t be good for recovery.

Amidst his better wishes, his thoughts turn to all the social meetings and appointments he’d planned for today. He can’t imagine Pearl knew his itinerary well enough to contact each and every person he’d unintentionally blown off, so that means from all of their perspectives they waited and waited and he simply... never showed up. Like Mayor Nanefua. He was supposed to discuss logistics about Little Homeschool’s eventual opening with her at town hall immediately after the corrupted Gem mission. Peridot. He agreed to meet with her at one of the ancient drop ship sites to assist in de-arming it for safety purposes. Lars. Before all this happened, he was genuinely looking forward to hanging out with Lars and the rest of his Gem gang this afternoon. And because he was reckless and got himself cracked on what should’ve been the most straightforward mission of all time, he let them all down. He groans, slumping backwards until his head clunks against the wall. Ughhh. Stupid, stupid Steven. Now, where on earth’s his phone? He should probably start to clear up this mess.

Steven places his empty bowl on the tray on his nightstand, and begins dutifully searching the tabletop. Before his search can bear any fruit, however, Amethyst bursts into the room, toting one of the handheld diamond communication lines they store in the observatory. (Blessedly, this one comes without self-destruct functionality. Times have sure changed since the daring days when Peridot emphatically called Yellow Diamond a clod.)

“Hey, little man!” she chimes when they meet each other’s glance, her relieved smile admittedly rather infectious. “It’s great to see ya’ up and at ‘em again.”

He offers a bashful laugh, twirling his finger around a short curl at the nape of his neck. “Y-yeah, I’m—“

“Yo, what’s this here, though?” she interjects, bee-lining to his nightstand to stick her nose in his dinner tray. Her face falls the moment she sees inside the bowl, which he’s dutifully scraped empty. “Dude, come on, you didn’t leave any for me?”

“What? Nooo,” he says in mock protest, his voice wavering in laughter. “I already ate it.”

Amethysts reaches forward and gives him a solid noogie, ruffling his hair until its ends are all mussed. Even though his head still hurts he can’t help but giggle, playfully batting her arms away. Hah, typical quartz sibling affection. Gotta love it.

“Nah, I’m just goofin’!” she grins. “You’ve lost enough food today on the forest floor, so I wouldn’t be stealin’ any even if I could.”

“Thank you for that reminder,” he comments with an eye roll, lips pursed as he tries not to muse too hard about the uncomfortable burning sensation associated with that abhorrent experience, least he vomit all over again.

Meanwhile, Amethyst’s high spirits finally hit their crest and begin to break like the distant din of white water waves offshore as she nervously tussles with the crystal octahedron clasped in her palm.

“But, ah... ignoring all that, Blue D said she wanted to talk to you?”

She presses the diamond line into his possession with fettered urgency, the posture of her hands vocalizing an unspoken, underlying message of “oh stars, I’m going insane babysitting these ancient Gem monarchs, please take this from me NOW.” Or at least, that’s what he gleans from it. To be fair, his months of near-constant interaction with them may make him a little biased on the subject.

“Probably best not to keep her waiting. We can catch up later,” she says, giving his fingers a quick squeeze before pulling away.

And with that she hurtles down the stairs into the main living area, ditching him within this empty room with the equivalent of an intergalactic phone that dials direct to who he can only describe as his honorary Gem grandparents. Sure, so maybe most Gems don’t have “children” in the same manner humans do, and maybe the Diamonds themselves have no clear understanding of the classification of human familial relationships, (despite their somewhat touching attempts at learning a few details about Earth culture for his sake), but the quasi-parental role they played in his mother’s life is undeniable from his perspective. So is their “out-of-touch” nature, a common stereotype he sees played up for drama with fictional grandparents on TV shows all the time. He’s not sure how he feels yet that this stereotype rings so true with his own.

Regardless, if Blue wants to talk, then there’s no time like the present. As much as he dreads it, this conversation is bound to happen eventually, of course— and after all their concern, the diamonds more than deserve an update on his well-being. Steven swallows hard, rhythmically tapping his fingers against the crystal as he summons the courage to dial, desperately attempting to not let the sour notes of their last interaction tint the underlying sentiment of this one before it can even begin.

Eventually, he sucks in a deep breath and activates the communicator. The octahedron glows a soft blue, and after a few seconds’ time during which the signal is crossing to the far edge of the galaxy, projects a view screen above its upper point.

The image is fuzzy at first, but sharpens fast once Blue connects from her end. She immediately smiles as she looks upon him, elated emotion running so deep within her that for once, it even manages to reach her eyes.

“Steven! I’m so glad to see that you’re okay,” she begins in full earnesty, clasping her hands together in front of her gem.

He doesn’t respond at first, finding himself too distracted by the scenery, and by the radical juxtaposition of Blue’s current demeanor to her behavior last night. Given the glimpse of White’s empty throne behind her shoulder, he’s pretty sure she’s sitting alone in the ballroom, the sight of which can’t help but stir up unwanted memories of the brief argument they had right before he rushed off to visit home, b-because... oh stars, he was right there, standing right in her presence when she reflexively forced her tears on him.

She wanted to throw him a massive planet-wide ball honoring his sixteenth birthday, wanted to organize a whole coalition of Gems to set up the venues, the entertainment, the food, everything— and when he finally managed to squeeze a word in edgewise between all her unfettered excitement to inform her that he wished to spend his birthday celebrating with his family on Earth instead, she was inconsolable. Crying. Raising her voice. Blaming him of running away from her just like Pink did all those years ago. In the heat of the moment he believed he was simply standing up for himself and his preferences, but fast forward to the present and he can’t help but question the etiquette of his own response more and more as the cruel minutes tick onward. Did he do the right thing, or did he only cause her undue emotional harm? Will Blue Diamond accept his stance moving forward, or will she press the topic again? (After all, he knows her desire to tether him to Homeworld for his birthday is merely a symptom of her greater longing for him to live in the palace with them permanently.) And if she does, is he even allowed to express his opinions when he’s outright walking a tightrope every day he’s in the public eye, single-handedly balancing Gemkind’s delicate political situation in both hands as he slowly but surely advances towards the light on the other side? He must be careful. One wrong move, and everything he’s been working towards for the past year could topple, could cause a disastrous vacuum.

No matter the personal cost, isn’t it his duty as savior of the galaxy to ensure that doesn’t happen?

Gems are depending on him.

And as much as he wants to be selfish and dig his heels into the ground to ensure his own comfort for once in his life, he’s not sure that’s even an option anymore.

Steven grips onto the edge of his bedspread with his free hand, clamping his fingers in tight, reveling in the sensation of skin shifting against downy fabric. It’s just enough to tether him back to the present. To ensure he doesn’t lose himself in the riptides of bitter memory. But by the time his scattered awareness clues in on the fact that he’s probably remained silent for an overly awkward period of time, it’s much too late, and in due consequence, he mentally returns to the scene to find that Blue has kept on talking with or without his conscious attention.

Hah. Serves him right, honestly.

“—was just explaining the details of the disastrous mission you embarked on today,” she says, making small gestures in embellishment of her soft-spoken words, “when your Pearl entered to announce you were awake. I’ll let the others know as soon as I can.”

He swallows, his throat hopelessly dry, as dry as the fine granules of sand scattered across the upper shore on an intensely hot summer’s day.

“I, um—“ he manages, voice wavering. (And quite honestly, feeling stupid for it, in her presence. How many months has he spent perfecting his technique for confidently speaking with the diamonds, again?) He adjusts his hold on the octahedral crystal as he vies to regain some sense of inner balance for the rest of this conversation. “So Yellow and White know too, then?”

Blue leans upon one of the armrests of her throne, releasing a weary sigh. It’s only then that he begins to take note of the residual anxiety blanketed across her form— the almost bruise-like shadows under her eyes appearing deeper than usual, her normally flawless hair now frizzy and unkempt— and if he’s honest, he struggles to understand how he truly feels, knowing that the news of his injury could affect her in such a soul-striking manner. (He often wonders if it’s fair of him, interacting with them in such a detached business-like fashion when, despite their intermittent shortcomings and confusions, they’ve offered him nothing but love and adoration in return since the beginning of era 3.)

“Oh, they were the first to know. Yellow answered the initial call, and White, she was hosting a court session with some of the fusion Gems just next door. I—“ She presses the pad of her thumb to the center facet of her gemstone, pausing in her words a moment to take a sharp inhale. “I only learnt about what nearly happened to you a fragment of a rotation ago, upon my return to the palace.”

His brows furrow, suddenly realizing the fact that, beyond Blue, the throne room she sits in sounds desolate. Void of all Gems. “Where is everyone, anyways?”

“Distracting themselves, mostly. Last I heard, they’re busy trying to locate any of Pink’s essences that might still remain within our stores, just in case something like this should happen again. Of course I dread the very thought, but...”

Her voice wavers with just the hint of a sob, as she momentarily breaks from her explanation to regain her composure.

(Steven is ashamed to admit that he fails to mask the instinctual tightening of his shoulders as he sees fresh tears brim upon the digitized representation of her visage, even though logically he knows there’s no chance her influence could cross all these light years to weigh down on him here. Not on Earth. Not this far away.)

“...I couldn’t bear to lose another,” she manages, and— after dabbing those teardrops away with her curled fingers— glances back up to meet his gaze with those boundless, melancholy eyes. “You understand, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he says softly, chest growing tighter at the untimely reminder of his mom’s passing, an inseparable facet of his life history he still hasn’t managed to process yet. Perhaps subconscious in nature, his free hand creeps its way under his shirt to rest protectively over his gem. “No one deserves to go through that pain again.”

��Y’know, that’s why I really do wish you’d consider our offer to permanently live with us on Homeworld, in the safety of the palace,” she mentions then, clasping her hands together as if this were a dawning, glorious new idea Steven’s never heard before. “After all, I’m sure none of this would’ve happened under the protection of the guard.”

“Uh, I don’t thi—“

“Can you imagine it, all four diamonds finally reunited under the same stars?” Blue continues, a wide smile passing gracefully across her lips as she waxes on about this indulgent dream of hers. “We could grow you an orchard, so you have as much food as you need, and your pebbles could make you whatever clothes or luxuries you desire. And of course, there’s still the matter of your annual birth celebration to attend to...”

Steven can’t help it. He can’t manage to stop himself, no matter how pathetic he knows his reaction is.

In the light of this topic’s re-emergence, he zones out again. He slips directly into the welcoming embrace of inattention and subconscious thought. His head’s pounding, the pulsing discomfort birthing a brand new species of ache right behind his eyes. It’s miserable, but no more miserable than the idea of the future Blue Diamond has been continuously pushing for the last few months. No more miserable than the idea of being trapped on a planet with individuals who — no matter how hard they try and change their habits for his sake in the present— have all deeply hurt him at various stages of his life. And sure, he knows this is a twisted, selfish sentiment for him to harbor, because of how Pink abandoned them in the past, because of how all three of them have worked so tirelessly these past months to reorganize their entire way of life: to actually see him as his own person instead of a shadow of his mom, to healthily process their own emotions instead of tearing others down, to openly invite fusions and off-colors into the light of society. They’ve genuinely changed for the better. He should be overjoyed about that, shouldn’t he? He should be happy for them.

And yet joy is the last thing he feels when faced with the genuine possibility that he might not be strong enough in his own convictions to stand up to Blue’s desires, that he might one day find himself trapped long-term on a planet that— albeit picturesque in its own unique way— he doesn’t call home, his feet rooted to the dead soil by thorny vines born of his own timidness.

Somehow, in the face of all his fears, he swears he’s transforming into a coward.

He didn’t used to be. The Steven Universe of Era 2 wouldn’t dare stand down from making his opinions heard, would fight for what he believes in until star-shine glistens overhead and all denizens of the galaxy could experience true freedom.

So what the hell is his hang up now? He knows exactly how he wants to respond, so why can’t he simply summon the courage to do it? Why can’t this be as intuitive as summoning his shield, or a bubble?

Why does he have to feel so... so twisted up inside about this?

Steven clenches his teeth then, a sudden spike of residual pain arcing up his spine. Yikes, okay. That doesn’t feel great. Maybe he’s been sitting up for too long, and needs to lay down and rest again.

Or else, maybe after he’s finally done discussing matters with Blue he could...

Wait a minute.

The fingers of his free hand begin to knead the blanket in his lap with a new wave of gusto as he comes to an abrupt revelation about his present condition that could change literally everything.

Stars, that’s perfect. That’s not even a lie! Why on Earth didn’t he think of this before?

He was severely injured this morning. The gemstone at his core outright could’ve shattered, without treatment. Surely any fellow Gem would understand if he says he needs some extra time to fully recover? Perhaps even... the rest of the week? Including his birthday? And on top of that, this extra time would allow him all the privacy he needs to figure out how to confidently and politely decline Blue’s recurring request to live on Homeworld. He’d literally be hitting two targets with one shield!

He nibbles at the inside of his bottom lip as he considers how best to phrase this.

“Hey, Blue?” he calls, immediately garnering her full gaze. “Um—“

Although briefly squirming like an insecure child under those intense azure irises, he stamps down that devilishly tempting urge to go silent and recede into the shadows of this conversation again, wholly compliant to whatever she says. No, he has to speak his mind. No positive change in this relationship will ever occur unless he resolves to stand up for himself, no matter how many reminders it takes. His muscles grow tense as his mouth bobs open once again.

“About the whole birthday celebration thing, I, uh...”

His tongue grows excruciatingly dry in his anxiety, and he’s suddenly struck with the reminder that he never drank the water Pearl left on his dinner tray. Pity, that. He swallows, throat tight and scratchy, and continues.

“I think it’s very kind of you to offer hosting a ball for me on Homeworld, but as of right now, I... I’m very, very sore, and need to stay at my home for a few days to recover from my injury, okay? I promise I’ll visit in person as soon as I’m physically able to,” he rapidly blurts, recognizing a glint of hurt coat Blue’s otherwise attentive expression, “just... after my birthday.”

The diamond lets her weary eyes flutter shut as she takes a moment to soak in everything he just said. Honestly, he can’t think to guess what’s running through her mind right now, and he’s not sure he wants to. Eventually however, she offers an extended sigh, its watercolor edges brushed with an air of melancholy.

“I suppose you’re right,” she replies, offering him a watery smile. “We wouldn’t want to upset your fragile organic system so soon after such an ordeal, now would we? Very well, then. I’ll leave you to rest.”

“Thank you,” he says, his shoulders finally loosening up from their overwrought state.

“We can do something to celebrate when you’re back on Homeworld, just the four of us. In fact, I’ve been talking with White, and we have the perfect idea for a gift!”

Steven gives a small nervous laugh, fiddling with the back of his shirt collar. “Hahah, yeah? Well, I guess I’ll look forward to it. Anyways, uh... thanks for checking in. Bye.”

His heart still pounding despite the overwhelming sense of resolution, his thumb presses the bottom point of the octahedron inwards, ending the call. He gently sets aside the communicator on his nightstand, next to his empty soup bowl. Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he flops backwards on his bed with his arms stretched wide and gives a sharp, celebratory cackle of relief. He... he finally did it! He spoke his mind. He stood up to Blue’s headstrong desires, successfully reasserted his intentions. Set clear boundaries, just like Amethyst said he should. And as his reward, maybe now he can celebrate his birthday at home without guilt hanging like a weighty anvil over his head. Just maybe. He smiles, allowing his sore body to sink right into the plush cocoon of his mattress.

For the first time today, things are finally on the up-and-up.

And so that pattern continues through the rest of the evening. It’s not long after his call with Blue that his dad returns from the store, not even bothering to put the frozen and refrigerated foods in their proper temperature controlled places before bounding upstairs to check on him upon the call of his name. No amount of detailed description could ever hope to intimately capture the full spectrum of sheer elation and love Dad unloads on him in the precious minutes that follow, but by the end of it his father’s sobbing in his arms, exhausted tears staining the collar of his pajama shirt as they clutch to each other with iron clad grips. At this point, the only way Steven can hope to respond is to act as nothing more but a solid rock, if only to reassure him that he’s alive, he’s well, he’s here.

The two of them spend a good chunk of the remaining evening together, watching reruns of Under the Knife at the foot of his bed while nibbling on some cheddar popcorn. It’s rejuvenating, honestly. Stars, is it rejuvenating. Somehow it seems like an eternity since they’ve been able to just... live life together, even in the simplest of ways. They’ll share a dinner here and there when he visits home, sure— a video call from another planet every week or so, yes— but there’s something so fundamentally irreplaceable about physically leaning against your loved ones and spending a tangible amount of time with them that he’s sorely missed over his busy months as Era 3’s ambassador. It’s special. Something to cherish. And something he dearly hopes to engage in with his family and friends a lot more as his immediate duties with the Diamonds wind to a close.

At some point in the middle of their fourth episode, Steven finally finds his phone. It was in his jacket pocket, of course— the new pink wool one he left slung over his desk chair before leaving on the corrupted Gem recovery mission this morning. With that retrieved, he makes sure to text a quick update to all the friends he missed seeing today. Even though logic tells him getting cracked wasn’t entirely his fault, it’s hard to dodge the temptation of guilt. Thankfully though, with the rest of the week now scrubbed entirely free of Homeworld stuff, perhaps he can reschedule a few of these gatherings.

The rest of his night is uneventful.

The Gems pop in and out to check on him, otherwise attending to their own obligations. Over the comforting backdrop of the television, Dad gushes about the concert he’s organized in town next week for Sadie Killer and the Suspects. Says he’s hopeful it’ll be a sellout. In return, he provides lush descriptions of some of the distant former colonies (now free planets) he’s gotten to visit as part of his political service. There’s some pretty stunning ones, he has to admit. The sightseeing he gets to engage in is a small but shining perk of his current responsibilities.

At ten, the TV is turned off. They hug and part ways, his dad quietly shuffling to the bathroom downstairs to brush his teeth and throw on a sleep shirt.

His headache is almost gone by now, having reduced to nothing more but a faint aura.

He’s standing outside on the porch enjoying some fresh, salty air before bed when Amethyst quietly slides into place alongside him, seeking his affection. She wraps her arms tight around his torso, burying her face against his shoulder. He reciprocates in kind. She doesn’t cry like Dad did, however. She doesn’t even speak. Rather, her purposeful silence ripples through his soul more than any concrete word or phrase ever could. Innately, he knows what she’s asking.

“I’m okay now,” he murmurs softly, blinking away his own budding tears while his expression is still hidden from her. “You healed me, I’m okay.”

“You’re a big liar, y’know that?” she says, voice muffled.

He rolls his eyes, pulling away from her embrace. “Fine, fine. I’m still a little sore. ‘Ya happy?”

Amethyst frowns, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger as she shifts her stance to lounge against the railing. “I’d be happier if none of that ever happened in the first place.”

Her frank statement hangs amidst the wind like a tattered flag upon an abandoned battlefield. Steven swallows, the resulting lump settling uneven in his throat.

(For a second he almost feels sick again, a surge of lingering discomfort churning at his core.)

“Yeah...” he sighs, staring off into the dim ocean horizon and forcing himself to acknowledge her unfortunate experience with this type of injury. “Yeah. I’m sorry if that brought back any bad memories for you.”

She scoffs. “Ch’yeah, so... I’m not gonna say it didn’t suck, but. It’s over now, y’know? I’ll deal. You don’t have to apologize for it, or anything.”

Long pause. His quartz sibling threads her fingers together as she leans against the chipping wood, silently tussling with herself under the ebbing solidarity of the ocean tides. A significant stretch of time passes between them before she finally takes it upon herself to speak again.

“‘S’not like it was your fault, anyways.”

His chest tightens upon recognition of that familiar self-blame inherent in her tone. If he were a stronger, better person, he might take it upon himself to chip away at the walls of that insecurity with love and reassurance, to be the kind, encouraging Steven he used to be. But he’s tired, and he’s lived long enough to acknowledge by now that perfectly formed words can’t fix everything. Not immediately, at least. People are complicated. He’s complicated. And sometimes the best one can manage is to simply act as a supportive companion to another.

Starlight glittering overhead, and the cool coastal breeze tussling at their hair, he joins Amethyst at the balcony and rests his cheek on her shoulder just like he used to do when he was little. Together, enveloped in a tension-filled silence, they watch the waves together. Watch the gulls pick at old food scraps further up shore, closer to the edge of the cliffs.

“Hey, what kind of gem was it, by the way?” he asks eventually. “You never said.”

“Ughhh,” she groans, dropping her head against the wood with a soft clunk. “A dang sapphire. Literally no wonder why she was so slippery!”

Steven can’t help the bubble of oddly placed glee that rises within him upon her answer. He cracks a dopey grin, shaking his head at himself. A snicker passes his lips.

A sapphire. Of course it was a sapphire. Gosh, isn’t that sweet, sweet vindication.

Her brow creases in confusion. “What?”

Perhaps finally cracking under months of accumulated stress, he breaks into peels of low laughter.

“What is it? Dude, ya’ gotta tell meeee!” she cries, playfully rustling at his arm as he doubles over against the railing, clutching his sides as he wrests to catch his breath and respond.

“No, it’s- it’s not even funny,” he says, pushing past the final surge and gaining some sense of composure again. “I just... my guess was spot-on. I’ve never seen a corrupted sapphire, before that.” His demeanor falls sober in a snap, wholly humbled by the abrupt reminder of the vital task waiting in his future, a task that— alongside the Diamonds’ bottled essences— only he can hope to see through. “I hope she’ll be okay, once she’s healed. I’m not even gonna mention what happened, honestly.”

Amethyst visibly pales at his allusion to the incident this morning. To ‘what happened.’ Hah. As if cushioning the truth in vague, non-specific language could at all erase the stark reality of what he went through. Sometimes he really is daft.

“Steven, I—“ she swallows hard, nibbling at her knuckles for a moment as she contemplates the greater details of whatever seems to be assailing her mind. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, okay? But... I have to at least ask. Do you, like... remember anything?”

He frowns, avoiding her direct gaze as he moves to lean against the balcony, overlooking the blustery shoreline.

“What, you mean about... everything after the fight? And at the, ah... at the fountain, yeah?”

Amethyst offers a hesitant nod, her eyes glossed with marked worry. Peering at the pinprick constellations above as he reflects on this question, Steven experimentally nudges scattered fragments of memory closer together, the seconds and minutes of that experience progressively locking into place until—

The world bends and splinters within his sight, his dad and Amethyst’s tear-stricken faces phasing into each other as they sink ever further into the thickets of their fearful despair. He’s prone in their hold, hard light pulsing rampant through his veins, unregulated, unrestrained, stretching out from his broken gemstone like clawing, yearning fingers... his muscles taut at one moment and pliable at the next, wholly unable to exert control over his body as his every limb jitters and jerks, unable to staunch his hoarse sobs as he soaks in the cold, terrifying static of it all, and now his words are jumbled and backwards, and deep within he knows this with an intense clarity but he can’t help it, he can’t fix it, he can barely even think, he ca—

Steven inhales evenly, purposefully not allowing his expression to flash even a minuscule micro-expression of residual fear. After all, it’s Era 3. Everyone’s supposed to find happiness and fulfillment now, which can’t happen when people are stuck dwelling on their shadowed past. Thus, Amethyst doesn’t need to be burdened with the knowledge of what he does or doesn’t know. That’s his problem to shoulder, his boulder to carry.

And he refuses to force anyone else to carry the weight of his past for him. He refuses to become like Blue, still stuck in a tempestuous pattern of pushing her emotions on everyone around her and making them feel like crap.

Perhaps it’s foolish, but he sorely wants to believe he’s better than her.

“Nope,” he says, feigning an unparalleled air of confidence as he shakes his head to confirm the negative. “Can’t remember a thing.”

#su #steven universe #amethyst #blue diamond #pearl #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

34 notes · View notes

tendoki · 5 years ago

Note

Hi hi! Could you do a tendo headcannons/scenario about a S/O that always gushes about how handsome he is?! Because he is a handsome boy 🥺 he deserves it thank u

YES I CERTAINLY CAN !!!!! I HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR ANON AND IM SORRY THAT THIS IS KINDA WORD VOMIT - Y I HAVENT WRITTEN FANDOM STUFF IN JUST LESS THAT A YEAR

Tendou with a GENIUS, CORRECT IN EVERYWAY AND INCREDIBLY BIG BRAIN S/O

this boy

does not have much confidence. like at all.

he is ushis bff, and even tho our wakakun is a DARLING BABY, hes also fairly popular and very VERY well known by many people

which can overshadow tendou (along w most of the team rlly) and make even his 'paradise' into something that hes maybe not too happy about

PLUS PLUS PLUS all those comments about him bein a monster as a kid? THAT SHIT HURTED

so if you, his gorgeously handsome and downright CELESTIAL s/o started praising and complimenting him on everything,,,,,,,,,,, u can bet his ass is GONE

this boy has reached peak serotonin

pls,,,,, take his perfect little cheeks into yr hands and kiss all over his face,,,,,,,,,,, the results will shock u

(he passes out <3)

PLS make this boy eat more. he has the second smallest appetite of the whole hq universe and its not fair that all of us have been robbed of tendou tummy

when u two have a sleep over,,, and ur in his bed cuddlin',,,,,,, just wrap ur arms around this perfect boy and start telling him how handsome he is 🥺

talk about EVERYTHING

there is no part of this man i wouldnt murder a child to touch

his NOSE????? KISS IT

his BANDAGED FINGY WINGYS??????? KISS HIS KNUCKLES AND WATCH HIS KNEES BUCKLE

body worship is a two way street ngl

in a sfw way 😳😳😳 (or nsft i mean 👀)

if you sit there and tell him about how fucking cute his little >:3c is he will do the same to you

hey, did you know that you actually have a pretty consistant habit of pulling a little •з• face when youre distracted? now u fucking do thats for sure

u also now know how hard tendou has to try n stop himself from kissing u bc of it

tendou loses his shit whenever you show any sign of enjoying his company or liking who he is

he finds it incredibly hard to believe that you actually have feelings for him

so you? cuddling this perfect boy and kissing him on the cheek?? IN PUBLIC??? WHERE OTHER PEOPLE CAN SEE YOU AND WILL UNDERSTAND FROM CONTEXT CLUES THAT HES UR BF??????? OH U FREAKY FREAKY

hes so thankful for you

he WILL get overwhelmed. full stop he cried the first time you went through and told him all the parts of himself you wish he liked more

start from either his palms or his forehead w little kisses

be careful near the neck bc i know this boy is Ticklish with a CAPITAL T

these lovin sessions only go into a sexual territory if you initiate it

hes perfectly content just having you love up on him without anything actually sexual go down. if ur there his mind is at peace

however he does have a praise kink so his dick isnt. if you arent comfortable taking it there just give him a couple minutes in the bathroom and he will be back good as new

TELL HIM HOW GOOD HIS HAIR IS WITH IT DOWN

he uses a lot of product and it had UNDOUBTEDLY taken its toll on my perfect boys head so maybe convince him to go without putting it up for a week or two?

his hair thanks you for it and the SIGHT is (un)holy

a LOT of girls notice him w it down tho and hes just :I at them

u aint rlly fuck w me way back then but how bout now :// cus my hairs not up right now :// and u simply suck right now

DO NOT COMPLIMENT HIM AT PRACTISE THE BOYS (except Ushi and Reon bc theyre Angels) WILL THROW FITS AND TELL YOU TO GET A ROOM

like damb bitch let me kiss my perfect boyfriend in peace tf

overall.

he is so so so in love with you

hes hard to get through to, but after a while of telling him these things he does start to believe it :)

the team as MESSY as they are, appreciate u alot

tendous confidence since u started dating and doting on him? 📈📈📈

which translates into his blocks!! he was right most of the time anyway but now that he knows ur LIPS have touched the palm of his hand? bous tryna imprint that shit on every ball hes faced with

also, watch anime with him. do it. compare him to ur fave characters. buy him things that remind you of him, even like just pickin up a lil pebble and saying you thought of him when u saw it.... doki doki

unrelated but he has a tiktok

none of the thirsty stans he has can make him blush the same way ur smile does. everything you do is addictive to this man

he does his best to compliment you as frequently and as intense as you do him, but the boy isnt There yet, yk?

give him time and soon enough the two of you will b like that one couple on the train kissing eachother every 5 seconds and telling the other how perfect they are

all u need is time

#tendou satori #tendō satori #tendou x reader #hq tendou #haikyuu tendou #satori x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #tendou satori x reader #long post

154 notes · View notes

fandom-necromancer · 4 years ago

Link

A little distraction Part 6

This was prompted by the amazing AO3 user Hirien! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 | AU: Reverse AU

‘Gavin.’ ‘Hmm-Hmm?’ ‘You do know I have to get to work, right?’ Gavin opened his eyes slowly, unwilling to face reality just yet. He smiled at Richard lying next to him, head perched on his hand and hair messy from sleep. The human returned the smile and gently brushed along Gavin’s cheekbone, hovering long enough before the touch to give Gavin the chance to duck away. As if the android wanted that. Nines’ contact had soon become a treasured sensation he couldn’t get enough of. But the gesture itself was something Gavin admired deeply. The human never took what he needed but asked and offered. ‘I know’, the android grumbled with regret. ‘But does it have to be now?’ Richard laughed. ‘Yes, actually. I’m already late. Don’t get me wrong if I was in charge, I would stay in our little world of blankets forever. Come on. Let me go get ready. We can continue in the evening, alright?’ ‘Fine’, Gavin complained, but threw him a cheeky grin afterwards. ‘I’ll hold you to it.’

He watched the man get dressed admiring his toned muscles and dotted skin maybe a little too much. Well, he was well beyond embarrassment or self-consciousness. ‘Stay safe’, he said, as his eyes fell on the surprisingly only scar the man had. An old gunshot wound that had led to severe complications in the hospital. ‘Okay?’ Richard pulled his shirt over it and turned around while buttoning it up. ‘I’ll try my best Gavin. Will you be okay?’ ‘Yeah, you know me, will spend the entire day catching up on your old series. Nah, I’ll be fine.’ Nines nodded, eyes lingering a moment too long on the android. ‘Didn’t you say you were late for work?’ ‘Oh, fuck. Yes.’

Gavin laughed as the man practically jumped into his pants and ran out of the door, trying to put on his socks on the way. The low thud from outside told Gavin he wasn’t too successful. ‘What a chaos human’, the android mumbled, standing up to at least check on him. Nines just threw him a lopsided grin, got back up and left for the door. Gavin watched him speed off from the driveway with screeching tires and shook his head once again. How did the man ever make it Detective?

Truth was Gavin never switched on the television and rather sat on the couch looking at the different framed puzzles on the wall Richard had completed. The touch from minutes ago still lingered on his cheek, the ghost of the man’s affection. More and more often lately, Gavin thought about their talk weeks ago. We are in beta phase now. He had never seen the human happier as in that moment. What made him think once again about how much the man had gifted him with and how little he had received in return. Yes, it wasn’t a competition and Richard had reassured him time and time again that he had everything he needed and was happy. But still Gavin wanted to give him something. But what could he possibly do? Buy him another puzzle, was his first thought, but he disregarded that. He could do that later, he wanted something special. Something that showed the human what Gavin couldn’t tell him himself. Something both of them would enjoy and would but Gavin’s mind at ease. That already excluded everything that involved crowds of people. And to be honest, the android still didn’t know much about the man. He knew what he liked to do to pass time, he knew he enjoyed their mornings and evenings spent in bed and he knew his favourite food. He knew every small gesture and habit of his and how to interpret it. But what the man did for fun outside their home, he had no clue about.

Maybe if he could… Gavin eyed the phone sitting on the coffee table. Should he? He didn’t actually want to do it, but there was no other way, was there? So, he took the phone and called the right number. ‘Hello?’ ‘Connor?’ ‘Yes?’ ‘This is G-G-Gavin’, he started. ‘I neeeed your he-he-help with something.’ ‘Sure thing. Does it involve Richard?’ ‘Yes’, the android nodded. ‘In a way at least.’ ‘Is he okay?’ ‘Yes! Y-y-yes he’s aaaalright. I’m just… What does he d-d-do for fun?’ ‘For fun?’ Connor grew silent. ‘Oof, that’s a tough one. He likes watching series and movies. Likes puzzles way too much. He likes practically anything that’s warm and fluffy…’ ‘And wh-what about outsiiide the house?’

‘You looking for a place to go on a date?’, Connor asked after staying silent for a while. ‘Wh-wh-what? Nooo, of co-c-course not.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Okay, I th-th-th- He does so muuuch for me. Wanted to taaake him somewheeere h-h-he enjoys.’ He heard laughter from the other side. ‘Hey, no need to get flustered about. He really likes aquariums. But be warned, if you take him there, he will have a hard time concentrating on you.’ Gavin thought about it. That wasn’t actually such a big downer. He wanted to do this for Richard after all. ‘Th-th-thanks Connor. That heeelped.’ ‘Hey, ask me anytime. Have fun on your dat-‘ Gavin cut the line.

The android had checked when the human’s next free day would be and ordered two tickets online. Now to the hard part. Telling him. ‘Urgh, can’t wait to stay in bed all day tomorrow’, Nines sighed as he stretched his back that was aching from the long day at work. ‘Then I have to disappoint you’, Gavin said slowly. ‘What? Why?’ The android looked up at the frowning human and pulled the tickets out of his pocket. ‘Surprise?’

Richard took them and smiled. ‘Okay, that might be the single thing better than staying in bed all day.’ ‘Really? You l-l-like it?’ ‘Yeah, sure, I love it. Can’t wait to go with you.’ ‘Me neither.’

They were on their way to drive to the aquarium and Gavin felt giddy for some reason. Maybe it was only nervousness, but he really looked forward to it. The large complex appeared before them and Nines parked his car, offering Gavin his hand on the way over the android gladly accepted. They showed their tickets to the android behind the counter that welcomed them and showed them to the entrance.

At first, Gavin was a bit intimidated by the sudden darkness, but with the sound of bubbling water from the filters and pumps and the human next to him visibly relaxing, it subsided fairly quickly. A moment later Nines was already excitedly hurrying from tank to tank, pointing out the different species to Gavin who could have looked them up anyways and telling him all he knew about them. His excitement was infectious, and Gavin soon found himself in their own little bubble watching different types of fish and listening to Nines’ enthusiastically talking on and on. Soon Gavin didn’t even notice the other visitors and was completely at peace with the world around him.

They wandered through the aquarium and more than once Gavin was completely content with just standing there and watching Nines look after the fishes that swam past the glass in a hurry, trying to get a glimpse at all of them. His favourite moment of the whole afternoon though was when they came to a large tank that spanned from the ground up onto the ceiling and was curved inwards with a few benches positioned right in front of it. ‘Come on, this is my favourite spot!’, Richard called out to him with a toothy grin. He basically pulled Gavin with him by the hand he had been holding for how long Gavin couldn’t exactly remember and Gavin had to jog a few steps to keep up. Nines sat down and waited until Gavin joined him on the bench. ‘And?’, the human asked, momentarily pulling his eyes from the mesmerizing picture in front of them. ‘Do you like it?’

Gavin couldn’t really find words how much he liked it. The curve of the glass made it appear as if they were in their own little compartment in the middle of the enormous tank and everything else was blocked by faux stone pillars. It was like they were completely alone. ‘I… It’s like being in there’, he whispered. ‘It’s wonderful.’ Nines grinned and laid an arm across Gavin’s shoulders. ‘I often imagine how it must feel. Obviously, I don’t want to be a fish, but it must be amazing. Feeling weightless and feeling the water flow past. I like this spot the most. Makes you feel completely cut lose from the world.’ Gavin nodded. He had to agree, but he wouldn’t find words that described the feeling better than what the human had just said. ‘I really like it’, was everything he could sigh out as he followed one silver being to the next and back.

‘Thanks for inviting me out here’, Richard said after a while and rubbed the android’s shoulder gently. ‘It’s really nice sharing this with you.’ ‘It’s your money’, Gavin shrugged, but immediately regretted his words. He wanted to say so much more, tell him he would stay, that he wanted nothing more than to stay. Forever. But he knew the moment he would try to, his voicebox would fail or stutter or distort his words and he wanted it to be perfect, especially when nothing about him was. How could he tell him that, without using his words, without phcking it up? His LED turned red, he could see it in their reflection in the glass and so could Nines.

‘Gavin? Is everything alrig-‘ ‘Phck it!’, Gavin cursed, then turned to the human and quickly, far too hurriedly, pressed a kiss on his half open lips, before turning back again in jerky motions to look to the ground. Nines stared at him, red blush complimenting the android’s blue one and lifted his fingers to his lips. ‘I-I-I’m sooorry.’ ‘What?’ Richard focussed back on the android and reached for his hand. ‘Gavin, there’s nothing to be sorry for. It just… surprised me. I thought we were still in Beta phase?’ Gavin looked up shily, but his grip on Richard’s hand was strong. ‘I’d think we are past that. If you want to move on.’ ‘Sure. Sure, if you feel comfortable with that.’ The man practically beamed next to him. ‘Would you want to… to repeat the kiss? Properly?’ Gavin nodded and both moved in more careful this time. Their kiss was slow and thoughtful, and Gavin knew the moment they separated he would want another one. Nines himself couldn’t quite believe what the android had initiated, but he was immensely happy he had. For once in his favourite spot to watch fish and calm down, he decided to block out anything but the android in front of him.

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #human!RK900 #Gavin Reed #android!Gavin Reed #Okay Nines is me #I love aquariums and I will forget the world around me in one #Can't wait to go to one when they open again #already got a list of things I wanna do should this shit situation ever end #but yeah fluffy story yei #Look at them funky bois

13 notes · View notes

dark-mnjiro · 4 years ago

Text

it’s hard to breathe [but that’s alright]

Rated: Explicit (mostly for language, violence, and sexual situations in later chatpers - just far warning and yes it’s multichapter)

Author’s Note: This is my first first fic for My Hero Academia. I apologize in advance if it’s terrible. It’s been a while since I really forced myself to write anything for any type of fandom. I hope you enjoy! Maybe i this does well enough, I can move toward doing reader fics and such again. It’s been a long time since I’ve written - ugh.

Part One

Her eyes scanned the darkening skyline of the city from her position on the roof of the tallest building on the street. This seemed like the perfect place to set up her gear and wait for her target to arrive. She reached around to the sniper rifle hitched onto her back before leaning the gun against the ledge as she set up her stand first.

A small alarm sounded causing her to glance down at the small wristwatch she wore. “Five minutes,” she mused, praying her informants were correct in the location of her target. Pressing a button to silence the disturbance, she reset the timer for another five minutes before grabbing her sniper rifle and placing the gun into the stand.

Laying down, she adjusted her position to line up the sight of the sniper toward the street. Her target would be crossing her sights soon. She lifted the black eye patch that covered her right eye revealing the iris of her eye glowed a hazy violet as she activated her own special quirk, which allowed her to see long distances for precision shots with a sniper rifle.

She raked her fingers through her navy colored hair to push some remaining stray strands out of her face. Her index finger gently curled around the trigger as she took a small inhale of breath in, her vision focusing on the street below…

The alarm on her watch sounded again.

An explosion took place in a building down below.

“There,” she said sharply, as her focus moved to a couple of villains escaping from a building with items in tow, clearly stolen as to what… she couldn’t be bothered to ask her superiors at the government. She only knew - they were planning to steal very important supplies from a government agency.

“Exhale…” she sighed as she let out the breath she was holding before three shots rang out.

Within seconds, the three were dead on the sidewalk.

Sitting up, her hand came up to wipe the sweat from her brow before lowering her eyepatch back over her eye as the color shifted back to its original grey color.

“Another beautiful display, Miyako.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Miyako found her boss from the government standing behind her along with…

“Principal Nezu?” she asked, tilting her head at the small white creature.

Nezu smiled as he approached her with his arms crossed. “It’s been a while,” he mused as he looked over her sniper rifle.

“Yes sir…”

“Still a gifted shot,” he continued to muse as he came closer. “I must ask a favor. I know you’re a valuable asset to the government in taking down terrorists Miyako… and I can understand that it pays well.”

“It’s not as glamorous as a famed hero life but it does pay well,” she replied as she slowly placed her rifle back on the hitch on her back

Nezu nodded as she continued to break down the stand before tucking the gear away in her bag for safekeeping. “We’ve been having problems recently with villain activity at UA-“

“I’ve watched the news,” she replied shrugging.

“I spoke with your boss and he’s agreed to offer your services in order to stop the league of villains from attacking our students again… particularly one student.”

“The league you say?” She asked, her lips curling into a grin. “Sounds like a challenge… and what would the league want with a fifteen-year-old?”

“Would it interest you if this child was to become All Might’s successor?”

“...I’m listening.”

Nezu smiled at the sniper before handing her a picture. “This would be your target to stop entering the school at all costs,” he explained as her gaze studied the picture.

A male… dark hair… blue eyes… scar tissue… He would not be difficult to spot in a crowd, especially on school grounds. The scars especially would make him obvious in public along with his bizarre choice of piercings on his face and body. Not a great way to blend into a crowd, unless that was the point… easy enough, Miyako thought. How hard could it be keeping a bunch of kids safe.

“Name?” Miyako asked, glancing back up at Nezu.

“Not much is known… just that he goes by the name Dabi. He has a quirk where he is able to control blue flames. He’s considered fairly high up-“

“Consider me interested,” Miyako said, tucking the picture away in her bag. “Lethal force?”

Nezu sighed. “If necessary, yes. Just protect the students and we will reward you.”

Miyako gave him another smile before extending out her hand to him. “Deal,” she said before shaking the principal’s paw in agreement.

——

“...this wasn’t part of the deal,” Miyako said flatly as she crossed her arms over her chest. In order to not look suspicious on school grounds, Nezu had suggested that Miyako pose as a teacher - while the cover was a good idea she had no idea that he was actually going to push her to sit in on classes. “You’re expecting me to babysit a bunch of brats in a classroom…?”

Principal Nezu merely grinned in response as he looked around the room where the other faculty had gathered around the table. “This is perfect!” he said happily, clapping his paws together. “You’re not nearly as famous as All Might so no one will question your status as a teacher here!”

“...but I’m not a teacher-“

“It’s settled!”

Frustrated, Miyako rubbed her temples feeling as though she had somehow been fooled into this… god, damn it Nezu…

“Miyako would you like a tour-“

“...I’m going to do rounds…”

She quickly made her escape out of the conference room before disappearing into the hallway. She took note how high she was from this level, in case she would ever have to take a shot from this height. “Pretty high and this is only about mid-level,” she commented to herself as she began to hear teenagers beginning to flood the hallways. Classes had obviously let out for the afternoon. “Time to take my leave…” she muttered before slipping into a stairwell and heading to the roof of the school.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes trying to enjoy the peace and quiet of the outdoors. She slowly lifted up her eyepatch, rubbing her eye as irritation had begun to set in from wearing the fabric over her eye… while she should be used to the patch by now, she still found it annoying. Too bad it was a necessary evil, otherwise she would suffer severe fatigue in her right eye and had been warned with possible blindness had Miyako continued to use her quirk without any sort of resting period in between uses.

Miyako began muttering numbers and calculations under her breath as she used her eye to attempt to measure the distance from her point to the ground. Each shot would be difficult, but possible if she were careful and precise. She brought her thumb to her lips as she began to nibble on her nail still going over the calculations in her head, a nervous habit she had developed over the years especially while she was lost in her own thoughts. “If I aim right here…” she murmured, as she moved around the roof. “Bullet drag would slow my shots down and could pose possible rogue shots toward students depending on wind speed, but the property is open enough so I wouldn’t have too many obstacles… assuming these kids listen and stay out of the way.”

Loud shouts and playful screams echoed from below her as she glanced over the edge to see UA students clearing out of school for the day. While she had heard there had been several strange occurances of villains crossing young students recently, she wondered which student was particularly important to the school.

“Interesting,” she mused to herself as she watched the students talking below her. “I wonder which one All Might has taken such an interest in…” She could not see each students’ quirk from this altitude so perhaps sitting in a few of the hero course classes, she could see for herself. Maybe it wouldn’t be as boring as she was dreading it to be… one could only hope.

Leaning against the railing, her eyes followed a particular group of students, one she could swear she heard shouting from her height. Was he always this angry, she wondered. The smaller student seemed to cower, fearful of the more aggressive one, while another student among them was nearly silent - almost stoic for a fifteen-year-old.

“Is that?” She wondered, squinting her eyes more as she swore she recognized that split red and white hair. “Todoroki Shouto…” Her lips curled up in a gentle smile. “It’s been so long. I hadn’t realized he was old enough to be a student here now.”

Her gaze softened at the teenager as she recalled sometimes coming over to the house when she herself was younger to hang out among her friends… one of which was his brother, Touya. Her expression saddened as she was reminded of his untimely death once again - also wondering how Shouto had grown since she had last seen him.

“Shit time flies,” she mumbled to herself. “He’s already a teenager. He probably doesn’t even remember me. He was so young then. Not to mention his dad never did let him join us in games. Always training...” Her voice trailed off as she watched the teenagers disappear from view.

Shaking her head, Miyako pulled herself away from the railing before placing her hands behind her head. With the students gone, there was no need for her stick around into the evening, she convinced herself as she headed back into the stairwell making her way back down. “Time for a break…”

—

“At least the day is over,” Miyako groaned as she laid her forehead against the bar counter while she waited for her drink to be made. The place seemed full, she assumed due to the approaching weekend and typical Friday night office workers gathering to celebrate a long work week. A drink was set down in front of as she lifted her head up just enough to see the bartender whom she had known for years now.

He tilted his head at her. “Long day?”

“Do you know how much I hate kids…?”

Chuckling, he shook his head before moving further down the bar to tend to another few patrons. Miyako sat up, taking a large gulp of her drink before setting the glass back down. The warm liquid burned down the back of her throat before settling into her stomach. She tilted the glass, swirling the remaining liquid around. At least she had a plan for where she could set up shots around the property. It was just a matter of if and when this specific person would show up at the school.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the picture of her target, eyes narrowing as she tried to imprint the image to her mind. He didn’t seem like much, but the mention of his quirk seemed what was most threatening especially to students, and if the league had grown interested in a student or two - they wouldn’t just send pushovers.

“Blue flames?” she asked herself, tilting her head a bit. Thoughts began to bounce around in the walls of her mind, wondering if perhaps there was someone out there able to control fire like the Todoroki family. But blue flames? She rubbed her eyepatch that covered her right eye in frustration. Blue fire was considered the hottest type of fire, next to a white hot flame. “I wondered,” she whispered, noting the scarred tissue all over his body. “His body can’t handle over exposure clearly–”

“How interesting…”

A male voice drawled from behind her as she turned to glance over her shoulder at the stranger to see no one but random bar patrons passing by behind her. Confusion set in before she could react, “You should learn not to speak about your targets out loud.”

Her stomach fell to her feet as she turned back to the bar to find the picture she had been given was slowly burning to ash…

“Blue flames,” she hissed before looking toward the bar stool next to her.

It was him.

Her gaze locked with his flashing orbs of sapphire before her gaze narrowed. “You…” she hissed.

It was Dabi.

A smirk curled over his lips before he raised a finger to wag at her playfully. “Ah ah ah,” he tutted, his eyes falling to her hand moving to touch the top of her handgun. “You wouldn’t want to make such a scene with all these civilians would you?”

Shit, he was right. Her hand relaxed before moving away from the small holster on her hip. “What do you want then?” she countered.

“I heard I had a target on my back,” he replied airly. “Wanted to see who they thought could possibly get rid of me.”

“Says the one making a scene by setting a picture on fire,” she hissed to him.

His eyes moved to the patrons around the bar now staring at the two and the now pile of ash sitting on the bar counter. Shrugging his shoulders, he moved away from her side. “We can always continue this later kitten…”

“What did you just call me—?!” Miyako hissed offense dripping from her voice, whipping around to attack but finding he had just disappeared. “Damn it…”

Jumping to her feet, Miyako reached into her pocket before throwing cash into the table for the bartender to cover for her drink and whatever expenses to fix his bar. She rushed outside, head darting in every direction trying to gauge just where Dabi had disappeared. She cursed under her breath before darting into an alley, seeing a fire escape with roof access. Better view for her quirk. Her hand grabbed the railing before she was slammed against the wall. A low groan fell from her lips as pain shot up her spine.

“Nice try, kitten,” Dabi’s voice whispered into her ear. Her gaze moved up to meet piercing blue eyes staring back at her, while he used his body weight to keep her still against the brick wall before his hand moved to grasp her wrist as she tried to move for her pistol again. “Good attempt,” he added, moving the wrist over her head. “But unfortunately, I think I know all your little moves.” His opposite hand moved to brush against her eye patch before tilting his head at her. “Hiding your quirk must mean it exhausts you after prolonged use…”

“Let. Go,” she snapped at him, struggling against his grip.

“Not yet,” he commented airly as he started moving her eye patch up. “I want to see what this looks like…”

Miyako managed to move her free hand while he was distracted. Her right eye, once exposed, turned the hazy violet color before she managed to pull a small knife from her hip immediately lodging it into his shoulder. His grip loosened before his hand moved to cover his wound as blood poured over his arm and she quickly found herself free again. She quickly grabbed her pistol, using her quirk to line up a perfect shot.

His eyes moved up to stare into her own, his smirk widening a bit more. “Well this is fun,” he whispered. “Who knew you were that sneaky…?”

“None of this is fun,” she snapped back at him. “It was your own mistake. You allowed my other arm to be free.”

“No? You’ll break my heart with words like that…”

Miyako cocked the small pistol before her index finger tightened around the trigger. She took a small breath inward…

“What the fuck?!”

A blue flame immediately enveloped her gun and palm. The sheer intensity of the pain caused her to drop the small handgun. She managed to put the flame out on her hand, but the pain… it was unbearable.

“Oh kitten,” he said, almost playfully. “Did you really think I wouldn’t fight back?”

Holding her hand close to her chest, she felt nothing but white hot pain searing through her every nerve at this point. “You melted my gun!” she shouted back at him.

“And hurt your hand by the looks of it,” he commented, shrugging his shoulders.

He was right. She winced lightly, still clutching her injured hand to her chest. Her skin felt as though it were tightening and blistering already - she would for sure have to visit Recovery Girl to make sure nothing serious would come from her injury.

“And you’re still bleeding,” she hissed back at him, her gaze narrowing at the wound she had left with her blade.

His smile faded for a moment while his blue eyes gazed up at her, causing her body to almost freeze from the piercing gaze itself. The corners of his thin lips curled up into a coy smirk before he took a few steps toward her again, shrinking the distance between them to just a foot. “Well,” he whispered, his eyes darting around her face almost searching for something in her pained expression. “You are correct… you have wounded me…” His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth before running it along his lower lip. “Consider this a draw kitten…Until next time Tsutsumi Miyako.”

Confusion filled Miyako’s eyes, realizing that she had never mentioned her actual name to him and for that, what did he even mean until next time? “What?” she shouted. “Wait a minute!”

Another burst of blue flames sent her back into the wall as she used her arms to shield her eyes from the sheer heat. Once the flames had died down, she lowered her arms, finding that Dabi had once again disappeared. A sigh of relief fell from her lips, realizing she had managed to make it out of such a sticky situation with only seemingly minor injuries. Her fingers moved along the singed flesh of her arms, checking the severity of the burns she felt blistering already.

“God damn it,” she hissed to herself, flexing her injured hand before rushing off to the school to visit with Recovery Girl.

---

Wincing, Miyako watched as Recovery Girl placed a special salve after having used her Quirk to heal the majority of the burns. The cooling effect of the salve immediately took effect, causing Miyako’s body to finally relax as she slowly began wrapping bandages around the burns. “How long until this fully heals?” she asked, quietly.

Recovery Girl sighed before looking up at Miyako. “Just a few days,” she explained, crossing her arms once she had finished wrapping the wounds. “These were some fairly serious burns Miyako… what trouble did you get into?”

“Part of the job, I suppose,” Miyako explained, her eyes falling to the floor. “Thought I was about to apprehend the target for the school but…”

Shaking her head, Recovery Girl sat back in her chair. “Promise me you’re going to be careful?” She asked. “These burns were serious… what type of quirk did you fight against.”

“He has blue flames, kind of like Endeavor.”

“Miyako…”

Looking up to meet the judgemental look flashing in Recovery Girl’s eyes, Miyako sighed as she leaned back in her chair. “He’s trying to hurt the students here and he needs to be eliminated. Quickly. I have to take every opportunity to attack. He’s quick but I injured him as well. A few burns won’t slow me down - you know that.”

“...unfortunately I do know that…”

“Come on,” Miyako whined before standing up. “You know I’m always careful in each one of my assassination missions. But getting hurt isn’t completely unavoidable. I’m smart. I’ll figure it out. He just managed to corner me because I got too confident rushing into an alley before checking perimeters.”

“I know but—”

“I’ll see you later,” Miyako said, cutting off Recovery Girl before rushing out of the office trying to avoid another lecture in being “too reckless” even when it had been a one time occurance. Miyako rubbed her eyes as she made her way out of the school and toward her apartment building, needing to take a few days of rest before trying to stake out Dabi again.

“Jackass,” she hissed under her breath as she shoved her bandaged hand into her pocket to fish out her apartment keys. Sighing, she slipped inside the dark apartment before cutting on the lights and shutting the door behind her. She tossed her keys onto the counter, making her way toward the couch before collapsing face first into the plush cushions.

Her hand moved to the coffee table, pawing around aimlessly for the remote before managing to turn the television on for background noise. Slowly, she pushed herself back up as she forced herself to go into her bedroom and change out of her uniform and other gear, and into a black nightgown with a white silk robe over it.

Miyako walked to another closet in the bedroom before opening the door where she placed her sniper rifle inside. She pulled open a drawer before setting the extra ammo away into neat rows with her knives displayed carefully next to it. She closed the drawer before shutting the closet and placing the lock over the handles to keep her weapons secure.

Walking back into the living room, Miyako stopped in front of her television before gazing out the back sliding door that led out to her small balcony. While she wasn’t a “pro hero”, her government job paid well enough that she lived comfortably and happily. The moon gleamed into her apartment, making her smile at the quiet calmness that surrounded her before something shining in the moonlight caught her attention.

“What the hell…” she mumbled, before sliding open the glass door. A few drops of blood splattered on her balcony floor, leading toward the chair she had placed there for her own leisure. Her eyes widened when her gaze stopped to find the knife she had used to injure Dabi now sitting in the chair covered in spots of dried blood.

“How…” she mused before grabbing the knife retreating back inside her apartment, locking the door behind her. Nervously, she nibbled on her lower lip as she walked the knife to her kitchen, tossing it into the sink to wash later. “How did—”

Oh no.

“There’s no way,” she snapped as she walked toward the door and looked around. “He couldn’t have followed me the prick! I would’ve noticed!”

Miyako looked at the small droplets of blood he had left and noticed there were none inside the apartment, which means he somehow got to her third floor apartment from outside… She lifted her eye patch to better gauge the different angles seeing one side of the ledge seemed to have bloodstains… “He came and left from that side but how did he get up here? Unless someone within his group has a quirk that could get him to this level - which is possible...” she questioned, tapping her index finger to her chin. “But, why? He clearly wasn’t trying to surprise attack… he would’ve forced his way inside… and not left my knife free for the taking… unless this is some sick psychological game…”

She paused as she glanced back at the sink where the dirty knife laid. Her guess had to be right… he was just letting her know that he knew where she was, that he could just appear any time of the day or night… But at the same time, why bother returning one of her weapons?

Her mind returned to the earlier encounter she had with Dabi, recalling a comment he had made about her being “fun”. A small sigh escaped her lips as her mind pondered the possibility that maybe for him, that her challenge was more than welcomed by him, that he enjoyed her fight. Perhaps this was his way of showing her that he couldn’t wait for another round?

“What a bizarre man,” she mumbled. “But who am I to try to make sense of villains intentions and MOs. It never makes any sense.” She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration as she made her way to her bedroom. She slipped off the silk robe before tossing it onto a nearby chair as she laid down in her bed. She pulled the sheets and comforter up to her chin as she settled in for a good night’s sleep - or so she hoped.

Meanwhile, outside her apartment complex, Dabi looked up at the balcony having watched her step outside and find his little gift for her.The blood from his shoulder had begun to slow after receiving quick first aid from another league member, but knew he would have to take time to heal and regroup. The corners of his lips curled up into a smirk as he stuffed his hands into his trench coat pockets before turning away.

“Hopefully you enjoyed your little gift,” he said to himself, slipping into a dark alleyway, making his way back to the League’s headquarters. “Can’t wait to play again, kitten…”

37 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

Note

So was Summer just a test for ozpin then? The idea would be that ozpin never once met a silver eyed warrior until summer for reasons, and then he seen summer hurt salem somehow and realized that silver eyes can hurt salem? But now the issue is that we dont see any lasting effects that summer has done to salem. Unlesd salem is hiding some dangerous All Might like wound, theres zero evidence that scer eyes can do anything towards Salem, because of the fact that Summer rose exists.

So now its either, summer rose did some damage to salem or she did very little damage to salem in which both cases only tells ozpin that salem can be hurt but not defeated. And we've never been told that salem can't be hurt.

I wrote the previous ask about this incorrectly: yes, presumably Summer (not Ruby) is the first SEW that Ozpin encountered since Maria’s days as The Grimm Reaper, which makes a decent amount of sense considering how rare the trait seems to be. I mean, SEW are literally legendary. If they were at all common then we’d have found a number of other people with silver eyes through our visits to each kingdom and the ability wouldn’t be presented as some crazy magical thing that Qrow has to assure Ruby is actually real. The idea that Ozpin has only known of three SEWs in the last hundred years or so isn’t terribly far-fetched based on how that trait has been presented.

There’s an assumption here though that I don’t agree with: “and then he seen summer hurt salem somehow and realized that silver eyes can hurt salem?” Ozpin doesn’t need to see Summer hurt Salem to come up with the theory that silver eyes can hurt her. After all, the fandom came up with that theory without Salem suffering any damage. The logic - though not necessarily correct - appears to be fairly sound:

Information #1: The power of silver eyes hurts/freezes/destroys grimm

Information #2: Salem fell into the grimm pool and became a creature of destruction just like the grimm, she has a clear connection to the grimm around her, and now physically appears to be rather grimm-like herself

Conclusion: The silver eyes may be able to hurt/freeze/damage her in the same way it does her minions

Ozpin had both those pieces of information and was thus potentially able to come to that conclusion without ever seeing a SEW attack Salem. That’s what would make it a theory as opposed to a fact; why he’d go slow and not claim he had a plan when Ruby asks, rather then saying, “Oh no. I 100% know how to defeat her because I’ve seen irreputable proof in the form of your mother launching an attack.” Ozpin presumably hasn’t seen that, he’s just working with a hypothesis here, and these kids don’t want “maybes,” they want certainty. Sadly, he can’t provide that yet.

Which leaves us with the question: Why didn’t Ozpin have Summer attack? I’ve seen a number of people raise this as evidence for why he can’t possibly think the SEWs are the key - otherwise he would have used the one he already had at his disposal - but what people fail to take into account here is Ozpin’s character. That is, he would have viewed Summer as a person, not a tool for him to use as he pleased. This is ‘Let them be kids as long as they can’ Ozpin. ‘Don’t tell the world about Lionhart’s betrayal and ruin a good man’s legacy’ Ozpin. ‘I don’t want my children to fight a war’ Ozpin. ‘You can turn back if you still choose’ Ozpin. ‘I’m going to give Pyrrha a choice up until the very last second’ Ozpin. He has NO desire to use people as experimental weaponry, so let’s consider what he’d need to do to make Summer into a willing ally instead:

Tell this new student at some point that her eye color gives her crazy, legendary powers that any normal person in this world would think is a made up fairy tale. Hope she doesn’t crumble under that info.

Tell her about the war so that she knows the extent of this threat and who she is expected to fight. Hope she doesn’t crumble under that info too.

Tell her about Salem’s immorality, a secret Ozpin has trouble giving even to people he’s known for years. Hope she doesn’t give up/betray him like everyone else.

Train her enough so that she can use her silver eyes at all and, preferably, use them on command to attack Salem with.

Come up with some sort of plan other than ‘Chuck Summer at Salem and hope for the best’ because if things go south she’s dead and Ozpin isn’t really about sacrificial Hail Marys if he can help it

And he could help it because this was a time of peace. The kingdoms were getting along, Salem was quiet, and Ozpin had faith in the protection his schools offered. All of this would have been pre-Fall of Beacon leadup and, frankly, based on our timeline Summer didn’t live that long. She went to school, spent a few years (at most) doing work, had Ruby, and died 4-5 years later, far as I can tell. So if we take Ozpin’s character into account, I think it works to theorize, “He might not have gotten to [insert steps 1-5 here] prior to Summer’s death.” What if he decided not to tell her about the war and her eyes until after she’d graduated? Let the kid be a kid through her education and then bring her into a war. What if Ozpin struggled to tell her about Salem’s immortality like he clearly struggled with Qrow, putting it off until it was too late and Summer was gone? What if Summer knew almost everything but then she got pregnant with Ruby? Is Ozpin really going to send a pregnant/new mother on a likely suicide mission? Or Summer herself said no, not while I’m taking care of my family? So let’s wait again, then Summer dies. What if Summer knew everything, was trained in silver eyes, had Ruby, was 100% still willing to go and try to defeat Salem, but Ozpin still told her to wait until they had more knowledge, some proof, at the very least a Plan B? (Something that may be the most likely given Salem’s comment about how Summer thought she could defeat her too. Summer clearly knew something about this battle.) The points is that Ozpin is all about waiting. He takes things as slow and as careful as he can under each circumstance, and Summer’s circumstances looked a whole lot better than the Remnant we see now. Ozpin might have assumed she had her whole life ahead of her and the defenses he’d built would not fail them, so let’s not chuck her at Salem just yet. Give it until Summer is a stronger, more mature huntress in her 30s/40s and her children have grown up enough to take care of themselves. Then we’ll think about you trying this experimental attack.

But Summer dies, Ozpin never gets to see if a SEW is the key... until he finds out that her daughter inherited the ability. Ruby is already on Salem’s radar and is throwing herself into fights, so let’s keep her safe at Beacon and give her training now, not in two years. But there’s still peace, the schools still seem safe, so he encourages others and himself to let Ruby enjoy her childhood... until it all comes crumbling down again. Months later Ozpin’s school is gone, the relics are in danger, and Ruby herself is demanding to know right now what he plans to do about it all. “I don’t know” would be a pretty honest answer.

Which, as another anon brought up, is speculation. It’s a theory based on what we know about the timeline, silver eyes, and these characters’ personalities. The takeaway is that I don’t think RWBY has backed themselves into any corners yet. There are still plenty of ways they can take these pieces and paint a picture where Ozpin is smart (figured out a possible way of attacking Salem), was compassionate (going to ease the SEWs into this horror as slowly as he can), but was nevertheless screwed over each time by unforeseen and terrible outcomes: first when Summer dies, then again when Beacon falls.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas #Anonymous

14 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 4 years ago

Text

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 22: Repercussions

/ Previous chapters /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Original female character

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ` 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: After Montserrat's birthday, there is much to deal with and discuss...if she and Rafael could ever find a way not to end up arguing each time.

When Montserrat finally returned home, it was the morning after her birthday. By that point, many things had happened. She, for one, no longer wore her heels and had no desire to see anything but her bed. Kara, on the other hand, had gotten over her initial anger with Montserrat for leaving her birthday party unannounced. Course Montserrat didn't know that since she was just getting there.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Kara smiled in amusement as she let Montserrat into the apartment. "Doing her walk of shame, I'm assuming?"

"Shut up," Montserrat said, rubbing slightly at her temples. She threw her heels across the living room.

"Bet it's a lot harder to do when you forget your bag at your party, huh?" Kara folded her arms, outright ignoring the look of death Montserrat was sending her way. "Oh don't be looking angry with me. I'm enjoying this and you know what? I'm gonna enjoy this next part because serves you right."

Montserrat rolled her eyes, intending on shutting Kara out for the rest of the weekend until she heard a voice down the hall.

"Okay, seriously, you can't take up all the hot water like that, doll," Sonny emerged from the hallway, clearly wearing the same clothes he had the previous night which only led Montserrat to conclude he'd spent the night here. "Oh, Montse's come back," he said like nothing.

"Noooooo!" the ginger screwed her eyes shut.

Kara smirked. "Told yah!"

"Are you teasing her?" Sonny asked with a frown at the same time Montserrat once again yelled "no!" Sonny gave her a look. "Why are you screaming?"

"Are you seriously asking me that!?" Montserrat scowled. "You're here! From last night!"

"Well, yeah-"

"Shhhh!" she frantically wagged a finger at him. "If I don't see it! It's not real!"

"Oh, it was real," Kara said, walking by and dragging a hand across Sonny's back before smirking up at him. "And it was fantastic." Sonny couldn't help look proud of himself, really.

Montserrat loudly shivered. "Nope! I'm not seeing anything!"

Kara laughed. "Sorry girl, but if you got laid, so did I."

"Would you please stop saying that!" Montserrat turned away with another shiver. "Maybe if I'm lucky, the ground will just swallow me up right now."

"Okay Kara, I think she's suffered enough," Sonny said, though looked fairly amused himself.

"Yeah, alright. That's what she gets for skipping out on a party I planned for a month," Kara moved on and patted Montserrat's arm. "Least she got some action in the end." She made her way to the couch and after a moment so did Sonny.

"Oh my God," Montserrat shook her head. "I did not do anything, Kara. Gosh."

"Then where were you?"

"At Casey's."

"Casey's? What were you doing there?"

"Wallowing in pain." Montserrat blurted the words, still feeling said pain but with even more anger than the previous night. It was a struggle giving Casey some crappy excuse but luckily Casey hadn't asked a lot of questions.

It was then that Kara started noticing Montserrat's demeanor. She looked angry, but there were traces of misery. "Montse, what's wrong?" Montserrat tilted her head to the side, mouth completely shut for the moment. "Did something happen?"

"...you could say that," Montserrat's voice shook and that itself was rare.

Both Kara and Sonny exchanged glances with each other, with the latter believing Montserrat wouldn't talk if he was there.

"Maybe I should go," he resolved and started getting up when Montserrat called for him not to.

"Don't bother. I'm not going to ruin your morning."

"But someone obviously ruined yours," Kara's eyes looked her best friend over. "What happened?"

Montserrat passed a hand down her messy curls and heaved a heavy sigh. "Screw it." She could really use some support and she was sure that Kara would be a good candidate, as well as Sonny. Montserrat walked over to the couch and sat herself in-between Kara and Sonny, now wearing a big pout on her face. "So, as it turns out, you were right Kara."

Kara blinked. "I was? I mean, of course I was. But if you want to be more specific about what I was right about...you could." She looked over Montserrat's head to see Sonny and shrugged in confusion.

Montserrat's shoulders slumped as she sighed again. "I left your party to go have drinks with Rafael."

Kara's eyes blinked rapidly before a smile took over her face. "All is forgiven!"

"No!" Montserrat said flatly, putting a dent into the woman's growing excitement.

"Hey wait a minute," frowned Sonny, shifting on the couch to better face Montserrat, "I called him and he shouted at me that he didn't know where you were because he hadn't even come."

"He's a lawyer; he's a liar," Montserrat said pointedly. "I told him not to say anything."

"Why?" Kara asked.

"Because I wanted to avoid your schoolgirl squeals."

"Well...that's offensive."

"You want to know what's offensive? The rejection I got." Yup, there was the bitterness starting to settle in. Montserrat ignored the looks she was getting because she needed to get this all out in the air once and for all. "He gave me a necklace-" she gestured to the ballerina necklace sitting around her neck.

Kara gawked at it. "Oh that's pretty!"

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. So I asked him if he could help me put it on…"

"Oh that's sneaky," chuckled Kara. "I do that too."

Now Sonny frowned at that admission. "Hey...you do. That's a trick!?" Kara's smirk was answer enough.

"I didn't mean it to be a trick," Montserrat clarified, getting more frustrated as she retold the story. Just thinking about the ending brought back the rage she felt but even more of despondence that came with it. "I was really only trying to put it on but then...then I don't know. I felt things. I turned around and he was just...he was just there and I...I couldn't help it. I kissed him."

"Go Montse," Kara nudged the ginger on her side.

"Yeah, and then he said it wouldn't work." Montserrat huffed. "It was unprofessional. There's an age difference, the way we behave with each other…"

"What?" came Kara's sharpened snap.

"Yeah!"

"The nerve!"

"Well," Sonny knew what he was getting himself into the moment he spoke up. Both women threw him similar looks. "I mean, a guy like Barba? Yeah. That was bound to happen."

"What?" frowned Montserrat. "He was 'bound' to reject me? I thought you two were hell-bent that we should get together-"

Sonny quickly raised his hands to show he came in peace. "No, wait a minute! That's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean?"

Kara's face behind Montserrat was one warning Sonny to be careful.

"I was just saying that, being who Rafael is, he would say something like that. I never said he meant it," Sonny visibly relaxed when he saw Montserrat's glare begin falter. "It's just his natural self to be cautious."

"What, so I'm going to ruin him and his career?" Montserrat's face contorted to offense. this conversation is not making her feel better, unlike what she thought it would.

"No, but maybe he thinks it could ruin yours. Look, bottom line is, you're the only one who was there so you know if he meant whatever happened between you two."

"...when did you become my best friend?" Montserrat asked with a low chuckle. Sonny honestly couldn't answer that, but he had a small laugh himself when Montserrat hugged him.

"Right here guys," Kara said on the side, feigning offense she was being left out.

~0~

The weekend seem to pass by quicker than one would have liked, and before Montserrat knew it she was back at SVU beginning the week with a possible gangrape. Luckily for her, no one except Sonny knew what happened that weekend, so it was pretty much a regular Monday at work.

Their victim was a 16 year old girl found at dawn. After a series of events, they discovered her real identity but at the same time losing her at the hospital. It was clear she didn't want to talk to the police, but that wouldn't stop them from finding her. They searched for the young girl, who turned out to be named Clare Wilson, not Erin Fogarty as they previously believed.

"So, our vic is Clare Wilson. Sixteen. Raped by a VIP guest at the strip club where she works," Nick went over their pinboard they were compiling of the case.

Sonny crossed paths with Nick to come point at a picture of an older man who barely had hair. "But the club owner, Perry Cannavaro, won't give up the rapist's name."

"She's 16," Montserrat read over their details from the table. "How the hell did she get into that job in the first place?"

She was looking over their initial photos of Clare and found the girl reminded her of her niece, Juliana. While Juliana was 15, not 16, the fact was her niece could've ended up in those clutches if the wrong things would've happened. Even the way Clare spoke and acted was that of a normal teenager. The rebellious pink highlights in Clare's hair was proof enough.

"She ran away from her mother's abusive home," Olivia said.

"We're going to bring her into a group home and make sure she's safe there," Amanda after putting down her desk phone. "Just settled everything with the head."

Fin strode into the room looking annoyed and angry. "Just talked to Perry again and, shocker, he's not talking. He definitely knows who the rapist is."

"Shocker," Sonny made a face.

"Alright, Liv, we can move Clare down to the group home today," Amanda got up from her desk, ready to do that.

"Right. You and Novak go move Clare to the group home. See if you can jog her memory about the rapist," Olivia pointed the two women forwards. "The rest of us have our work cut out for us."

~0~

Clare has very little to take with her, but she still ready to go with it. She held her box of clothes and followed Montserrat and Amanda down the blue hallway of the group home.

"Now this guy definitely knew Perry," Amanda was telling the girl. "You sure you can't remember anything about him?"

Clare shook her head. "No."

"Perry thinks that this will all go away," Montserrat rolled her eyes.

"Guess he knows."

Montserrat looked back at the girl with sympathy. It was clear she was used to things going wrong in her life. "Well, we're not dropping this, Clare, okay? We're gonna keep putting pressure on Perry. We don't just go away."

Clare shrugged. "Whatever. I'm out of there." She was led into a small room with one window at the end. "This place- they seem okay."

"You know, Clare, you want to turn your life around, they'll support you here," Amanda hoped Clare would get the message. "Stay clean, stay sober. Make curfew."

"I guess it's time." Clare looked out the window and saw a cherry blossom tree on the other side. "I have a tree outside my window. That's nice."

"We'll check in on you, okay?" Montserrat said just so that Clare knew they wouldn't abandon her out of the blue. And, it could also serve as a reminder that they would be looking in to see if she was making good on her and devar to get clean.

"Clare Wilson?" a woman in an officer's jacket strode into the room, followed by another officer. She held up a badge for them to see. "Hudson County Sheriff Department."

Montserrat exchanged a look with Amanda, neither of them knew what the hell is going on but they were sure it wasn't going to be good.

"Detective Rollins," Amanda introduced herself and showed her badge, prompting over to Montserrat who also raised her badge. "That's Detective Novak. How can we help you?"

The Hudson officer didn't look the least fazed by the detectives. "Arrest warrant for Clare Wilson." She motion to the other officer with her to take Claire into custody and then raised the warrant for Amanda and Montserrat to see.

Monster had snatched the warrant from the woman to look at it herself. "What the hell for?" Her eyes quickly skin the papers to see.

"Credit card fraud and grand larceny."

"New Jersey, though!" Montserrat quickly said.

"She worked in New York. And a Jersey City strip club."

Amanda blocked the officer was trying to take Clare away from them. "Hold up. You got the wrong girl."

Clare, on the other hand, didn't look like she was confused by it. "No, I worked in Perry's other club too. He made me overcharge customers-"

Amanda quickly waved a hand in front of the girl's face to stop her from going any further. "-stop talking, Clare. And ask for a lawyer. Not one word."

All Clare did was shrug her shoulders as they took her away.

~0~

"You know, the fact that Perry has connections with the Hudson Police department does not bode well." Fin sat at his desk with a weariness that was slowly creeping from one detective to the next. Their case was about to get even more difficult, because it wasn't already.

"Whoever this rapist must be top notch for Perry to go through these extents to lock up Clare," Montserrat leaned back in her chair. She had the tip of her pen locked between her teeth in a relentless chewing.

"Whoever he is, Perry thought he could play us so let's give him a good game," Nick resolved and would definitely give the man a good match if given the chance.

"They're back," Sonny pointed towards the door where Amanda and Olivia were crossing through. "You think Barba gave them something good?"

"Gotta be by the looks of her," Fin's comment made Montserrat look back to see Olivia, Amanda, Rafael and a dark-haired woman none of them knew.

Montserrat briefly crossed gazes with Rafael and, despite her efforts, she had to glare. However, Rafael just took it without one of his own. He thought he deserved it. In his mind, he did.

"So, what happened?" Nick curiously eyed the dark-haired woman.

"U.S Assistant Attorney, Connie Rubirosa," the woman introduced herself and held a hand to shake with them. "I'm here to help you with your case."

"I didn't know we needed help from the feds," Sonny said, giving a look to the rest of the squad.

"Well your friend called me over," Rubirosa nodded her head at Rafael. "Lucky he did because we've been looking at Perry Cannavaro for a while now. He's part of a ring that targets runaways. Puts them to work in his clubs, gets them hooked on drugs, and then they owe him."

"And the feds can't shut him down?" asked Fin.

"Well, we're trying to. The problem is that a lot of the vics go back to the life. Disappear, decide not to testify. What can you guys tell me about Clare Wilson?"

"She has had it hard, but has hit rock bottom," Amanda answered. "I think she knows that these clubs are a dead end."

"Will she make a good witness?"

"She wants to turn things around. She's credible," Olivia reassured the woman.

"Maybe that's why Perry pulled some strings and had her arrested."

"She's being arraigned later today in Hudson County. What do you know about Prosecutor Masconi?" Rafael inquired since he knew they'd have to deal with the prosecutor soon.

"Well, he's got a big ego. Bills himself as a reformer," Rubirosa said sourly, as if she'd already had the pleasure of meeting him. "But he's not gonna want to look like he's protecting a sex trafficker. Tell him that Clare is testifying in our grand jury case against Perry. See if that'll hold him off until she does."

"Okay, Benson, you up for a drive to Jersey?" Rafael asked the woman.

"I'm Acting Squad Commander. I can't just get up and leave. These guys might destroy my office," Olivia jerked a thumb at the others.

"Heavy lies the crown."

Olivia rolled her eyes at him then pointed a finger at Sonny. "Carisi can join you. Should make a lovely trip, don't you think?"

Now it was Rafael's turn to roll his eyes. At least he could get amusement somewhere in his life at the moment. he was sure all he needed to do was look at Montserrat for a full minute for her to want to kill him.

"Actually, Sarge," Sonny started getting up from his seat, "I think it would be good for Clare to see someone she originally talked to. Montserrat, for example."

Montserrat's dark eyes snapped up to the man. And if Sonny wasn't in public with her, he would've feared for his life. If there was something Montserrat Novak was good at, it was her death glares.

It seemed Rafael knew that about her because right now he was giving Sonny a 'be careful look'.

"I like it," Olivia agreed. She was blissfully in the blue of everything and it showed.

"But Liv-" Montserrat turned her chair to brunette, "-I think I can stay here and do more digging on Perry and his clubs."

"No, I think Sonny's got the right idea," Olivia shook her head. "Besides, you said Clare reminded you of your niece so who better to offer support than you?"

"...is that what I said?" Montserrat gritted her teeth together. "Damn."

There were only a few things to prepare in order to leave for Hudson County and while Olivia, Rafael and Rubirosa worked it out, Montserrat had her go at Sonny out on the street.

"It's like you and Kara are hell-bent on making my life miserable!" she shouted without a care of who heard her. "First, it was reassuring me that Rafael did indeed have feelings for me and then when that failed-" she said with a spat, "-you move on to make it impossible to avoid being in a room with him? What the hell!?" she frantically pushed Sonny's chest, not that the man would fight back.

"It was not my intention, Montse. I just think avoiding isn't going to get you anywhere," he said, irritatingly calm. "Same for Barba. You need to get it out-"

"-I did!" Montserrat snapped. "That's why I'm here in this awful situation!"

"It's a misunderstanding and I will help even if you hate me for it."

Montserrat's face fell flat. "Oh no, I am going to K-I-double-L you! And the only reason I spelled it out is because we're standing outside a precinct!"

Sonny took it all with a nod. Oh boy, Rafael was in for a ride if this did happen to work out for them. Sonny had come to really like Montserrat but there was no way in hell he could ever date that woman.

"We have 2 hours until Clare is arraigned," Rafael walked up to them, though clearly kept a distance from Montserrat. "You're going to drive with the sirens on, right?"

Sonny nodded. "What did you think? I'll go bring the car around."

"And I will go help," Montserrat attempted to say after Sonny had left, but at this point she didn't care if it was a logical excuse.

"No, Montserrat, wait," Rafael had grabbed her arm but she sent him a glare that immediately made him let go. "Sorry. I feel like we need to talk-"

"-but what about?" she pretended to be confused for a brief moment before returning to her angry state. "I got your message and I'll follow through. Don't worry, I would never want to be a hazard for your job and your career."

"That's never what I said," he frowned.

"How would you know? You walked out on me!"

Point one for Montserrat.

"I didn't mean to, I was just…" Rafael didn't know what it was like being speechless, and much less what to do when he was speechless. He felt incredibly guilty, not to mention hurt himself.

"You were just what?" Montserrat folded her arms over her chest. She waited for him to say something but when he didn't, she shook her head. "I tried to listen to Kara and be understanding but the fact you can't even string three words together is disappointing. And frustrating."

"It's not easy, Montserrat," he snapped. "I don't know what to do, alright? I've never been in a situation like this."

"So you're clueless, what a surprise!"

"Would you stop acting like a child? Maybe if you calmed down we could be civil and have a conversation-"

"-about what!?" Montserrat's snap was loud enough to grab attention from some of the officers passing by. "Sorry," she said in a sarcastically hushed tone, "I'm jeopardizing your job again."

"I did not say anything about that and you damn well know it!" Rafael's snap was on the same level as hers. If they'd been thinking more clearly, they would've noticed that even to argue they were the same. Of course they would clash. "When I talked about our jobs, I meant that they would clash. We would have to disclose to our bosses if we were serious about things. I never meant that you would harm my career. If anything, I would harm yours."

Montserrat wanted to continue being angry, but it became harder to do with that statement. It was the same thing Sonny had told her. "What?"

"I've been at this sort of job for 10 years so believe me I have pissed off more people than I can count. You let them know you're dating me and I guarantee you that you'll encounter obstacles for promotions."

"That's ridiculous-"

"-No it's not," Rafael spoke over her. "You've only been a detective for a couple years, right? No more than five?" Her silence was answer enough. "And it's not just that, Montserrat. There's the age difference-"

Montserrat groaned. "Oh my God, it's not like it's that much. It's literally only 6 years so you can throw that excuse away. You're just piling on excuses. I'm, regrettably now, 30 so you're going to have to take my word when I say I'm a big girl who can say 'yes'."

"How about the way we are, then? You and I...we're too matched. We bicker at least once every time we're in the same room."

"Have you ever thought that the reason we act the way we do with each other is because there's some feelings?"

The way Rafael sighed and looked away told Montserrat he had, but he was choosing to ignore it.

"The reason we're always so frustrated with each other is because we'd rather kiss than argue?" Montserrat waited a minute for him to say, but he just shook his head in rejection. "You know, for someone who's-" she raised her fingers in the air to do quotation marks, "-apparently 'a lot older than me', you're the one acting pretty childish right now."

"Don't do that," he warned but she pointed a finger at him.

"You are the one who's blatantly ignoring everything I'm putting on the table. As much as I hate to admit it, Kara was right. I was desperately trying to ignore the fact that I like you but here's me, acting like an adult, and saying what I feel. I don't understand why you're doing this to me and to yourself."

"I am so sorry, Montserrat. But believe me when I say: you can do a lot better than me," Rafael's soft tone was so uncharacteristic that it froze Montserrat. "I listed the logical facts that would interfere with whatever this would be, but don't even get me started on me."

Montserrat was caught off guard by the sentimental admission. And she would admit it if anyone asked her. Rafael was never one speak about himself, and much less what he thought about himself. Perhaps, she should've addressed that first and avoided a lot of the yelling she did. Who knows, if she could get the chance to talk about it with him...his 'logical reasons' may not even turn out to be the real problem.

But right now, time was up.

Sonny had returned with their car, so it was time to go. They were, after all, on the clock.

~ 0 ~

One day later, SVU was so stumped in their case. Clare had been arraigned and detained for pending trial in the Hudson County.

"How long is the New Jersey trial backlog?" Olivia asked Rubirosa for some type of reference. They were gathered in her office, listening to the failed visit to the county.

Rubirosa crossed her arms and thought about it for a moment. "She could be in for a year and a half."

"The county prosecutor and his wife, the ADA, they went through the motions, but Judge Dolan shut us down, hiding behind the fig leaf of Jersey's stringent anti-fraud statutes," Rafael sourly said, indicating he was still pretty irritated the judge had shut him down first before they began any process.

"They want to claim protocol, I can too," Rubirosa declared, letting her arms fall to her sides. "There's a judge I work with on the task force. I can get him to write up a court order stipulating that we need Clare in New York to testify in a pretrial hearing."

"Meanwhile, where are we with Perry?" Rafael looked at the rest for some answers.

"How do we say 'nowhere' without making it sound bad?" Amanda leaned forward to see the responses from the rest of her co-workers.

"Why don't we make some calls, get the pressure going," suggested Fin.

Olivia seemed to like the idea because she was going back to her desk, directly for her phone. "Let's hit him with an alphabet soup."

"Meanwhile, we'll get started on that writ process," Rubirosa resolved and headed for the door with Rafael. "Might get it done today if we're lucky."

"We can only hope," Rafael muttered behind her.

As they walked out of the office, Montserrat and Sonny were coming into the bullpen. The two were bickering since they'd come from a joint meeting with Kara that, unsurprisingly, turned out to be all about Montserrat.

"You're an idiot and that's final. Kara got it too," Montserrat let her bag drop on her desk. She looked over her shoulder and saw the DAs leaving together and even though she tried - like really tried - she couldn't help feel that ridiculous notion of jealousy. "They're pretty close, huh?"

"Oh, don't do that, Montse," Sonny shook his head. "They're friends. Co-workers."

Montserrat still rolled her eyes even though she knew it was a possibility.

~ 0 ~

Perry was in distress. His entire club had been shut down at 10 o'clock promptly. He had every agency at his doorstep, invading the rooms of his club.

"What the hell is going on!?" he came to stand in front of Olivia, seething with anger.

Olivia was all too happy to answer him. "So far, we have CSU in your VIP lounge and the Health Department and lmmigration going through your kitchen."

"And your sushi bar here..." Fin stopped by to point at a higher floor where a woman laid on a table with sushi placed over her like she was the table, "You better hope they don't find any human contamination on that raw fish." He flashed a smile at Perry then continued on his way.

Olivia raised her fingers to continue listing who else was visiting the building. "On their way is OSHA, New York City Department of Taxation and Finance, ATF."

Now it was Montserrat who stopped by them, and she was smirking as widely as could be. She may or may not be loving the fact she could cause some pain to someone else, and even better when they were actual scum. "You might as well shut this place down and give the girls the weekend off. Scuse me," she continued walking and followed Amanda down the cruddy hallway.

"Excuse me!" Amanda shouted as she ripped open all the room curtains on one side, while Montserrat pulled the other side's. "Scuse me, fellas. These nice folks here are from CSU they're gonna be executing a luminol check for fluids on these couches."

"Any of you been here before?" Montserrat's eyes flickered from one guilty man to the next. Most of them raised their guilty hands. "Yeah, figures. Swab 'em all!" She stepped aside so the group behind her could get started on their work.

Out in the main room, Perry was still complaining. "Well, this is harassment!"

"What, you think you're a big guy, getting your buddies in Jersey to lock up a 16-year-old rape victim?" Nick had the pleasure of standing in front of the man's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Who are you paying off? Masconi? Judge Dolan?"

Perry blinked at him then looked at the rest of the squad's waiting figures. "Wait a minute. Is this all because I didn't give up the name of a patron? Huh? All right, all right. Say I give him up, all right? Is this circus gonna go away?"

Olivia scoffed and turned over a clipboard she'd been holding, listing all the agencies she'd brought with them. "Oh, that's not my call. You see, once these agencies get involved, it really takes on a life of its own. Take Mr. Cannavaro in."

"What?" Perry looked both ways as Sonny and Fin grabbed him from behind. "Hey, call Arnie!"

"Hey Liv," Amanda moved beside the Sergeant, "Rubirosa got the writ expedited for Clare's release. Barba wants to serve the papers to Dolan first thing tomorrow morning, Jersey City, 8:00 AM."

"It is Amanda's turn," Montserrat said before Olivia got any ideas. She didn't feel prepared to face Rafael again without wanting to argue.

"Okay, go with him," Olivia agreed easily. "Make sure that Clare sees a friendly face when she gets out." Amanda nodded her head, but there was something else she was planning on doing tonight first.

#ocappreciation #svu #rafael barba #law and order svu #rafael barba fics #svu fics #rafael barba imagines #svu imagines #oc: Montserrat Novak #fic: dare to forget me

21 notes · View notes

maluminspace · 5 years ago

Text

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Pairings: Platonic Ashton Irwin/Calum Hood/Luke Hemmings/Michael Clifford/Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Requested: anon

Please could you write something with the boys helping the reader after a suicide attempt

Trigger Warnings: sucide attempt, references to cutting wrists, feelings of hopelessness, depression, anxiety

A/N: I am aware that the subjects of depression and suicide are very serious and delicate. I would never write something like this lightly. I was asked by an anonymous follower to write this because they wanted a part of their story to be told. It’s for that reason that I wanted to write this. I have realised recently that there are a whole bunch of people in this fandom who don’t feel they can relate to the biggest part of fanfic out there for one reason or another. Some can’t relate to most stories because of their gender identification (or lack thereof) or their sexual orientation, which I have taken a big step in addressing recently. Other people, however, can’t relate due to other reasons. I wanted to give all those people, especially the brave person that approached me for this, something to show that they are not alone. I realise that there are plenty of triggering things in this and I urge you to only read it if you feel like you can. If you want to reblog it, please do so with all of the necessary trigger warnings. As I’ve said before, fanfic was probably originally meant as a fun escape, something meant to be lighthearted. However I feel like it can be very valuable in giving people alternative fiction to read,where they feel a little more seen and hopefully less alone. Once again I ask you all to proceed with caution, the last thing I want is to trigger anyone. I’ve tried to keep references to the actual attempt to a very minimum. This is meant to concentrate on the recovery aspect. I’d like to end this note by sending my love and support to everyone who can relate to this any way.

Thank you to @mermaidcashton for editing for me <3

***

Running a fingertip over the fading scars on your wrist, you listen to the general day-to-day noises beyond your little room on the psych ward for the last time.

It’s kind of hard to believe that you’ll be leaving here in a few minutes, hoping never to return again. You’re pretty sure that you won’t need to. The lovely staff here have done their job, now it’s time for you to take your recovery to the next level.

Of course you’re nervous. On some level you’ve been partly dreading this day. Going home to the place where it happened isn’t going to be easy and you know that. It’s not going to do you any good to worry about that now, though. It’s better to focus on the positives, instead. Luckily there is a lot of those. Firstly, you have every right to feel very proud of yourself. You’ve completed your sixty days here and made an amazing start on your road to recovery. Secondly, you’re being rewarded by returning home to your four favourite people in the whole world. They were downstairs right now, signing you out at reception, just waiting to take you back to the cozy little house you all shared. Thirdly, you get to sleep in your own bed tonight! Something you’ve been looking forward to almost as much as the millions of hugs you’re about to get from your four best friends.

“Are you ready dear.”

Your nurse’s kind voice breaks through your thoughts and pulls your attention to the door of the tiny bedroom that had been your home for the last two months. You immediately drop your hands to your sides, looking almost guilty at having been rubbing your scars, albeit subconsciously.

“Your friends are here to take you home.” The nurse smiles kindly, gesturing towards the corridor behind her.

You return her friendly gesture, scooping up your backpack before allowing your nurse to lead you down to reception. The hallway is fairly quiet. You can hear the muffled sound of your fellow patients chatting away to each other in one of the large communal areas as you pass it.

As you leave the ward, your nurse explains that you’ll be given a weekly appointment with a therapist that you’ll continue to see for as long as necessary. That thought eases your worries a little, knowing that you’ll still have that element of professional support.

When you reach the reception area, all of the nerves and apprehension you’ve been harbouring temporarily melt away as you lay eyes on your four best friends. They already have the rest of your possessions and it finally seems real; you’re going home.

The four ridiculously tall men are gathered near the desk, talking quietly. They’ve visited you every single week since you’d been admitted to hospital, however they somehow look different out here and it brings a bright smile to your face. The biggest difference from their weekly visits is that they’re all together this time. Usually they take it turns to come and see you so that you have at least one person there at every visiting session. That’s all over now, you get to see all four of them every single day from now on, which is something you will never take for granted again.

As the four men are deep in conversation, you have time to thank your nurse and say goodbye to her before you make your way over to them.

“I hope you boys aren’t gossiping about me.” You tease, grinning excitedly as you finally allow yourself to believe that you’ll be leaving with them in a minute or so.

All four of them look over at you with exactly the expression you’d pictured on each of their faces.

Luke and Michael immediately break into the biggest, most beaming smiles you can ever remember seeing on their handsome faces. Ashton’s smile is a little more muted and apprehensive, he’s always been the worrier and you expect nothing less of him. Calum on the other hand doesn’t smile at all, he hangs back as the other three rush to engulf you in a hug. It’s not because he’s not happy or excited to see you, he’s just always been the quiet one. He knows that today has the potential to really overwhelm you, so staying true to his character, he patiently awaits his turn.

As you savour being engulfed by the other three, you motion for Calum to join in. “This is a group hug moment, Cal…” you reassure him before Ashton reaches over to pull him into the huddle. He doesn’t take much convincing, he muscles into the hug between Ashton and Luke, resting his forehead against yours before placing a soft kiss to it. The others shower you with pecks to your cheeks and head, as well, friendly little gestures that let you know just how much you’ve been missed.

It feels as though time stands still for while. As much as you enjoy being suspended in that moment, you’ve been in this place long enough. “Are we going to stand here all day or are you lot actually going to take me home?” You ask, a nervous giggle escaping you.

“Of course we’re taking you home, Tiny!” Ashton replies softly. “We just needed that group hug. It’s been a while since all five of us were in the same place at the same time.”

The use of your fond nickname melts away a few more of your nerves about leaving the psych ward. You’ve always loved being the shortest in your friendship group and the name ‘Tiny’ was one of the main reasons why. “Well I hope you’ve stocked up the house with all the food and stuff we need for the weekend because I want at least a forty eight hour cuddle fest.”

“This is why you’ve always been my favourite friend!” Michael exclaims, his emerald eyes brimming with fondness. “You understand the importance of cuddling which is why I am claiming the spot next to you on the sofa! We’ll make a duvet nest and make Luke wait on us hand and foot.” He smirks at the tallest man as he backs away from the huddle.

“Why me?!” Luke protests, “I love cuddles as much as you do!”

Michael scoffs as he takes your backpack and heads across the lobby towards the exit. “Whatever you say, breadstick.”

Luke heads off after Michael, his face set in a defiant expression as he begins to protest.

“I’m so sorry you had to come back to this,Tiny.” Calum mumbles as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “As you can tell, those two idiots haven’t changed a bit. They’re still as ridiculous as ever.”

“Good.” You reply. “I’d have been disappointed if they weren’t.”

Just as Calum begins to lead you towards the door, Ashton stops you both, gesturing towards the reception desk. “Before you resume your role as our much needed peace keeper, you need to sign out and get your appointment for next week.” He looks almost apologetic, like he’s scared of ruining your happy moment.

You offer him an understanding smile before stepping over to the desk. The friendly receptionist hands you a clipboard with a form attached before indicating the box you need to sign in. You scribble your signature and take the little slip of paper that informs you of the date and time of your therapy appointment for the following week. After thanking the lady once more you rejoin Ashton and Calum, allowing them to lead you outside.

As you step through the automatic your doors your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. You’re not sure whether that’s more because you’re nervous or excited, it’s most likely a mixture of both.

Little things that you’d taken for granted before coming here suddenly seem incredibly significant. The sound of the gravel crunching beneath your shoes, the distant rumble of traffic on the main road, passers by smiling at you out of friendly courtesy instead of sympathy and the feeling that you can literally go anywhere you please right now. It’s all a bit overwhelming but Calum and Ashton are a comforting presence beside you, grounding you but remaining silent as though they just instinctively know what you need.

Luke and Michael are standing beside the familiar beat-up old SUV, still bickering until the moment they notice you walking towards them. “Your carriage awaits!” Luke grins, “I’m sitting next to you in the back, that’s non-negotiable!”

“Of course!” You smile, taking one last glance at the hospital over your shoulder. “It’s always you me and Mike in the back, it’s the dads’ job to drive us around, isn’t it?”

“We’re only the designated drivers because the rest of you can’t be trusted behind the wheel!” Ashton chuckles, “Luke drives like a grandpa and Michael thinks he’s fucking Baby Driver.”

You couldn’t argue with that statement and it seems that Luke and Michael can’t either as they don’t even try to protest. The youngest friend traits round to the other side of the car whilst Michael holds the nearest car door open for you. “It’s good to have you back,Tiny.” He smiles, ruffling your hair as you duck your head to climb into the backseat.

To avoid getting too sappy, something very easily done around your best friends, particularly Michael, you opt for a light response. “It’s good to be back, as long as you’ve all left my room well alone whilst I’ve been gone.”

Your friends exchange mischievous glances and you’re immediately suspicious. “It’s almost exactly as you left it.” Luke smirks as he plugs in your seatbelt for you.

“Almost?” You question warily, “what have you dorks done?”

“Wow we almost made it five minutes before before you insulted us, I’m impressed.” Michael giggles as he shuffles onto the seat beside you and fastens his own seatbelt.

The blonde’s words prove to be an impressive distraction, successfully leading into a full blown discussion on who throws the most insults at the other four. By the time everyone is securely belted, you’ve completely forgotten about the hint that something’s been changed in your beloved bedroom.

“Everyone ready, then?” Ashton asks, although his soft hazel eyes meet yours in the rear-view mirror and you know that the question is specifically for you.

You dip your head in a clear nod, you’ve never more ready to return home.

Your eldest friend smiles at you understandingly as he starts the car.

Part of you wants to take one last look at the hospital as Ashton pulls out of the parking space. You resist the urge, though, settling for watching the imposing building’s reflection disappear from the rear-view mirror as your friend drives out of the parking lot and onto the road.

The five of you remain silent for a while as Calum leans forward in the front passenger seat to put on the radio. The familiar songs make the atmosphere a bit less tense. Not that it’s uncomfortable at all, it’s just obvious that your friends aren’t entirely sure what they should do now. They want to be there for you but it’s not always clear how to do that in the best way. It’s understandable of course, how are they supposed to know exactly what you need from them if you don’t talk to them. That’s one of the things you’ve been learning to do; to open up. As you try to think of a way to open up a relaxed conversation, you subconsciously begin to scratch at the scars on your wrists again. The raised lines over your veins are proof that you are healing both on the inside and the outside. It’s not good for you to pick at them, you know that, it’s just a bad habit that you can’t seem to shake yet.

Without saying a single word, Michael reaches for your hand, gently intertwining his fingers with yours and bringing your hand to rest on the seat between the two you, safely enclosed in his. Luke does the same with your other hand, both boys offering you a soft smile before returning their attention to the street on either side of the car. The caring gestures mean more to you than you’ll ever be able to express and you’re more determined than ever to make something of the second chance you’ve been given at life.

You give yourself a moment to process how lucky you are to have such a stable support network. These four men might be huge idiots at times but they’re the best friends anyone could ever hope of having. You allow the warmth from Michael and Luke on either side of you to calm your mind a bit before settling on a topic to hopefully get a conversation flowing. “So have you got any new gossip since the last time you came to visit?” You ask, looking at each man in turn. “Has Kevin from number 63 stopped bragging about his new Jag yet?”

Ashton huffs indignantly as the other three start laughing. The eldest friend has never really gotten on all that well this particular neighbor and always gets very wound up by his many annoying habits. Of course, you and your other three housemates like to tease him about it relentlessly.

“That fucking dick…” Ashton huffs. “If I have to hear about how fast that stupid car can go one more time, I swear I’m gonna key it!”

“As you can see…” Calum smirks, twisting in his seat to look back at you. “Ashton’s attempts at making friends with all of our neighbours is going really well.”

Obviously trying to keep his strong feelings about this matter at an acceptable level, Ashton tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “It’s only him that I have a problem with, his wife is really nice…”

“Yeah we know you like Jillian, Ash…” Michael teases. “We’ve all seen you take a sneaky look at her ass when she walks past our house in those tiny shorts she likes to wear…”

Ashton’s ears and cheeks immediately turn crimson as he tries to deny the allegation.

You laugh freely, pleased that your plan has started work. Luckily the Kevin and Jillian discussion leads on to other gossip and general chit-chat that ends up passing the time easily and before you know it, Ashton is pulling into the gravel driveway in front of the house the five of you share.

Without really meaning to, you tighten your grip on Michael’s and Luke’s hand, having held them contentedly for the whole journey. As excited as you are to be home, a flurry of butterflies take up residency in your tummy as you look up at the house where it all happened almost three months ago. Unfortunately this house will always hold those terrible memories but you’re determined to fill it with new, much happier ones now.

“You okay,Tiny?” Michael asks, his tone quiet and caring. “Do you need a minute before we head inside?”

You shake your head, knowing that thinking too long will only heighten your anxiety. “No, I’m good…” You confirm, finally letting go of your friends’ hands so that they can get out of the car.

“We’ve got so many surprises for you, by the way.” Ashton announces as he unclips his seatbelt. “Including a fridge and freezer full of all of your favourite food!”

“Does that include buttery popcorn?” You ask hopefully, shuffling along the back seat now that Luke’s stepped out onto the driveway.

Calum scoffs, turning back to look at you fully from the front seat. “That was the very first thing on our ‘welcome home’ shopping list for you.”

Your heart is so full of love for your friends in that moment that it almost brings tears to your eyes. “You really are the best.” You mumble offering Calum a watery smile before climbing out of the car.

“If you’re that excited about the popcorn then you’re gonna lose your shit when you see what else we’ve done!” Luke beams. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders as the others grab your things and lock up the car.

Michael runs past you, slinging your backpack over his shoulder. “He’s right, but you have to close your eyes before we go inside!”

Even Calum and Ashton, the most mature and sensible of your friends, are acting kind of giddy with excitement as they sidle past to open the front door.

“Do I really have to close my eyes?” You pout, “you know I’m clumsy, what if I fall?”

“We’ll never let that happen, Tiny.” Ashton reassures you. “Now close your eyes and we’ll lead you in, okay?”

Of course you trust them, but you feel a little bit silly as you close your eyes. The unmistakable sound of the key turning in the lock and the front door swinging open, signal that you can walk forward, Luke and Calum both lead you into the house, telling you when to take the one step up into the hallway.

You’re utterly confused as to what this huge surprise is, but you wait until you hear the front door being closed behind you before you ask if you can open your eyes yet.

It’s another couple of seconds, during which you hear your friends scurrying around, before Calum finally says “Okay!” the smile in his voice is obvious and you find yourself opening your eyes even quicker just to get a glimpse of it.

Sure enough, all four of your friends are looking back at you with beaming grins. Calum’s and Ashton’s cheeks dimple adorably, Michael’s eyes are scrunched in the corners the way they always do when he smiles particularly enthusiastically and Luke’s lips are curved prettily in that ‘model’ smile he always does.

For a moment, you’re so focused on how much you love these dorks, that you don’t realise that your first surprise is actually all around you. You gasp when you notice that the hallway has been repainted and the tired old side table has been replaced with a rather ornate new one.

“You always said that grey would be a nice colour in here.” Ashton mutters, stroking the back of his neck nervously. “Do you like it?”

Nodding, you traipse over to the side table to find a bunch of pictures perched on it. Happy tears spring to your eyes when you take in all the happy memories that they represent; the trip you all took to the beach a couple of years ago, the barbeque you held last summer where Ashton burnt the halloumi and Michael wouldn’t speak to him for the rest of the night and the first selfie that the five of you took on the first day you all moved in together.

“I chose those frames.” Michael announces proudly, placing a hand on your shoulder, “They look nice, don’t they?”

“Perfect.” You confirm, your voice sounding thick over the lump in your throat.

“There’s so much more to show you, though!” Luke interjects, taking your hand and leading you through to the kitchen. “We didn’t change too much in here because we know you love it the way it is, but we did get buy some new mugs…” He gestures to where five mugs are sitting on the counter near the sink, each one with a big gold letter on, the first letter of each of your names.

“They have our star signs on the back, too!” Ashton adds excitably. “You know I’m a sucker for that stuff.” He picks up the nearest mug which happens to be his own and proudly shows the cancer constellation on the back of it in the same shiny gold as the ‘A’ emblazoned on the front.

You take it from him to get a closer look. “They’re so nice!” You exclaim before placing it back down next to the rest.

“Yeah, perfect for these…” Michael grins, opening a cupboard to reveal a whole shelf of different flavour tea, coffee and hot chocolate.

Giggling at the sweet gesture you give each of them a quick hug. “You’re all the best, you know?”

“You haven’t even seen the best parts yet.” Ashton shrugs, “Come look at the sitting room!”

You follow him back through the hallway and into the living room, grinning at the pretty new sofa they’ve squeezed into the cozy room.

“It’s a corner sofa, so we can all fit on it!” Luke squeals, “no more fighting over has to sit alone in the arm chair.”

There’s no denying that all of your buddies have put in a lot of effort to freshen up the house ready for your arrival today. A shiny ‘Welcome Home!’ banner has been hung on the fireplace and on one side of the fancy new sofa, there’s a neat pile of blankets, duvets and pillows ready for the nest that you’ll inevitably be making very soon.

“You’ve all gone to so much trouble.” You sniffle. “You’ll never know how grateful I am.”

“Nothing’s any trouble when it’s for you, Tiny..” Calum smiles softly.

It’s only then that you realise he’s been very quiet up ‘til now. “Is everything okay, Cal?” You ask, touching his arm gently. “You look anxious.”

Calum nods but his expression remains slightly tense. “I just… Well I hope you like the last part of this surprise, that’s all.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it!” You reassure him. “Where is it?”

“Upstairs.” He replies anxiously, gesturing back out into the hallway.

You feel a knot of dread tighten in your stomach as you hear Michael and Luke scurry up the stairs ahead of you. Judging by the nervous glances that Calum and Ashton share, you have a feeling that this part of the surprise is going to be somehow directly linked to what happened last time you were up there and part of you doesn’t want to know what it is.

“It’s okay, Tiny.” Ashton reassures you. “It’s a nice surprise, I promise.”

There’s no reason to doubt your friends now, they’ve done so much to help you so far that it’s obvious they’re just trying to make today special and so far they’ve succeeded. As you allow them to lead you up the stairs, you notice that pretty new paintings and a few other photographs have appeared on the walls.

“Ashton painted those.” Michael beams, shooting your eldest friend a proud glance. “We told him they were too good to keep stuffed down the side of his bed!”

You nod in agreement. Each picture is beautiful in it’s own right, all of them colourful and expressive, just like Ashton himself.

Once you reach the top of the stairs you fully expect to be led to your room, presuming that the final part of the surprise is that they’ve redecorated your room or something. Therefore, you’re utterly shocked and confused when your friends lead you towards Calum’s room.

“Okay, so you’re going to have to use your imagination a little bit.” Calum explains, “We’d have loved to have finished it for you, but… Well, we needed you to be here to finish it with us really.”

Your confusion grows as Ashton pushes open the door. To your bewilderment, All of Calum’s furniture and possessions are gone. The room is entirely empty besides a bed, which you immediately recognise as your own.

“We didn’t want to move all of your stuff without your permission, but we thought you’d like this room better than your old one.” Calum clarifies. “It has this big window and we know how much you’ve always wanted a window seat, Ashton says he can build one for you.”

“Calum…” You gasp, tears spilling over on to your cheeks. “I can’t take your room, this is… you love having the big room!”

Michael scoffs as he rushes over to wrap you in a hug. “Don’t worry about him, he gets to share with me until we can move him into your old room. Although, he’ll probably stay there forever because, we all know he’s the clingy one.”

You laugh at the way the blonde lowers his voice like he’s telling you a secret. “I think you’ll find that’s you.” You giggle, squeezing him tightly.

Michael fakes being offended as he pulls away from you so that you can take a look at your new room properly.

“Maybe we can take a trip into town in the next few days, pick out some paint and furniture… We can have this all set up for you within a week or two if we get to work soon.” Calum suggests.

You perch on the end of your bed feeling totally lost for words as you glance around your new spacious room. “That sounds great but I’m gonna need at least a thousand hugs first, you guys are too much.”

One by one each of your friend’s surround you, Calum and Michael on either side of you, Ashton and Luke crouching down in front of you.

“We thought this would help you to have a nice fresh new start.” Luke smiles softly. “Plus you’re closer to my room now so it’ll be way easier for me to sneak in and watch trashy movies with you when these losers are all asleep.”

It’s obvious that there’s a bunch of reasons why your friends have done this, but it’s very clear that the overriding one is love. They love you unconditionally and the feeling is entirely mutual.

Tag list: @clffrd @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @painkillerash @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @h0tsos @loveroflrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes @ghostofmashton @fairyintheglass @cashworthy @cashtonasfuck @opheliaaurora23 @5sosnsfw @wildmichaelflower @myloverboyash @loverofcashton @irwinkitten @cxddlyash @wildmalumflower @cashtonasff5sos @iovehemmings @kindawannacryx @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @celticclifford @5-secondsofcolor

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #ot4 #platonic ot4 #tw: past suicide attempt #tw: suicide #tw: wrist cutting #tw: self harm #5sos blurb #5sos fic #michael clifford #calum hood #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #my writing

83 notes · View notes